The brutal offensive and defensive battle is over.
As if in response to Menachel's raid on the camp last night, the rebels attacked the city fiercely, charging forward desperately despite the rain of arrows from the city guards. Even though every guard tried their best, they were still almost knocked open by the enemy, and countless people climbed up the city wall.
Menachel gently wiped the blood off his face, and the wounds left by the stray arrows were healing visibly. Although he had not experienced many battles that day, Menachel already felt a little tired.
All those who knew how to use a bow were assigned to shoot arrows, and those like Menachel who could only cut people were responsible for killing the enemies who rushed up the wall. However, the fighting spirit of the knights who rushed up the wall was far beyond Menachel's imagination. Even when their bodies were pierced by swords, they still held on to Menachel tightly, trying to throw Menachel off the wall.
"There are still too few people."
Beside Menachel, the defender of Bilu City did not hide his disappointment at all. The middle-aged man who had assisted two generations of kings had a little gray hair. The old man, who was over fifty years old, was leaning on the pillar with difficulty. His job was the same as Menachel's, which was to block the enemy from the upper city.
"Sir Ector, you should take a rest first." Menachel was not uncomfortable with this man's outspokenness. He rarely showed some patience when facing this middle-aged man. Not only because the knight in front of him was one of the few old ministers who had not compromised with the nobles, but also because of the other party's identity.
Merlin mentioned Sir Ector before he set out. He was Kay's father and Artoria's adoptive father. He was a little afraid that the old man would die suddenly from overwork, and then he would have a hard time explaining it to Artoria.
After entering the city, Menachel did not ask about Lanmaroc's whereabouts. From Sir Ector's few words, he had learned that Lanmaroc had not entered the city. Presumably, Lanmaroc had encountered the same problem as them. He just don't know whether Lanmaroc has found a solution or has been solved by the problem.
"That being said, as you can see, even if the city of Bilu is strong, the difference in military strength is too great."
The troops of the four northern kings were combined to attack the newly born Camelot, but there was no way they could have the advantage in numbers.
Even though Menachel's raid on the camp was very successful, the rebels were not really seriously injured. They might even launch a more fierce siege to save face.
"I don't know if the king will send reinforcements." Sir Ector sighed softly, and the worry on his face became even more intense. "Otherwise, the city will fall sooner or later."
There is no other city in the Beidelin Plain except the city of Bilu, which is backed by the highlands. Therefore, once the city of Bilu is lost, the northern rebels will be able to advance into the heart of Camelot unimpeded.
Menachel did not give a direct answer to Sir Ector's question. In fact, he already knew the answer. It was very likely that Artoria would not send any more reinforcements – not because she was unwilling, but because she could not.
As if it was agreed upon, at the same time as the four kings of the North launched a rebellion, forces outside Britain were also ready to move, forcing Artoria to deploy the troops originally intended for support to the South.
Even with Gawain's thousand men stationed there, the total number of guards in the city of Bilu was only over two thousand, some of whom were temporarily recruited by Ector from the civilian population.
"Fortunately, the food reserves in the city are enough to sustain for a while." Sir Ector looked at the enemies who had temporarily retreated from the city and the corpses left on the ground under the city. He supported himself and stood up, and ordered people to clean up the battlefield later.
After rounds of attack and defense, the city's already abundant food became even more abundant, even if there were suddenly a thousand more mouths to feed.
After all, every battle saves many mouths to be fed.
Under the scorching sun, the smell of blood on the city wall became stronger and stronger. Tiny flying insects were attracted by the smell and flew around. Sir Ector moved a few steps closer to Menachel to save the effort of driving away the flying insects.
The nauseating smell of blood reminded Menachel of something. He glanced at Agravain, who was also panting from exhaustion, and asked Sir Ector,
"Is there an independent water source in the city?"
"The previous king had a branch of the Tonan River stored in the city. Whenever it rained, the gate would be opened to release water, so the stagnant water outside was actually created by us." Before Menachel could tell Agravain's plan, Sir Ector had already seen through it. He shook his head and sighed, "We have tried to throw corpses into the water before, but it was impossible to succeed. Even when they were attacking the city, they would send a group of knights to guard the water source."
The result of their original attempt was that none of the teams sent to abandon the corpses came back. The advantage of numbers was fully demonstrated at this moment.
"A… group of knights?"
On the narrow and crowded city wall, the strength he could exert was no different from Gawain's, but in a space wide enough to let loose, he, Menachel, was a knight group by himself.
Menachel took a deep breath, and the armor on his body creaked as his body rose and fell. The flying insects attracted by the smell of blood were frightened and moved further away from him. Ector looked at Menachel with a sense of something. The young man who had taken off his helmet because of the weather showed a smile of confidence.
The pupils that were stretched and enlarged like vertical pupils suddenly turned to Ector, and Menachel said, "That's enough. I can go alone."
The full group of those garrisoned knights was no more than 300 men, and Menachel took them all in the utter disregard. He will kill them all. He only needed to discard some corpse parts, and the entire water source would be contaminated and become undrinkable.
"Are you going alone?" Ector looked at Menachel in doubt.
"I'm enough on my own."
Ector's face turned serious, and in an instant he understood the whole story – this young knight must have wanted to break through the siege alone and drown his body in the water source guarded by hundreds of knights in a suicide attack.
"I understand." Ector's face was heavy with grief. He stood up straight and saluted Menachel with the highest etiquette of a knight, second only to meeting a king. "It is a blessing from God that Camelot has a knight like you."
Death is not scary, but knowing that you will die and insisting on dying for the sake of justice is the most basic fear of human beings. Anyone who overcomes this basic fear should be respected no matter who he is.
Looking at Sir Ector, who was obviously imagining some strange plot, Menachel awkwardly shifted his gaze away, then met Agravain's burning gaze.
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