Chief Rostock led his army along the muddy path to Mecklenburg Castle, the villages along the way were only ruins and broken walls, not even a single chicken feather remained, and even the wells were filled with earth and rocks that could not be used, but fortunately it rained in the sky, and the soldiers used their skins to catch the rain to quench their thirst, but the wet clothes were very uncomfortable against the body, and there was no shelter from the village farmhouses, and many soldiers became ill.

"It's damn weather." The Slavic soldiers cursed and rubbed their arms together, and they sat around a large tree by the side of the path, their wet firewood not enough to make a bonfire, so they had to keep warm with their body heat.

"The cursed Germans have burned down the villages along the way, and they really want to pierce their filthy bellies with their own hands, and tear out their hearts and livers to see what color they are." Another Slavic warrior took out a piece of hard, dry venison and chewed it, and they had been eating this food that had not been licked for several days.

"Come on, seeing so many of us, those Germans must be so frightened that they will hide in the castle and and urine."

"That's right, what's that?" Just as the Slavic soldiers were hiding from the rain and chatting with each other, suddenly a Slavic soldier saw that someone was rushing over on a horse in the rain, and he stood up and spoke.

"What's wrong?" The others also stood up and looked in the direction their companions were looking, only to hear a few whooshing sounds from the rain.

"Ahh Several javelins were fired, and the Slavic soldiers screamed and fell backwards under the inertia of the javelins.

"Enemy, enemy. Yes. A Slavic warrior picked up an axe, but before he could raise it, he was nailed to death by a javelin.

The clamor resounded throughout the camp of the Rostockians, the sound of horses' hooves and the clashing of weapons, the occasional screams of dying men, corpses rolling into the muddy water, and the Slavs, though numerous, panicked in the chaos by a surprise attack in the rain.

"What's going on?" The chief of Rostock unveiled his tent and stepped out to see his soldiers running around like a flock of sheep under attack.

"Chieftain, be careful." The elite guards of the Chieftain of Rostock, with large shields forming a shield wall in front of the chieftain. A javelin flew through the rain curtain and stuck to the shield.

"Huh." Chief Rostock saw that he was a hundred paces away from him. One rider tightened the reins of his horse and stood in the rain, letting it fall on him, holding a few javelins in his left hand. The war horse shook his head under his crotch. Shake the raindrops off your mane.

"Damn the Germans." Drops of water flowed down Rostock's face. His face was hideous, even though he was old, but the boiling of blood seemed to bring him back to the era of fighting. He pushed away the large shield warriors who stood in his way to protect him, drew a sharp sword from the waist of one of them, and he opened his arms and cursed as he charged at the cavalry.

"Go and protect him." Xavier swung his sword to block a javelin, these javelinmen condescendingly threw javelins from their horses, the speed was so fast and accurate that they could shoot at the target even in the rain and galloping, ordinary soldiers could not resist the javelins that came from them, they didn't know that these javelinmen often competed in the arena in addition to their daily training, and only the best horse shooters could continue to stay in the javelin cavalry team, and those who eliminated would be relegated to ordinary soldiers.

"Yes." Two spearmen with large shields immediately followed the Rostock chieftain to the left and right, and from time to time the wooden shields made aggressive sounds, which were the muffled sound of javelins fired from horses hitting the shields.

"Die in the name of the gods of Lomwa." The chief of Rostock swung his sword and tried to stab one of the javelinmen, but the javelinmen nimbly maneuvered his horse under his crotch to avoid his attack, and at that moment the chirping sound of a swan came from nowhere, which was the sound of the brass whistles equipped with the javelinmen, and the javelinmen were no longer entangled with the Rostock, and they left the camp and disappeared into the rain as if they had come.

"How many people did we lose?" Xavier wiped the rain from his face with his sleeve with his sword in his hand, and he asked the tribal leaders who had arrived from all sides.

"I'll check it out." The leaders immediately counted their numbers, and it was not easy to recount the numbers in the heavy rain, the cohesion of the medieval army that lacked grassroots officers relied on the local people, and the soldiers who were brought out by the leaders were young people from the villages who knew their roots, and even if they were hit hard, they would only reunite around their leaders, not to mention that in this unfamiliar county, many villagers had never left their villages in their lives.

"Coward." Chief Rostock stuck his sword in the ground and spat in the direction the javelinmen had left, cursing disdainfully, disdainful of the rats who did not dare to fight him face to face.

"Chief, we have lost thirteen soldiers, and five or six are missing." Xavier walked up to Chief Rostock and reported to him.

"The losses are not significant, and it would be a big mistake to think that an attack of this magnitude alone would scare us." The chief of Rostock turned around, not even in the mood to draw his sword from the ground, and he walked towards his tent, and though he had the most courageous ambition and passion, the years were not forgiving, and he felt a little tired, and the leather armor on his body seemed to be a little heavier than before.

"But we're going to have to send sentries to camp next time, damn it, careless." Xavier shook his head, seeing the burned villages and the villagers who were missing along the way, the Rostock people took it for granted that Arold had shrunk all his forces into the castle, and the Germans would definitely not dare to go out of the city in the case of the disparity in strength, who would have thought that these daring Germans would send light cavalry to attack in the pouring rain.

But the Rostockians were completely unaware of the cunning of the enemy they were facing, and whenever night fell, javelinmen attacked the sentries and harassed the camp, and the cavalrymen who rode their horses and shot their javelins at the same time, whenever they saw that the Rostockians were prepared, rode their horses and fled away, and if the Rostockians slackened a little and attacked, the Rostock marches were extremely painful, and the soldiers were exhausted by the continuous harassment, As long as the brass whistle of the javelinmen rings in your ears, you will be nervous and unable to rest.

"Prepare the horses, I'm going to kill those bastards myself." Finally enraged, the chief of Rostock glared at the panda eyes, drew his saber, and asked his retinue to lead his horses, and dozens of noble cavalry gathered around him, these noble cavalry were all tribal leaders and other people who could afford war horses and heavy armor, and they were also fed up with being fooled by those javelin cavalry.

"In the name of the Lomwa gods, charge ~~~." Most of the noble cavalry, led by the chief of Rostock himself, lined up to aim at the javelinmen who were galloping from the plains beside the road, most of them with a spear in their hands, a round shield hanging from one side of their horses, a sharp short-handled axe pinned to their waists, and helmets made of leather and iron on their heads, and when they charged, they pointed their spears at the enemy like the Catholic knights, but they lacked a little of the courage of the knights.

"Toot ~~~." The javelinmen saw the noble cavalry charging at them, and immediately a brass whistle sounded among them, and the javelinmen beautifully manipulated their hips with their legs to the war horses under their hips, and fled with their backs to the direction of the noble cavalry's charge, but they controlled the distance from the noble cavalry, and if they kept a certain distance, and this distance was so that they could turn around and throw their javelins at the noble cavalry.

"Ah~~~." A noble cavalryman in the middle of the charge was hit by a javelin and fell off his horse, one of his feet hung on the stirrup, and the horse dragged his master unknowingly.

"Damn." The chief of Rostock turned his head to look at his companions who had been knocked off his horse, he gritted his teeth and looked back at the javelinmen galloping in front of him, those javelinmen were only equipped with light leather armor and pointed helmets, and weighed much less than the noble cavalry, so the heavily armed noble cavalry could not catch up in any case, and after a while the horses under the crotch of the noble cavalry were sweating profusely, so they had to stop and trot forward slowly, but at this time the javelinmen seemed to notice their pause, and immediately galloped over, projecting at them.

"Damn, when the javelins in your hands are finished, what do I see you do?" The chief of Rostock gasped as he pulled his leather-inlaid iron collar down the splendor of the javelin, and these shameless javelinmen had turned their noble leaders and leaders around.

"Whoosh, whoosh~~~." When the chief of Rostock and the others had to stop, stand still and cover their bodies with shields, waiting for rescue, arrows flew over their heads from behind them to the javelinmen, and it turned out that Xavier was leading a group of Slavic archers to support.

"Well done Xavier, shoot these damn bastards well with a bow and arrow." The Rostock chieftain shouted with joy when he saw the arrows hit several javelinmen and dismount them, but the javelinmen who had been hit by the arrows stood up and shook their heads and climbed back onto their horses, which puzzled the Rostockers.

"Thankfully, the leather armor has pliable parchment armor, but a few more arrows will definitely not work, and the brethren will project their javelins at the damned Rostock in a circle." The captain of the javelin-cavalry, who was shot down, led his men to run in a circle, shooting the javelins in their hands as they ran, and the arrows of the Rostock could not reach them at all in the rapid run.

"How the hell did these Germans train these cavalry?" Stunned as he watched the cavalrymen running in circles and throwing javelins, Chief Rostock took a breath and felt as if he were facing an unfathomable abyss. (To be continued......)