The twilight shrouded the wind-howling dense forest, and although the winter was far from the coldest season, the wind and snow blowing from between the mountains still made people shiver, and no matter how much firewood was filled into the campfire, no matter how much warmth was felt in the campfire.

Under a hillside in the sparse woods, Gragu, who rode a short-legged Hantu war horse, led an army of barbarian warriors behind him, marching slowly among the mountains that had just snowed, and a few wounds could be seen on his cheeks that were blown by the cold wind.

But the fear of winter is not only like this - you can think of a way to lack firewood, but you can't get it without food, there are few prey in winter, and the colder and colder weather also makes more wild beasts and mountain birds hide for the winter, and it is already very difficult to find the prey.

Gracchus, who had nothing to do, had no choice but to continue the march with the barbarian warriors under his command, biting tightly at the back of Edward's army all the way, like a lone wolf in the ice field, as long as he saw the other party slackening, he would pounce on it and bite down!

From the wasteland to the hills, Gracchus was in hot pursuit, and the battle was fought day and night, and the fierce barbarian warriors attacked again and again to completely slow down the pace of the Edward Legion, but as long as they showed the slightest gesture of being ready to form a formation to meet the enemy, these cunning barbarian warriors would immediately retreat, never giving the Battle Banner Legion a chance to go head-to-head.

But while they had succeeded in holding back the Turinees, Gracchus' warriors had reached their limit - several raids, though they were all immediately retreating, still caused considerable casualties. The cold was invading them, the warriors of the land. And what really gave Gragu a headache was. The forces under his command were simply too scarce.

Except for more than a hundred cronies around him, as well as a tribal leader and his subordinates who volunteered to join, most of the soldiers were just free folk warriors from small nearby tribes, with nothing but shields, axes, and spears, and many even went into battle shirtless. The real elite, the Great Chief of the Red Horse didn't give him any at all.

If the army was to be crushed at the touch of a button, Gracchus would have been confident that they would have been wiped out in the snowy field - but on the day of the Battle of the Fortress, the charge of the Knights of the Sacred Tree had cast a huge shadow on Gracchus. Without twice as many tribal warriors, there was no way to stop the frontal charge of these hoplites.

Although Gracchus had a small cavalry at his disposal, this was the only mobile force he had, and if necessary, he had to confront the enemy's Turinese light cavalry, rather than to die senselessly.

It wasn't that that really bothered him—it was only the next day that the Turines did not stop marching, as if they were not afraid of death at all, and had no intention of stopping at all.

And those recruits who used to look like dirt at the sight of them also seem to be slowly experiencing the baptism of the battlefield - when they see an enemy rushing towards them, they will immediately pick up their shields and form a shield wall with the people nearby. Fight back with javelins and spears.

The Banner Legion, once defeated in a hundred battles and on the verge of collapse in the field, seems to be slowly becoming stronger under the command of Edward Witwood. This was what terrified Gracchus, who knew very well that the Turin were no match for the Turines, and that victory depended on the bravery of the warriors, and now that advantage was slowly being eroded......

As for the Lund pirates, Gracchus didn't pay much attention - even on the West Coast, there were these bloodthirsty creatures, and it was not uncommon for the Turineites to be mercenaries, and he had fought for a Dominic nobleman.

Looking at the team behind him, which had shrunk a lot, Gracchus couldn't help but sigh - what he could do now was at its limit, even if he stayed here any longer, it would be impossible to prevent the main force of the Turin legion from converging with the outpost army of the Tallinn settlement, rather than continuing the stalemate, it was better to rush back to Tallinn as soon as possible, join forces with the nearby tribes who came to support, and take the settlement back before the enemy.

But if he blows it directly, he is afraid that it will be regarded as a self-assertion, in order to avoid angering the big chief of the red horse, Gragu specially sent his cronies back, and explained the reason to the big chief as soon as possible, and he must let him know that these Turin people today are no longer the same as before.

"How long do we have to wait here?" said Gracchus to himself with a bit of grumbling, but the barbarian warriors behind him were silent - not only were many of their brothers killed in the battle, but many were seriously wounded and left behind. Being alone in the wilderness on such a cold winter, everyone knows what that would be.

"Someone is coming in front!" several barbarian cavalry hurriedly ran back and shouted loudly, the cold-faced Gragu immediately beckoned behind him, and the barbarian warriors under his command stopped, each ambushing and guarding in the surrounding forest, Gragus's personal guards drew their sharp blades and gathered around him.

It didn't take long for hordes of barbarian warriors to emerge from the forest, holding a tribal totem of the Red Horse Clan, and at the front was the cronie sent out by Gracchus, but his face didn't seem quite right.

Seeing that it was the "reinforcements" of their own people, the barbarian warriors who were still nervous just now relaxed, but Gragu was still frowning - as long as you could see at a glance, these guys who came to reinforce were definitely much more elite than the warriors under their command, almost everyone was wearing thick leather or chain mail, carrying a throwing spear and a long-handled axe in their hands, and a dozen of them in the front, and even riding the war horses of the Turinees, with long swords hanging from the saddles.

"Lord Gracchus!" Seeing Gracchus with an unkind face, the cronie hurriedly ran over and pointed to the back: "This is ......"

"I don't think I need to be introduced, I'm all descendants of the Red Horse Clan. A barbarian warrior dressed in bearskin, wearing Turin chain mail, and dressed as a leader, stood very arrogantly in front of Gracchus, looking up at him: "Cousin Gracchus!"

"Of course, brave Abbiu. Looking at this arrogant brother, Gragus didn't have much anger on his face, but lowered his head - because the other party was the younger brother of the Great Chief of the Red Horse, and he was just a sideline: "Why did the Great Chief send you?"

"Because dear cousin, you have disappointed my brother too much!" Abiu beckoned behind him, and the barbarian warriors he brought with him had already pushed and shoved all the guards around Gracchus, and these proud warriors were about to fight back, but Gracchus stopped them.

"Even if you know some rules!" Abiu snorted coldly: "It's in vain that my brother trusts you so much, a wandering clansman, and actually lets those Turin dogs continue to move forward, do you know how much of a threat these guys will be to the clan if they join up with the enemies of the Tallinn settlement?!"

"Haven't the Tallinn settlements been taken yet?" Gracgu replied lightly, but Abiu's cheeks immediately flushed - after three consecutive days of bloody battles, he still couldn't gnaw that hard bone - speaking of which, it was also the fault of the Great Chief, in order to gather enough troops, he ended up abandoning all the surrounding settlements, and let the damn Turin dogs take the loop!

"And I'm here to correct your mistakes - the enemies must not converge, and they must be strangled here!"

"With all due respect, Abieu, but I've tried. Gracchus retorted, "These Turines are no longer the Turines they used to be, and it will not be easy to take them down - it is better to turn around and attack the fortress of the Green Valley now, and there may be a slight chance of turning around!"

"That's enough, you're still not a descendant of the red horse—a coward!" the roaring Abbiu, spit on Gracchus's face, swung the blade in his hand fiercely: "Attack tonight, this is my order!" (To be continued.) )