There was chaos in front of him, no wonderful dreams, only darkness, I don't know how long he had spent in it, and when Walcreek woke up again, it was almost late sunset, and there was chaos in front of him, and he found himself leaning against a large rock.

There was a road in front of him, and the road was full of busy citizens and soldiers, and the soldier who saved himself was nowhere to be found, probably leaving himself here.

Holding his still heavy head, Walker laboriously removed his helmet, and then looked at the helmet, which already had a conspicuous dent.

Walkrick gritted his teeth, got up with great effort, and walked a few steps to find a canal, where Walkerrick found a bucket, filled half a bucket of water, and drank two sips at first.

At this time, through the dim light, he saw his own reflection in the water.

His face was covered in blood, and there was a large bruise on his forehead, right where the depression of his helmet was.

"What a ruthless bastard, you're going to kill me then!" Walcreek sighed, and took out water from the bucket to wash his face and bloodstained helmet.

Walking on the road, taking advantage of the darkness of the night, miraculously, Attila's army actually stopped the attack, so this was a crucial moment, and the Romans naturally could not relax.

Soldiers and citizens came and went in the streets, carrying stones and logs, and at the bridges and on the banks of the river, the soldiers built a wall more than 1.5 meters high as a defensive line.

Walkerrick slowly came to the bridgehead, where the soldiers stationed there, armed with torches, hurriedly saluted when they saw Walker coming.

"How about now? I mean the defense now. Walklick didn't know to talk to the strange soldiers, so he asked a question in a rambling way, and then stood on the bridgehead line.

On the opposite side, a large number of barbarians were standing on the opposite side of the bridge, for for which they had already made several attacks, and the corpses covered with the bridge could be seen.

"How many times have the barbarians attacked?"

The sight of the corpse in one place made Walker's face gloomy, and for a moment the dullness on his face disappeared, replaced by solemnity.

"We need to add more stones to strengthen the foundations here." Walcreek pointed down to the soldiers.

"But we don't know you, my lord." One soldier said with a wary face: "We don't know your true identity yet. ”

"Yes, maybe a savage spy, isn't it?" The soldiers said, raising their spears and aiming them at Walkerk.

"Yes, you really don't know me."

Approaching the fire, Walcreek took off his helmet, revealing the bruise on his forehead, and said to the soldiers: "I am but a Roman who has suffered on the walls, but I will fight with you at dawn to-morrow, and report the damage inflicted on me by the barbarians at noon this day." ”

Inside the main church, Bishop Ananus kneels in front of a cross carved with God, on which is carved a statue of the crucifixion of Jesus.

Ananus knelt in the audience, dressed in plain robes, and he looked more like a devout believer than ever.

"God, I beg you to have mercy on your devout believers, that we may be redeemed, redeemed, yes, send down the army that represents you, bless Orleans, well, bless Rome!"

Even though Bishop Anaeus prayed over and over again, Jesus hung his head slightly to the side and died as if he were asleep.

Did he hear Ananus's prayer? No one knew that he was the only one in the whole church, and his heart was as dark as a sunset.

At dawn the next day, a sharp trumpet sounded all around.

"Come and see, come and see!"

The roar of the soldiers woke Walker, who was sleeping alone in a corner of the street.

At this moment, the sky has just dawned, the sun has not revealed much, and everything under the moment can be regarded as hazy

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he saw a large group of soldiers running towards the "wall" with spears and iron swords.

Walkrick first sensed a hint of danger, and he hurriedly got up and followed the large army to the line of defense at the bridgehead.

It was now crowded with soldiers, wearing rusty helmets and spears, crowded together in confusion, archers also standing on the walls and rooftops, and more soldiers armed with pikes, ready to meet the barbarians who would attack at any moment.

But the barbarians were not as impulsive as yesterday, thinking that they could crush the Romans in Orleans with their sheer numbers and the fears they bringed, but they failed.

The Romans at this time saw only the barbarians on the other side of the river pushing trebuchets into the streets.

At the head of the bridge, a large number of captives knelt there, and behind them were barbarians with bright iron swords.

Attila was standing on the other side of the river, surrounded by the chiefs of the tribes, in a tall and splendid chariot, he was not tall, he was wearing black armor, a black iron helmet inlaid with gold, and on the helmet protruded a long black horse that hung down to his chest.

Seeing him like this, it wasn't just Walkerk, but also the soldiers beside him and behind him. Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief as they looked at the Huns who had brought them infinite fear in front of them.

Attila raised his right hand slightly, and when his soldiers saw his hand, they immediately grasped the hilt of the iron sword with both hands and raised it above their heads.

"They're going to kill prisoners of war?"

One of the soldiers exclaimed, his surprise causing panic among those around him, after all, the brutal methods used to treat prisoners of war, whether they were Romans or barbarians, they were good at and loved to do this.

Attila raised his hand slashed down again, and at the same time, his soldiers swung their iron swords at the same time, sending the prisoners of war who were bound and unable to move.

At that moment, all those who witnessed it trembled involuntarily.

The blood of the previous night clotted on the ground, but it soon became a new red blood.

A man's head rolled down and was kicked into the clear water by the other barbarians with a sneer, and the headless bodies gushing blood fell to the ground like unsupported marionettes, and the corpses continued to tremble.

"Oh my God, oh my God!"

The soldiers exclaimed, pointing to what they had witnessed.

"Don't be deceived by them, that's the fear they spread." Walcreek roared loudly, snatching the shield of the soldier beside him, drawing his iron sword, and striking it continuously, trying to get the attention of everyone present.

"Don't be intimidated by their swords, if you are afraid, you will be killed by them by the same means, so take up arms and resist! Resist! ”

The townspeople, as well as the soldiers, were silent, looking at the man in front of them who was constantly shouting, they didn't know what to do, they just looked at Walkrick silently.

"We will be redeemed eventually, but God needs to see our courage when we are redeemed!" Walcreek said, grinding the iron sword in his hand, "They are coming, with God's question, and the answer is under our sword, so let's answer the question!" ”