He was very worried whether blood wine with such a diluted concentration would still have the same miraculous effect, but in the end, the results proved his concerns were unfounded. More than two hundred vigorous men stood up again.

The next day, the Caesarites launched a large-scale attack, only to find, to their surprise, that the direction of their main assault encountered unprecedented resistance.

On top of the city wall, more than two hundred men stood tall and proud.

The city wall was still as broken as before, the weapons just as damaged, but the defenders were different. These two hundred-plus men glared with bloodshot eyes, exuding murderous intent, and fearlessly faced Caesar’s elite soldiers. This time, the attacking soldiers encountered the greatest nightmare in their history.

The soldiers of the Han Empire seemed possessed by demons. Each one was incredibly strong, agile, and utterly fearless. More importantly, they seemed to feel neither pain nor fatigue—even when blades struck their bodies, they didn’t so much as frown.

Under the leadership of these two hundred men, the rest of the soldiers were also inspired, their fighting spirit ignited, and they bravely charged forward, showing not a trace of cowardice.

The low city wall became a brutal meat grinder, sending wave after wave of Caesarites straight to hell. On this day, the Caesarites finally got serious, sending in one thousand-man unit after another. Due to the limited area of the wall, only units of a thousand could operate at maximum efficiency, and this was also the main reason the Han side could hold out.

By the time the Caesarites stopped, it was already the next day. By then, they had been attacking without rest for a full day and night. Everyone on the Han side was wounded, but during this day and night, one of Caesar’s ten-thousand-man units was completely decimated, with a casualty rate as high as seventy percent, forcing them to disband the unit.

That night, Henry Sutton once again ruthlessly drew a bowl of blood, but this time he mixed it with twenty jars of wine.

As it turned out, even such diluted blood wine could have the same effect.

When the third day’s battle ended and Henry Sutton released a third bowl of blood, all the remaining soldiers in the city had become blood wine warriors.

Henry Sutton naturally became the leader of this group. In their eyes, he saw a trace of dark red—a strange and mysterious shade—and anyone with such dark red eyes would obey his orders unconditionally. Moreover, he himself would trust them without reason. This indescribable, mystical feeling gave him an immense thrill. However, their shortcomings were also obvious: they seemed to have become a pack of bloodthirsty wolves who knew only how to fight, and not a single one could offer him even a word of advice.

Fortunately, their talent for soldiering was fully awakened. Under the guidance of the veterans, they performed at two hundred percent of their ability, and the new recruits grew at an astonishing rate. Three days later, except for Henry Sutton, no one showed even a hint of childishness.

Although they had repelled the enemy’s attacks, apart from those who had died, most of the Han soldiers were so badly wounded they could barely move. With no other choice, Henry Sutton drew blood again to save them, and the results were even more astonishing than before. By the next morning, not only had all the Han soldiers fully recovered, but they were even more vigorous than before. In this way, relying on Henry Sutton’s daily bowl of blood wine, they managed to hold out until today.

Henry Sutton’s body was extremely strange. If an ordinary person lost a bowl of blood every day, in a few days they would almost certainly be reporting to the King of Hell. But although Henry Sutton was tired, he showed no signs of being close to death.

They carried out Henry Sutton’s orders to hold the line with absolute thoroughness. All the battles were fought on the city wall, allowing the Caesarites to calmly arrange their forces outside the city, but from start to finish, the Caesarites never managed to gain control of the wall for even a single minute.

In the first few days, Henry Sutton still held out hope for reinforcements, but twenty days passed without even a shadow of help appearing. By now, he had guessed that, perhaps for strategic reasons, the Han Empire had already abandoned their camp, and the shadow of despair grew ever larger in his heart.

Fortunately, here his word was law, and this group of blood wine-crazed madmen had no issues with morale whatsoever. Henry Sutton also knew very well that after this period of fighting with the Caesarites, the two sides had formed a deep and irreconcilable hatred. If he gave up resisting, the only fate awaiting him would be death. So he could only grit his teeth and hold on.

Yesterday, all the food was completely used up. In fact, the supplies in the camp could have lasted three months, but because Henry Sutton, as a half-baked commander, was clueless, he made the decision ten days ago to abandon the outer wall and concentrate all personnel within the inner city wall for defense.

Overall, this strategy was absolutely correct, but before ordering the retreat, he had forgotten that all the food was stored in the logistics department, which was located outside the inner city. By the time he realized, it was already too late.

Without food, there was no strength left—how could they keep fighting? And after all this time, most of the two thousand-plus warriors had died; now, only a little over two hundred remained. However, compared to losing half their men on the first day, the fact that the Han army had managed to hold out for twenty days with just half their original strength was nothing short of a miracle.

Chapter Two Rescue