Time Travel? Rebirth? I Win This Time!

As the retreating crossbowmen covered the warriors still fighting on the outer wall from atop the inner walls, workers scrambled in a chaotic swarm towards the inner gate.

"Harold! Teach them what order means!" Mike Bai shouted to Harold, who stood off to one side.

With a sinister grin, Harold swung his great axe down upon a lifeless body, the booming sound grabbing the attention of every worker in the vicinity. Covered in blood and shards of unknown material, Harold looked like a demon risen from hell, causing the workers to instinctively halt in their tracks.

"Form a line!" Harold's coarse voice cut through the air, echoing in the workers' ears. The retreat began to take some semblance of order.

William, along with some of the manor's guards, was engaged in a fierce battle atop the wall with the Mamluks. Though the retreat signal had sounded, turning their backs to the enemy would only hasten their demise.

"Crossbowmen, suppress the enemy on the tower! Cover their retreat!" Mike Bai yelled, ignoring the strain in his voice as he nocked another bolt.

For a moment, the arrows rained down from the inner wall, and the enemy's advance on the outer wall stalled.

Seizing the opportunity, William quickly descended from the outer wall and jogged over to Mike Bai, panting heavily.

"William! Are you alright?"

"The armor's still holding up. I'll survive," William said, dismissing the wounds that marred his body from the battle.

"And the others?" After catching his breath, he asked.

"Not sure!" Mike Bai replied, too busy reloading his crossbow to pay William any more attention.

At that moment, Captain Hammur, bloodied and battered, returned with his men.

"Get back! The gate's closing!" Otto, standing atop the inner wall, waved frantically towards Mike Bai.

Pointing in a direction, Mike Bai turned to Otto and shouted, "Patrick is still out there!"

Otto glanced in the direction Mike Bai had indicated and saw Patrick and a handful of men still holding the line on a section of the wall.

"I can't leave him!" Mike Bai turned back to his men and shouted, "Anyone who can still move, follow me!"

"Get back now, Mike Bai!" Otto yelled in frustration, but he could only watch as Mike Bai led his group away.

Patrick, breathing heavily behind a section of wall, was struggling. His arms ached from continuous archery, and his once-sharp eyes were now bloodshot. Surrounded on both sides, the path to descend from the wall was blocked.

If that's the case, then I'll carve a path through them! Patrick's eyes glinted as he drew his sword.

Unlike William, who relied on brute strength, Patrick's swordsmanship was precise, like a surgeon's scalpel.

As a curved sword swung at him, Patrick's blade became a silver arc, effortlessly deflecting the strike and cutting down several oncoming enemies in one smooth motion.

A group of Mamluks, noticing the threat he posed, approached cautiously with their shields raised.

Having just dispatched one opponent, Patrick calmly raised his sword, watching for any opening.

Three shields crashed toward him almost simultaneously, but Patrick, with a swift motion, kicked a discarded dagger on the ground. It slid through the left Mamluk's Achilles tendon, causing him to fall, disrupting their formation.

Taking advantage of the opening, Patrick lunged left, raising his sword to parry an incoming blow. With a deft twist, his blade snapped through the opponent's weapon, then pressed the point into the weak point of the Mamluk's armor beneath the armpit.

The enemy Mamluk crumpled, and Patrick swiftly planted his foot on the fallen warrior's leg, giving a challenging look to the remaining adversaries.

Infuriated, the last Mamluk raised his shield and charged.

Patrick sneered, spinning his sword around so the hilt became a blunt instrument. With a mighty swing, the sword's heavy end smashed into the Mamluk's skull, sending him staggering back. As his vision cleared, Patrick's blade was already at his throat.

Just as Mike Bai and his men arrived, they saw Patrick deliver the final blow, his sword sinking into the enemy's throat.

After swiftly finishing off another fallen foe, Patrick waved cheerfully at Mike Bai, as though he were attending an afternoon tea rather than a battlefield.

William rushed to the wall, surveying the carnage. He hesitated, then said with some uncertainty, "The pretty boy's killed twelve today. I'm sure I've taken down more than you."

"Seventeen. Oaf!" Patrick shook his head, unimpressed with William's count.

"Impossible!" William responded incredulously. Just then, an enemy leapt from an occupied tower and swung a weapon toward his back.

A dagger flew through the air, burying itself in the enemy's skull.

"Eighteen!" Patrick said nonchalantly as he passed William, casually pulling the dagger from the corpse's head.

"Enough bickering! The enemy's coming up!" Mike Bai motioned urgently.

More Saracen soldiers scaled the walls, and one Mamluk archer, noticing Mike Bai, loosed an arrow from near the top of the tower. It pierced through Mike Bai's long mail, embedding itself in his thigh. He collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Mike Bai!" Both Patrick and William shouted, rushing to his side.

With more enemies climbing the walls, Patrick calmly raised his bow and said, "Get Mike Bai to safety! I'll handle the rear."

With Mike Bai groaning in pain, William hurriedly cut off part of the arrow shaft and lifted him into his arms, racing toward the inner gate with the rest of the group providing cover.

Patrick glared at the enemy on the wall, fury burning in his eyes. He drew his bow again, the string pulled taut like the moon itself.

"Whoosh!" An arrow struck down a Mamluk archer below, and Patrick continued firing relentlessly. Each shot found its mark, taking down an approaching infantryman or a threatening archer.

For a time, Patrick alone suppressed the enemy on a section of the wall.

But then, as he reached for another arrow, his quiver was empty.

One soldier, crouched behind a shield, noticed and grinned, charging at Patrick.

Patrick, with lightning speed, plucked an arrow out of the air, nocked it, and fired. The soldier's smile faded as the arrow pierced his chest.

"Patrick!" William shouted from below the gate. Patrick didn't hesitate, grabbing a shield and strapping it to his back, heading down the wall.

Arrows rained against his shield, but Patrick's pace never faltered.

However, another group of enemies reached the gate before him, and the massive iron gate dropped with a heavy clang, sealing him off.

"Patrick! Over here!" William called, throwing down a rope from the tower.

With the enemy closing in, Patrick made a swift dash for the rope. Just as they were about to close in on him, he grabbed the rope, swinging up with the grace of a pendulum. In one smooth motion, he vaulted over the inner wall, landing effortlessly.

Looking down at the enraged enemies and William, who was still tugging on the rope with frustration, Patrick grinned.

"Sorry for the delay, everyone." Then, his body, pierced by a dozen arrows, collapsed.