"Everyone, prepare for battle." Kailar raised his hand and shouted loudly.
The ships were already firmly moored at the port.
The keeled ships here had all been sunk, and the large keeled ships were full of disgusting skeletons, wet algae, and the pungent smell of phosphorescence.
They were disgusting things that could be completely incinerated with just one fire.
Kailar needed the Red Leaf Battleship, not these things that would explode if hit by a rocket.
But Kailar had no intention of setting up camp here.
He strongly advocated lightning warfare and scorched-earth tactics, and although the latter was a bit unethical, Kailar didn't mind winning his victory at a small cost to the enemy.
This battle was a lightning war.
With absolute speed, in two days, before the Barbarians of Bergen Island could react, they would kill all the able-bodied people here, whether children or elders.
The Barbarians had no women; all women had been killed, or—eaten!
So Kailar's orders were very clear: against the savage, uncivilized Barbarians, kill all! Kill all!
"Hey, I say, do we really have to kill everyone?" a knight asked hesitantly.
He was Demacia, and also the leader who strictly adhered to the knightly code and obeyed his liege's command to invade Red Leaf Ridge.
After Artoria ascended to the throne, he, who would rather die than surrender, submitted to Artoria's legitimate rule.
He was a very serious and rigid knight, very unaccustomed to Kailar's "atrocious" orders.
"The Sage tells you to do it, so do it," a knight next to him teased, pulling down his visor.
The Barbarians' hand axes were quite powerful; hitting the face could directly cut into the front of the brain.
But if one wore a visor to reduce the attack power, then it might just be disfigurement or a broken bone.
It would be very dangerous, but there was a certain chance of healing, and Kailar was right behind him, so being injured but not dead was almost equivalent to full recovery.
Shaking his head, Demacia pulled down his visor and led his squad off the ship.
His squad consisted of twenty-five knights, and their mission was to kill all Barbarians along the way.
There were no people left at the port; perhaps they had received information that the Camelot people were coming, or perhaps all the Barbarians had gone to war and considered the port unsafe.
In any case, there wasn't a single Barbarian at the port.
Otherwise, there would have been a massacre before they even docked.
And after Demacia's squad disembarked, knight squads continuously left the fifteen ships.
Before long, there were no knights left on the ships except for a hundred naval personnel.
Kailar pondered for a moment and then gave the order: "Untie the ropes, we will anchor a hundred meters offshore outside the port."
This was a port, with no wind and no large waves, which made it a good port.
A good port wouldn't need to fear sharks, crocodiles (saltwater crocodiles are much larger and fiercer than freshwater crocodiles), or pirates.
But Kailar was inherently cautious and simply chose the safest way to conduct the operation.
Watching the fifteen large ships slowly cruise to the center of the port, a Gaul elder hidden in the dark fiercely grabbed a handful of dirt, then whispered to the people behind him, "Forget it, don't bother with the ships.
Let's go kill these Camelot people who don't know their place first!"
"Oh oh!" Many fierce-looking children behind him, with excited expressions, raised their axes and let out shouts, then, led by the old Gaul, disappeared into the mountains.
Soon, the melody of slaughter echoed across the island.
Perhaps the Gauls knew the terrain, but they were simply too weak, consisting only of the old, weak, and disabled.
No, remove the 'disabled' part; illness and disability were considered weakness by the Gauls, and anyone experiencing these two conditions would be executed.
The old and weak, the children, shouted and jumped down from high places, trying to hack the knights to death with axes, but the greatswords in the knights' hands were even heavier than all of them combined.
Blocking their small axes was child's play; in just a brief moment, almost all thirty attackers were dead, and more than ten children were captured.
Their axes were thrown aside, and they huddled together, looking at these invaders wrapped in iron with hateful and venomous eyes.
"Do we really have to kill them?" Killing now was different from killing just now.
Killing just now was self-defense; killing now was a unilateral massacre.
Demacia also hesitated, turning his head to his friend who had teased him earlier.
Although his friend had been jokingly interesting earlier, when it was truly his turn to decide this matter, he finally understood how painful it was to kill a child.
"How about…" He opened his mouth but didn't see the fierce gaze of the child below him and the slight movement as he secretly reached for something behind his waist.
"Take them back and…" He opened his mouth to continue, and then a massive amount of blood gushed from his neck and mouth.
With a soft 'thwack', he fell to the ground with his heavy armor, his words unfinished.
"Bieber!!" He only vaguely heard Demacia's roar in his ears, and his body was gradually losing strength.
His consciousness blurred as he looked up at the Gaul children who had suddenly jumped up and lunged at his companions.
He opened his mouth: So the Sage's words were true, we must… exterminate them all!
But the axe that had cut into his throat through the gap in his armor, severed his carotid artery, and even cut half of his spine, was firmly stuck in his throat, preventing him from uttering his last words in life…
"Damn you, you little brats!!" Demacia's eyes instantly became bloodshot.
Facing the swarming Gaul brats, he didn't even have time to draw his knight's greatsword.
He simply used his rich experience to raise his leg, and the sharp heel of his knight's boot, with absolute force, kicked the Gaul brat who had just thrown his axe and was the first to lunge at him.
The immense force, mixed with the weight of iron, shattered his undeveloped sternum with just one blow, and several ribs even pierced his heart.
He only coughed up two mouthfuls of blood in mid-air and died before even hitting the ground.
"Kill these little brats!!" Demacia, finally having time to draw his sword, roared and charged forward.
The knights, awakened by the anger of their comrade's death, roared as they drew their swords, or even directly crashed into the enemy using the defensive power of their knight armor.