Time Travel? Rebirth? I Win This Time!

The negotiations had collapsed, and with no further compromise in sight, the only remaining option was to meet on the battlefield.

Inside the castle, heavily armored soldiers stood vigilantly atop the walls, while crossbowmen checked their weapons in the towers. A massive number of workers crouched beneath the battlements, preparing defensive armaments.

Mike Bai looked out at the approaching Saracen army and knew this time they were serious. Twelve siege towers draped in animal hides and eight battering rams were wheeled into position. Alongside them came countless shields, ballistae, and ladders.

The enemy, advancing like a tidal wave, seemed to blot out the sky, casting a shadow over the defenders' hearts. Mike Bai took a deep breath, estimating the range of the approaching siege weapons, before signaling to Sir Hamo below.

"Launch the stones!"

The four trebuchets inside the castle rumbled to life, hurling massive stones toward the siege towers. But the accuracy was a problem, and Mike Bai couldn't help but feel impatient.

Finally, one of the siege towers was struck, shattering on impact and sending a cloud of debris down onto the foot soldiers below, who were crushed or wounded in the chaos. But despite the destruction, the rest of the siege engines continued their relentless advance.

As the distance closed, both sides' archers began to fire. Saracen archers, shielded behind the infantry's wall or large shields, launched arrows toward the castle's battlements. With the lack of wooden cover along the outer walls, the castle's own archers had no choice but to fire from the towers, taking shots downward.

Arrows flew, bringing death with every release, as soldiers on both sides fell one by one. Mike Bai pulled the crossbow's trigger once again, hitting another unlucky soldier. While the target below him was crowded, each shot didn't seem to miss, yet Mike Bai began to accept that maybe he just didn't have a natural talent for archery.

But then he glanced over to the side where Patrick, with effortless grace, drew his bow and released an arrow with a humming sound. It was a direct hit, a Saracen officer dropped dead.

After every shot, Patrick would pause, resting for a brief moment, but Mike Bai counted: in the time it took to shoot just once, Patrick had already downed seven. It seemed Patrick noticed Mike Bai observing him, as he turned with a smile.

"Looking good! A real spectacle!" Mike Bai muttered, turning his head to hide his smile. He felt a pang of regret—if only he'd practiced archery in his past life!

The siege engines continued to push forward, and after three towers were destroyed, the rest of the weapons finally reached the castle walls.

The massive siege towers approached the battlements slowly, with archers now able to shoot down at the defenders.

"Suppress them!" Patrick shouted, and the crossbowmen around him launched a volley of arrows, temporarily silencing the archers on the towers. But without their crossbow support, Saracen foot soldiers began to make steady progress.

Finally, a battering ram reached the castle gate. A few soldiers pulled it back, setting it to strike with full force.

"Boom!"

The sturdy iron-bound doors began to warp under the blow.

Mike Bai stood atop the wooden observation tower, right above the battering ram. He waved his hand, signaling the release of several barrels filled with oil. The foul-smelling liquid splashed across the ram.

Before the soldiers below even realized what had happened, Mike Bai dropped a burning torch down onto the gate. The narrow passageway turned into a furnace as the battering ram caught fire, along with several Saracen soldiers who became human torches, running and screaming in agony.

The soldiers around them avoided the inferno, but the sight of the burning ram left Mike Bai relieved—at least for now. But just as he straightened up, his eyes caught sight of a bed crossbow glinting ominously in the distance.

A shadow darted toward him, tackling Mike Bai to the ground. A cold flash of steel whizzed by, and with a sharp crack, a bed crossbow bolt pierced the observation tower.

"Are you alright, Sassan?" Mike Bai asked, patting the woman beside him.

Sassan immediately jumped up, grabbing Mike Bai by the arm. "We have to go! Now!"

Mike Bai was dragged away just as a volley of bolts struck the tower. At least five bed crossbows had targeted the observation platform. The wooden structure, already riddled with holes, crumbled under the subsequent attack, turning into a pile of useless splinters.

As Mike Bai glanced back, the danger was far from over. The door of another siege tower slammed into the battlements beside him, and several heavily armored Saracen soldiers raised their shields, preparing to charge.

"Fire oil!"

Another round of fire-lit oil barrels flew from the defenders, igniting the soldiers who had climbed up, turning them into living flames. They panicked, running wild, some even jumping off the walls in a desperate attempt to escape the inferno.

"Are you okay, Mike Bai?" Otto called out, pulling Mike Bai to his feet with concern.

"I'm fine!" Mike Bai patted himself down to check for injuries.

"Good, stay behind me," Otto said, pushing Mike Bai out of harm's way as he surveyed the enemy forces below. He waved to a soldier in the distance. "William!"

Seeing the signal, William shouted orders to the nearby troops. "Sand!"

Five iron buckets, still glowing red from the flames, were turned over, spilling scalding sand onto the soldiers below. The fine grains sifted through the seams of their armor, burning their skin as they writhed in agony.

The screams were deafening, but the Saracen soldiers were undeterred, continuing to surge forward, scaling ladders and siege towers to engage the defenders in a brutal melee.

"Let's show these Saracens what real battle looks like!" Harold, leading a group of Norse mercenaries, charged to the frontlines. His towering frame loomed over the narrow walls as he swung his massive axe, cleaving through enemy soldiers.

One unlucky Saracen, who had just descended from a ladder, was sent flying off the walls as if struck by a baseball bat. Harold's laughter echoed as he hacked through his enemies with brutal efficiency.

With every swing of his axe, another soldier fell. Despite the Saracen's desperate efforts to break his defenses, their blades were useless against his heavy armor.

"Is there anyone else?" Harold yelled, as more and more Saracens fell in front of him, their bodies piling up even higher than the battlement itself. Finally, Harold surveyed the battlefield—there were no more Saracens on the walls.

Below, the enemy forces began to retreat, but several siege towers continued to burn.

Mike Bai, his face blackened from smoke, looked out at the blood-red sunset and muttered to himself, "The first day..."