Loser System and Berserker Me-Chapter 68: It’s Still Raining

“Hey, brother.” A Venetian soldier, who was stuck indoors due to the raging storm, suddenly stood up and pressed his ear against the wall to listen closely. “I think I hear something outside.”

“Could our neighbors be going at it?” another slightly intoxicated soldier put down an alcohol bottle as he asked.

The Khitan Caesar.

The Priest King from the Eastern Lands.

The Scourge of God.

He was about to arrive at Water City Venice with his twin-headed eagle flag. Despite thinking that they could guard the city, the soldiers still couldn’t help but be intimidated.

They had heard from all kinds of channels news about the tragic plights that had befallen the Balkans and Anatolia. The more they heard, the more despair they felt…

Even if we succeed in holding Venice, how many of us will die in the battle?

Not knowing whether they would live to see the next daybreak, some of them took out their life savings in search of pleasure. Since a few days ago, it had become common to hear thumping sounds.

“No, that doesn’t sound like it,” the soldier with his ear pressed against the wall replied grimly after some thought, “It sounds like horse hooves?”

“You must be kidding!” The drinking soldier nearly died laughing. “We’re in Water City Venice! Who in the right mind would ride a horse here? And do you see the huge storm outside? Anyone galloping out there will just fall to their deaths…”

“…”

The voice slowly softened as the clobbering of horse hooves grew clearer despite the rain not letting up in the least. Eventually, they could clearly hear it outside the door.

“…” Everyone paled in fright.

“Those bastards!” the team leader cursed under his breath.

All the soldiers in the room picked up their schiavonescas and crossbows. A number of them drew crosses in front of them.

(Schiavonescas are a type of sword.)

Bam!

The door was kicked open.

A sharp gale accompanied by heavy rain blew into the soldiers’ faces, chilling them down to their bones. However, what made their teeth clatter more were the silhouettes in the darkness.

Someone is there! Someone is outside the door!

A timely flash of lightning illuminated the scene.

A ravishing man dressed in armor, wielding a snowy-white scimitar…

“Demon!’

“It’s a demon!”

“KHITANNNNNNNN!”

The soldiers screamed in fright. They were so shaken up that they struggled to maintain their grip on their weapons.

“Use the hand cannons! Fire!” the team leader shrieked.

The ballistae were too slow. The cannons were inaccurate. The arrows were too weak.

Their only hope of destroying the Khitan Caesar was to blast him with a hand cannon in this cramped room.

A few soldiers darted to the hand cannons placed by the corner, while the others tried to stop Shu Yichao with their schiavonescas and crossbows.

A brilliant flash of white light shone.

In an instant, Shu Yichao darted to the center of the room and swung his scimitar. Despite the Venetians’ cries, screams, and curses, they swiftly crumbled to the floor. All were equal before his blade.

Blood dyed the room.

The Elite Horse Archers quickly scavenged the room for loot. One of their most prized gains was the 70 armor Milan plate armor.

Venice was indeed rich, evident from their soldiers’ superior armor.

Many of Shu Yichao’s subordinates took this chance to upgrade their armor.

Hah? You’re askingwhat if it doesn’t fit?

That’s not a problem at all. No matter how huge the size disparity between the armor and the one wearing it, the armor will still fit perfectly once it’s put on.

Don’t ask me why that’s the case. It’s simply a gaming mechanic.

“Let’s go.” Shu Yichao excitedly wiped off the water on his face. “Let’s continue our farming.”

It was indeed unsuitable for one to gallop through the heavily raining Venice, so Shu Yichao was the only mounted one in his army. His Elite Horse Archers had all alighted from their steeds.

However, that wasn’t a huge problem as his troops were still a formidable force even without their steeds.

Just like that, Shu Yichao and his thousands of troops began their attacks amidst the typhoon.

Fifty platoons of Elite Horse Archers swiftly permeated Venice’s streets and alleys, eliminating the Venetian soldiers under the cover of the night at an unbelievable speed.

Despite the Venetians’ attempts at resisting them, they were unable to stage an effective defense due to their communication failure. Just like that, the ‘blessing of the Sea God’ had become their greatest curse.

Their screams were sealed in the storm.

“Something’s amiss…” Governor-General Giraud frowned.

Despite the calm in recent days, she couldn’t help but sense treacherous currents flowing beneath. She stared at the map and tapped two points. “The troops stationed here haven’t reported to me for some time.”

“It’s a strong typhoon,” one of her aides said, “They must have gotten held up.”

“Still, it’s unusual that they aren’t sending any updates over.”

Governor-General Giraud tapped her finger on the table, and each tap only made her heart grow heavier.

“Those places are of utmost importance. Even if we aren’t at battle yet, they should have at least sent news by now. Dispatch someone over to see what’s going on! I shall see who’s being so irresponsible at this critical juncture!”

“The rain has gotten smaller,” someone exclaimed in delight.

“Hmph!” Governor-General Giraud’s mood lifted a little. “It looks like the Lord is looking after us.”

Just then, she heard the most heart-wrenching scream coming from above.

“No! It’s the Khitans!”

Terror gripped Giraud’s heart. She scrambled up the stairs and looked in the direction where the soldier who had just screamed was staring in horror at.

There, she saw a blood twin-headed eagle making its way through the streets.

“How can this be?!” Governor-General Giraud was stunned. “Impossible! How did they slip into our city?!”

“…” The trembling soldier pointed to the transport ships hidden amidst the thinning fog.

“The Genoese…” Governor-General Giraud could tell that those ships belonged to their old rival, who refused to concede defeat. “Damn it! Those lunatics! THOSE FUCKING LUNATICS!!!”

Her teeth were clenched so tightly together that they might crack under the pressure.

Just how unhinged the Khitan Caesar must be to sail to Venice on a stormy night? I have never seen anything as ridiculous as this!

Putting aside how dangerous it is to sail in such choppy waters, the Khitan Caesar actually didn’t do any scouting or probing beforehand! Navies would usually find a safe landing spot and suppress the enemies with long-ranged fire before sending in troops to secure key targets.

Yet, he chose to land on a stormy night, which made it impossible to do any effective scouting beforehand, and charged right in despite not knowing any of their defense preparations?!

That’s a fucking lunatic right there!

And those Genoese are out of their minds too, to go along with such a crazy plan. Are they not afraid of getting wiped out?

What infuriated her the most was that they actually succeeded!

“Immediately gather our people for a counterattack!” Giraud roared, “We have the numerical advantage. The Khitans won’t be able to go all out in this accursed weather! We’ll be able to push them back if we go all out!”

An intense assault swiftly unfurled in the storm.

Theoretically, the Venetians had the advantage. The furious storm did hinder their fighting prowess, but it was a huge benefit to be familiar with the terrain under low visibility conditions.

Not to mention a huge contributing factor to the strength of Shu Yichao’s troops was their prowess as cavalrymen. Having to alight from their steeds weakened them to a greater degree than the Venetians.

Yet…

Shu Yichao didn’t exist in the realms of common sense.

“Kill them!” He excitedly grabbed a spear and charged forth with Galewind, trampling down everything in his path. “Soldiers, onward! Bury them!”

Sometimes he was a wild rhinoceros, ramming down over ten people in a single charge. Sometimes he was like a valiant eagle, masterfully sniping down his prey with the ease of a veteran.

Little boats in the canals became his stepping stones. Wherever he stepped, blood and rainwater mixed.

“How can we stop him?!” the Venetians cried in the storm.

Shu Yichao had gotten so high from the fighting that he even plunged his spear into one of the little boats and hurled it over his head to smash it onto the heads of the other Venetians.

“A DEMON!”

“IT’S THE SCOURGE OF GOD!”

The Venetians crumbled in despair.

Alas, the narrow streets and alleys, as well as the rapid tides through the canals, made escape a luxury…

Boats would crash and capsize. Venetians would miss their footing on the bridge and fall into the rapidly flowing canal, then a drifting wooden plank would smack them in the head and knock them out.

The Venetians’ attempt at resistance looked pathetic in the face of Shu Yichao’s prowess.

Governor-General Giraud was stunned. Who is the one blessed by the Sea God?

“Governor-General, what should we do?” Giraud’s clerk asked with a pale face.

Giraud stomped her feet and roared, “Retreat!”

“Ah?” The clerk was stunned.

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