Bear School Astartes-Chapter 607 - 610. Massacre

There’s not much to say about the process of the battle.

Or rather, it couldn’t even be considered a battle at all.

Even when the refugees burst out of the defensive line and briefly disrupted the Niflgaard infantry approaching, it didn’t really help.

In feudal times, armies were no better than bandits murdering and looting at one’s doorstep to the common folk.

"Don’t kill me, don’t kill us, we..."

"Pfft!"

The Niflgaard people slashed down every refugee who ran towards them in panic.

Even though they were unarmed, with their wives and children in tow.

The men beneath the black armor had declared upon entering Sintra: Niflgaard would save Sintra and bring civilization to this land.

But now, with blades slicing throats, and sword tips stabbing ribs... the Niflgaard people were smiling as they killed!

In this era, the role of soldiers is simple—a killing machine.

The Empire trained them this way. So for these Niflgaard people, they just felt their ’subjects of work’ were easy and weak.

Which made the job all the more satisfying.

As for the wailing and heart-wrenching pleas... these were long-tired cries.

Besides... are the Northern People even considered human? Who would waste compassion on a group of uncivilized barbarians?

Just like how no one would pity the roast chicken laid out on the table.

Darkley thought that controlling the fire was more important than this group of refugees, so he went to command the troops.

Meanwhile, the infantry battalion ordered to massacre was self-commanded by the humiliated Duke Adal.

Although this duke was narrow-minded and arrogant, he nonetheless originated from Niflgaard’s great noble family and had successfully inherited a hereditary title.

Commanding an overwhelmingly powerful force to crush a group of refugees was completely unsurprising.

"Fight! Fight!"

Passionate battle cries erupted continuously from Stuart’s mouth.

"For Sintra! For Calanthe!"

The remaining dozens of wounded soldiers stood against the Niflgaard infantry, led by Stuart and Hacksaw.

They swung their weapons fiercely, striking the black-glazed armor with ’clang’ sounds.

But their injuries hampered their physical capabilities, and long-running left them fatigued. Now, the enemy had a comprehensive advantage in both numbers and strength.

Thus, Stuart and Hacksaw could only watch helplessly.

Watching their fellow warriors scattered and separated by the strong, well-nourished Niflgaard people.

Then several Niflgaard people pinned the warriors to the ground.

They laughed, watching the Sintra warriors struggling on the ground, clawing at the dirt and rocks helplessly.

Then a Niflgaard soldier leisurely used a longsword to target the gaps in the armor, then thrust down.

The "pfft" sound of the blade entering flesh, followed by the splatter of blood.

The warriors’ limbs stretched tight, struggled, twitched, only to powerlessly slacken, unable to change anything in the end.

...like slaughtering a herd of pigs or sheep about to be served on the table.

Not intense, and devoid of dignity.

Meanwhile, behind Hacksaw’s soldiers, the refugees huddled like quails, crying, shoving... merely watching.

Dozens of Sintra soldiers were pinned and slaughtered like livestock, swiftly.

And as per the Duke’s instructions, no one yet did the same to Stuart and Hacksaw.

Yes, Hacksaw was also fighting, even though he had never fought in his entire life, he was waving that steel staff, fighting!

The Niflgaard soldier fighting him didn’t even draw his sword, using a boxing stance instead.

He grabbed the slow-moving and obvious staff trying to snatch it, but suddenly withdrawing his hand found it unmoved.

Then he reacted and smashed a punch at the side of Hacksaw’s helmet.

"Bang," and inside the helmet, Hacksaw’s eyes went blank.

But even so, he kept muttering something.

"Merciful Meretelli... forgive them... warm their souls..."

After taking the punch on the head, Hacksaw’s hand finally released the grip.

Then the Niflgaard infantry soldier forcibly took the staff from him and turned to hand it to Duke Adal.

"I will show you what insult awaits a noble person,"

Duke Adal said, tipping Hacksaw’s helmet visor open with his toe, staring into his eyes.

Hacksaw, finally recovering from dizziness, laughed, unlike his previous smiling demeanor, now he was euphoric.

"Oh, then you must show me, haha!"

Hacksaw’s laughter made Adal’s eyelid twitch, "Break his legs!"

The order given, the soldiers beside immediately followed. A claw hammer retrieved from the waist, pounded on Hacksaw’s greave, the leg and the armor crushed into a twisted mess.

Blood trickled from the armor’s gaps, ’drip drip’ outside.

Hacksaw began to scream, but even as he screamed in pain, he was laughing.

The laughter made Adal even more furious!

For this, he even forgot his most valued goal, and his noble demeanor.

He crouched, clutching the edge of Hacksaw’s helmet, pulling his head off the ground.

"You’re still laughing, are you? Let me guess, you seem like a noble, is your family already dead? Or did you send them to safety? Redania? Temeria? So you can bring these maggots to death in peace!"

"Hear the screams? Hear the cries? This is all because of you! It’s your responsibility!"

Hacksaw grinning with his bloody mouth, "Of course, this is certainly my responsibility. So, my family is neither dead nor gone, they are here! Always have been here! With me!"

"Oh? That’s brilliant." Duke Adal spoke in a low, sinister voice, "You hid him among the refugees, hoping to give your poor family a quick death?"

"I didn’t hide, I’m right here!"

On the other side, Stuart shouted, his head pressed into the mud by a Niflgaard soldier’s hand.

His helmet long removed, his face pinned sideways into the dirt, immovable.

But despite this, he loudly declared his identity.

"I’m Stuart Lynne! Knight personally appointed by Queen Calanthe! Son of Hacksaw Lyn!"

"Well, a hero!" Adal shouted angrily, interpreting the enemy’s bravery before him as contempt and humiliation, "A family of heroes!"