All the mixed units of the Britons bear the mark of ’returning in great defeat’.
"It’s really a case of poking a hornet’s nest!"
With such low morale in the army, the Duke of Tintagel must bear more than half the responsibility.
Duncan no longer conserved his energy.
He took up his Northern battle bow, commanding the Welsh archers behind him to concentrate fire on the marked positions of enemy officers.
First kill, second kill, third kill!
The energy bar dwindled segment by segment, then slowly recovered; Duncan hadn’t used his full strength before, as the slave army wasn’t worth his full effort.
Arrows tore through the air!
The Welsh archers followed Duncan’s lead, unleashing a volley that directly took down the centurion of the Saxon spear and shield troops.
——Saxon spear and shield troops (Morale collapsed) (Officer killed) (Encountered a strong enemy).
This wave of focused strikes.
More than thirty of the enemy were shot and killed or wounded in quick succession; a hundred-man squad immediately scattered, allowing the other units on the wall a little time to breathe.
But soon another wave of arrows rained down.
A Welsh archer next to Duncan was shot in the head on the spot, an arrow piercing his eye socket while another struck his neck, causing those nearby to hurriedly raise their shields in fear.
——Saxon Forest Hunter.
——Saxon Elite Forest Hunter (one star).
Under the cover of shield warriors, Saxon archers joined the fray; the barbarian forest hunters excelled ordinary archers in skill, numbering many, and their suppressive volley toppled dozens. Without the wall’s cover, they might have shattered the militia’s front line outright.
"At least it should be an epic victory in total war, right?"
A few dozen meters away.
An arrow struck the helmet of the Duke of Tintagel, sending cold sweat down his back as he hurriedly grabbed his shield, retreating to the protection of his personal guard and attendants.
A gap appeared in the southwestern defense of the wall.
Duncan rushed forward with lightning speed, casually picking up a spear, channeling all his strength, like a legendary figure of ancient Greece. In a swift dash, the spear whistled through the air, directly piercing the chest of an elite barbarian warrior, sending his corpse tumbling from the wall.
A stir spread around!
The enemy’s first fully armored elite unit was killed, the leading barbarian warrior taken down by Duncan’s single spear.
He stood atop the wall, daring to lead the charge?
Duncan picked up a shield from the corpse and swung it forcefully, delivering a heavy blow to the enemy’s head. His arm tingled slightly, as the formidable barbarian warrior before him was directly knocked over, then swarmed from both sides and hacked to death in a flurry.
——Combat Form; Beheading!
The Oathkeeper slashed coldly, and the Saxon axeman surging back onto the wall stood stiff, leaving only a headless corpse, blood scattering like a fountain.
Duncan howled to the sky, his voice booming like thunder!
This extremely bloody scene shook the enemy and also rallied the nearby wavering allies.
A cheer resounded on the wall like landslides and tsunamis.
The invincible warrior!
Duncan, by his own effort, once again inspired morale!
Even the Duke of Tintagel, who had retreated under the guard of his personal guards, couldn’t help but peek out, rallying forth, drawing his sword, and raising his shield to lead his troops to drive the enemy off the wall once more.
"Close combat inspires morale more easily than ranged killings."
Duncan personally charged and slew over a dozen foes in succession, finally stabilizing the southwest defense line and erasing the signs of wavering courage.
From a God’s-eye view.
The projection seemed to undergo some change.
——"Inspiration (Special Ability): Your bravery greatly inspires the morale of others, and when you appear on the battlefield, allied units gain the courage to continue fighting because of you."
Duncan’s own mark changed, bearing two special states: ’Intimidation’ and ’Inspiration’.
He killed his way to this point.
His very presence seemed to carry some peculiar supernatural traits, almost visibly so, as nearby soldiers became spirited.
"No wonder ancient brave generals dared to charge several times their numbers with just tens or hundreds of soldiers!"
Wherever Duncan’s figure went, morale soared!
He almost single-handedly saved the nearly collapsing defense line.
But the enemy’s offensive did not cease.
Under cover from the Saxon forest hunters, squads of elite soldiers quickly approached the battlefield.
This was a brutal slaughter of flesh and blood.
Not far away, Saxon King Hengist stared intently in Duncan’s direction, looking tremendously shaken, asking those beside him, "Who’s that man?"
"When did the Duke of Tintagel have such a valiant knight under his command?"
He was waiting for the enemy to become exhausted for a full assault, but Duncan’s appearance had forcibly resisted three Saxon barbarian offensives, holding the battlefield in a deadlock.
Even those militia whose morale was near breaking fought desperately due to his personal valor!
If Britain had such a hero earlier.
They perhaps wouldn’t have been able to establish the Kingdom of Kent here.
"They are already exhausted!"
Hosa galloped up to his brother, pointing to the northwest side of the wall, "Over there, it’s all rabble made of militiamen and peasants; just concentrate the elite, and we can take it in one strike."
Although Duncan’s might was astonishing, the two brothers showed no trace of panic.
This far into the battle.
The elite units of the Saxon barbarians hadn’t yet all entered the battlefield; their siege tactics were accustomed to unleashing their elite troops for a strong assault only when the enemy became exhausted.