Ride and Cut

This winter is surprisingly cold, and it has long been the consensus of everyone.

In previous years, when the water on the ground did not freeze, the first real heavy snow had already begun.

Countless feather-like snowflakes in the sky are drifting downwards, occasionally rolling gently with the wind, as gentle as a lover's touch. But these gentle snowflakes will eventually fall on the ground and become part of the snow. Snow is not gentle, it kills the world and withers all things.

In this blizzard, Seedorf stood at the top of the winter city wall, quietly watching the vast land outside the city covered with snow, covered in silver. The weather-beaten face with white sideburns showed a slightly worried look.

Although his sight was obscured by the wind and snow, he knew that in addition to the large farmland that was temporarily dormant and waiting to re-germinate next year, there was also a heavily assembled Pompeii army preparing to attack the city.

Behind him, more than a dozen generals in power in Stuart stood motionless, letting snowflakes accumulate on his head and shoulders.

"Is there still no news?" Seedorf suddenly said, his voice spreading far from the quiet and cold city wall. At the top of the wall stood a spear soldier guarding every two crevices, but they did not respond at all to it, as quiet as a metal sculpture.

"No news, nothing." Although Seedorf's voice was respectful in response, it contained an anger that couldn't be suppressed. "I really don't know what the adults in the capital were thinking. It was them who declared war at the beginning! Now! They are the ones who pretend to be dead!"

All the Stuart soldiers in Winter City have a heart attack-since their country and Pompeii declared war on each other, everything was normal at first. As the front line of the war, Winter City has received a lot of logistical and reinforcement support. At the peak, nearly 300,000 troops, two dragon knights, and half of the palace wizards gathered, enough to support the largest battle.

At that time, everyone was suffocating in their hearts and vowed to fight for his Majesty to the last minute, so that the Pompeii barbarian knew how powerful the Stuarts were.

But I don't know from which day the situation gradually became wrong.

The reinforcements from other provinces were moved away by one branch, and the transportation of materials that had been enthusiastic to the world soon stopped. Faced with the needs of the front lines of the war, the rear showed perfunctory, even incomprehensible, perfunctory.

When the Pompeii began to assemble their army, set out, and even entered the territory of Stuart. The high morale troops that had been assembled in Winter City were being dismantled and repatriated. The regular army, one legion and one legion, withdrew from the establishment, the palace mages all waved goodbye, and even the two dragon knights sighed and left.

In the end, only the city guards were left, as at the beginning.

Everyone who still has some sense of responsibility denounces this kind of malfeasance, but it is useless.

The regiments that should have been transferred even had soldiers sneaking away, asking to stay in battle, and their chiefs also chose to acquiesce in this. But compared with the scale it should be-it is far from enough.

All this is absurd, and it is clearly facing a battle related to the fortune of the country, but Winter City seems to have been forgotten by the entire empire. Even soldiers know to serve the country, but those big men are like ostriches, thinking that they can avoid danger by burying their heads in the sand.

The Pompeii approached day by day, and the rear was also perfunctory day by day.

After the soldiers came to the city, Seedorf even sent the Griffin Air Knight as a special envoy to the royal capital, but what he got was still perfunctory. That venerable knight flew back overnight, cutting his cheek with a dining knife and vowing to coexist and die with the city, making everyone in the know could not help crying-for the bravery of the knight and the faintness of the bureaucracy.

Perfunctory, perfunctory, perfunctory, always only perfunctory.

Reinforcement and logistics are very tight, only perfunctory has been sufficient.

It's even worse than the volunteer soldiers who came here spontaneously. Professional sergeants used to think they were not professional enough, but now they look at these respectable people with admiration.

Seedorf had to start thinking about an almost unsolvable problem. How can he fight a country with the power of a province? It may not be a smart choice to stick to Winter's City, but right now, it is the only choice.

Because he has only 30,000 city guards and 10,000 civilian volunteers available to him, but Pompeii has a full 200,000.

"Don't be angry, Bernard, anger will only make your mind impulsive." Seedorf's voice remained calm and firm. Fifty years of military career has made him understand that emotions are harmful to generals and should be avoided as much as possible.

"Yes, my lord." As a powerful general, Bernard is by no means an echo bug who can only please his superiors. But at this moment he nodded slightly, not daring to show any dissatisfaction anymore.

"We can only do our own thing, as for the rest, hand it over to the Holy Light." Seedorf turned around and patted Bernard on the shoulder, grinning unexpectedly.

"Follow your teachings." Bernard felt his heart warm, and even the blizzard seemed not so cold anymore.

If Winter City has even a half chance of winning against Pompeii's attack, then the half chance of victory does not lie in the 30,000 elite city guards, or the dozens of experienced high-ranking officers, or even the Lord Master staying in the city. NS.

But in front of him was wearing an old armor, with old age spots all over his face, and even his back began to rickety-Seedorf.

To be fair, he is not a victorious general that bards like to chant, and he is far from being talented. Since joining the army when he was young, as a background board for those so-called geniuses, he has suffered many tragic failures.

Whether his opponent is Pompeii, San Jose, a dependent country of the rebellion, or a wilderness half-orc, he has tasted the taste of defeat. Judging from experience, it is completely unremarkable.

But Seedorf possesses perseverance and perseverance that ordinary people can't imagine!

Repeated defeats have never completely crushed him, no matter how he lamented the unfair fate, no matter how bitterly he was crying in the middle of the night, he can always bear all the pressure in silence, stand up again and again, and wait for the next expedition again.

Once he fails, he will grow up. Correct the mistakes you have made little by little, sum up your opponent's experience and experience a little bit~www.readwn.com~ look at whether you have any shortcomings a little bit. Imprint everything in my mind as deeply as instinct, and I dare not forget it for a while.

Failure is the best school. What it can teach people, no matter how many times it succeeds, it is difficult to give.

This kind of slow and determined progress, after enough time, finally cultivated a monster that can hardly make mistakes. Many so-called geniuses ended up being defeated by Seedorf, like a dazzling meteor piercing the sky but finally falling to the ground. They were completely helpless and borrowed from namelessness.

Perhaps it is really limited by talent, he rarely can command an unconstrained offense. But in terms of defense, looking at the entire continent, it is difficult to find a better general than him.

He is a living legend in Stuart's military circles-"Rock" Seedorf.

"Let's go." What Seedorf wore on his shoulders was still the cloak he got when he graduated from the Military Academy. The bright red color of the year has faded after decades of time, and it looks a little yellow.

"There are only forty thousand people. How to arrange it, you have to make a good calculation." The old man's eyes were as clear as when he was young.