Time Travel? Rebirth? I Win This Time!

As the first light of dawn cut through the darkness on the second day, the Saracens finished their morning prayers, and the brief peace vanished once again.

Bloodshot-eyed Mike Bai stood atop the city wall, watching the Saracen forces resume their movements with the same regularity as before. It was clear to him that the assassination attempt by the Sassanids had failed. A feeling of unease settled in Mike Bai's chest—the battlefield was beginning to turn against them.

Mike Bai estimated that the Saracens had lost at least 700 soldiers in the battle the day before, with an equal number wounded. But they still had roughly 6,000 men ready for combat today. On the other side, the casualties from the Knights Templar alone had exceeded 100 dead or severely wounded, and over 200 unprotected workers had lost their fighting ability. With just 1,300 men remaining, it was becoming impossible to adequately defend the entire 600-meter-long stretch of the city wall.

Although they had burned a significant number of siege weapons the previous day, the Saracens still brought forward 8 siege towers and 6 battering rams today, with their crossbows and shields untouched. On their side, most of the fire oil had been used up, and many of the watchtowers on the outer walls had been destroyed by crossbow fire. The counterweight trebuchets had suffered damage too, with two of them inoperable and the remaining two in poor condition.

Mike Bai licked his cracked lips and fixed his gaze on the enemy's banner. Both sides were now like wounded beasts, fighting with whatever last strength they had left.

He knew well that if they won today, then Salah ad-Din would be without large siege weapons for at least five days. But if the Saracens won, it would be a catastrophic loss, forcing them to retreat behind the inner walls.

The battle began, as always, with the massive stone projectiles flying. Everyone quickly took cover behind the walls, watching as the stones flew back and forth. But unlike the usual casual mood, today the air was heavy with the realization that this was going to be a bloodbath.

The sun slowly rose, and the archers on both sides drew nearer, ready to unleash a deadly rain of arrows.

Mike Bai, hidden in a tower, observed a group of makeshift crossbowmen nearby. They reminded him of the "Uncle Black" from a previous life—struggling to load their crossbows with awkward movements, and firing blindly into the masses below before ducking back into cover, repeating the cycle.

To compensate for the shortage of skilled archers, Mike Bai had given out all 100 crossbows from the armory to the workers. After all, crossbows were simple to operate, and there were plenty of targets below. They could just fire mechanically.

As for the effectiveness… Mike Bai sighed. It was better than nothing.

"Whoosh!" An arrow whistled past him, embedding itself in the wall just beside him. Mike Bai quickly ducked back, startled. The Saracen archers in the siege towers had started to take advantage of their elevated position, raining down arrows on the defenders.

The temporary crossbowmen froze, too terrified to act.

"Counterattack! Now!" Mike Bai grabbed a crossbow from one of the workers and fired at the archers on the siege tower. The bolt flew true, hitting its target—the enemy archer who had been closest.

"Lucky they don't know who I was aiming for," Mike Bai thought with a grin, enjoying the awe of the workers around him. He casually tossed the crossbow back to its owner and gave a slow kick to a worker who was hesitating. "Hurry up! If we lose the castle, we all die!"

The makeshift crossbowmen finally began to fire back, though the results were meager. Mike Bai felt a growing sense of urgency but could do nothing to change the tide of the battle.

At last, the gates of the siege tower crashed against the city walls. Several Saracen soldiers, drenched in water, leapt from the tower onto the ramparts, facing the castle's defenders.

"Kill them!" William roared, swinging a large cleaver at the nearest enemy. The sheer force of his blow knocked the Saracen soldier, still in midair, off the wall with a shriek, his body swallowed by the sea of fighting men below.

But more Saracens poured out of the siege towers, jumping from the gates directly onto the defenders. Many were impaled on spears, but those who survived quickly found their footing in the thick of the defense.

One of the Saracen warriors, having steadied himself, swung a scimitar at William. "Die!"

William blocked the blow with his own blade, gritting his teeth as the clash of steel echoed.

"Clang!" "Clang!" "Clang!"

William's sword snapped in two after repeated strikes, but his experience kicked in. Without hesitation, he charged at his opponent, driving the broken blade deep into the enemy's chest. The crude armor crumpled beneath the strike, and the Saracen soldier crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

William seized the scimitar from the fallen soldier's hands and continued the fight.

Mike Bai watched as the defenders managed to push back the first wave of enemies on this section of the wall. For a moment, his anxiety eased. But then his gaze turned to the siege towers, which were steadily closing in on the walls.

"We can't let those towers reach the walls," Mike Bai muttered. "What about the trebuchets?"

He turned to the distant trebuchets, where several workers were desperately loading stones. At that moment, a volley of stone projectiles screamed overhead, smashing the remaining trebuchets into pieces.

"Damn it," Mike Bai cursed. He didn't need to worry about those anymore. Rising to his feet, he scanned the battlefield, his eyes locking on more siege towers drawing closer.

"If the enemy makes it onto the walls, we're finished," Mike Bai thought. Then, as if reading his mind, he saw a group of well-armored soldiers begin to climb up the siege towers.

"Salah ad-Din's gone mad. He's sending his Mamluk elite so early into the fray!" Mike Bai exclaimed, hardly believing his own eyes.

"This can't go on!" Mike Bai grabbed a crossbow, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Crossbowmen! Follow me!"

As the Mamluks reached the top of the walls, William felt the pressure mount. These elite soldiers, clad in heavy armor, were like unstoppable juggernauts, crashing into the defenders with reckless abandon. Ordinary soldiers had no chance against them. Even William's own sword strikes were blocked or deflected by their armor. Finally, he seized an opening and kicked one