Chapter 274 You Come and I Go
Facing the Joan of Arc army that retreated like a tide, the war monks did not pursue it.
After the horn sounded from the rear, the war monks quickly stopped and returned to the previous defensive line.
The injured war monks were transported to the rear for treatment, and the last few rows of war monks who had not participated in the battle were rotated to the front.
The most severely damaged Second Black Hat Army was moved to the rear and replaced by the Sixth Black Hat Army.
In the smoke, the war monks, who had been marching all morning and fighting for half an hour, could finally sit down and take a sip of hot soup.
As for the Holy Gunners, after drinking the sleeping wheat porridge containing medicine, they fell asleep in the temporary hut.
They need to quickly restore their holy power in this way in order to return to the battlefield as soon as possible.
Stepping on the muddy ground, the sky became darker and darker, and the dull moisture made people and horses feel extremely uncomfortable.
Bolio stroked the restless horses, his face as green as if he was wearing a bronze mask.
"Lord Boolo." The knight on the side handed a strand of silk thread to Boolo's hand.
His fingers stroked the tough silk thread wrapped in mucus. Boolius rubbed his thumb, index and middle fingers and pulled out a sticky white thread.
Looking around, in the dim light, Boillou couldn't tell how many such spider silks they had placed in the bushes.
"Those farmers just now, all will be executed."
"All will be executed? Why?" an adjutant asked in surprise.
"There is no way these threads are temporary. They have already set up positions here, waiting for us to come." He growled and tore off the threads in his hands. Boillou looked through the bushes and saw Berard's blood-soaked corpse said, "These farmers lied to us!"
Not long after, miserable howls came from the back of the battle formation, including voices begging for mercy and loud shouts. Voices shouting "Victory, Salvation Army!"
The hot smell of blood made several monks sitting around and resting feel slightly nauseous.
The leader of the monks, a monk with a Mediterranean Paul-style haircut, stood up: "Lord Paolo, how should we deal with it next?"
"How much did we lose just now? Have the troops been integrated?" Boolo asked the newly appointed Temple Knight Commander of Castle Joan of Arc.
The knight commander nodded nervously: "We lost seventy-three extraordinary knights, of which thirty-eight were dead, ten were seriously injured, and twenty-five were missing.
Of the 77 knights who returned, more than half suffered minor injuries. He was injured and in the stage of exhaustion after using the potion, and he will not be able to return to the battlefield for at least three hours."
More than half an hour after the battle began, there were only 400 capable knights among the 550 extraordinary knights.
"The infantry continues to attack." Taking a deep breath, Boolo calmed down, "Don't give them a breather, let the night watch guards clean up all the spider silk in the bushes."
"Are they still capable of fighting again?"
"Damn it, let those armored sergeants escort them to the battlefield, do you still want me to teach you?" His lower eyelids were trembling, and Boillou spoke with a lot of anger.
After taking a few deep breaths, he slowly exhaled a breath, clapped his hands, and a baron dressed as a small nobleman in leather armor came forward and half-knelt.
“You bring your longbowmen and shoot arrows from the side of the battlefield, suppress and harass them, and lure them to fire the devil’s wind.”
According to the oldest and simple principle of reciprocity, Boilius I believe that the devil's wind blown by the so-called holy gunman must come at a cost and cannot be used without cost.
While the knight captain was scolding and scolding, an extraordinary knight with a slap mark on his face walked through the crowd and came to the armored sergeants.
A few minutes later, the armored sergeant with whip marks on his face waved his whip viciously and called up the night watch guards sitting on the ground.
After almost a quarter of an hour, the escaped night guards gathered again and headed towards the battlefield again with a grimace.
Driven by the armored sergeants, the night watch guards wearing gray uniforms and leather armor set foot on this bloody land again with trembling calves.
In the middle of the bushes are the bodies of hundreds of night watch guards, some of whom were seriously injured and dying, still making meaningless whines.
"Holy Father, bless me." After kissing the statue of the Holy Father hanging on his chest, a night guard carefully stood in front of the green bushes, using a hook spear and an ax to clean up the entangled Spider silk among the bushes.
More than three hundred longbowmen, including many low-level extraordinary longbowmen, quickly sneaked from the forest on the side and came to the side of the Salvation Army's formation.
The baron put the ring on his finger, placed a long arrow on the bow arm, and drew the long bow into a full moon shape.
"Whoosh——"
A long arrow pierced the sky like a meteor and landed at the feet of the war monks of the Black Hat First Legion on the left.
At the same time, the horn sounded again and the battle resumed.
"Rebels! The devil bless you!" "Go to hell!"
"For victory!"
"Idegrami! Exit Habi!"< br>
In this open space that is more than a hundred meters long and wide, the sound of killing mixed with Laian, French and Orc language sounded again.
The Night Guards and the Salvation Army seemed to be in a tug-of-war. Whenever the Night Guards came like a wave, they would retreat under the flood-like offensive of the Salvation Army.
Stone bullets and lead bullets flew among the crowd, and tears mixed with blood flowed on the ground.
But they did not pursue them. They would retreat neatly before entering the charging range of the knights. While Montejac was overjoyed, it also made Boillou's face look increasingly ugly.
On the edge of the battlefield, waves of arrows fell on the Salvation Army positions.
For the Salvation Army, which is mostly equipped with helmets and iron armor, most bows and arrows only cause minor injuries, but they still have a considerable impact on the overall combat effectiveness.
When the armored sergeants reorganized their broken troops, they were surprised to find several ancient small catapults appearing on the battlefield.
This is the part that the Salvation Army found in the warehouse in Mayo Town. This was what Horn was waiting for in Ashheard Town.
With the hard work of Ashheard Town craftsmen day and night, they built these four small catapults.
But these four catapults are not used to project stones.
The long rope connected to the long pole was held in the hands of several strong men. They slowly pulled off the leather bag of the catapult, put several jars inside, and lit the fire with the light rope. .
A white bandage was covering the arrow wound on his thigh. A strong Salvation Army man with bulging veins grabbed the long rope of the catapult with his companions.
“Try this, you rats who only dare to shoot arrows!”
In the estimated time, a dozen jars flew up into the air and landed scatteredly. In front of a clearing in the woods.
When phosphorite, wine and charcoal were mixed together, Horn failed to create an ideal Molotov cocktail, but accidentally produced a poisonous smoke bomb.
The clay pot was broken, there was a faint fire light, and the yellowish mist exploded, swallowing the edge of the forest.
Paslik stood on the edge of the battlefield, his hands facing each other in a crescent shape, his eyes glowing with magic power, and black blood flowing from his nostrils.
"Wind!"
The leaves rustled, and the poisonous smoke seemed to have a shape. Not only did it not drift away, but it moved towards the woods like tentacles.
After a brief silence, the sound of violent coughing and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground came from the smoke.
A few salivating archers stumbled out of the woods.
Before they could run a few steps, their legs gave way and they fell to the ground. Their bodies trembled and then stopped moving.
"Despicable wizard! Damn monster!" Seeing the longbowmen running in the forest, Boolo punched the tree next to him.
Although the poisonous smoke only poisoned about twenty archers, it was difficult to shoot like just now due to the smoke obstruction and restricted vision.
In the three waves of back-and-forth blows, the Salvation Army’s military formation hardly changed.
On the contrary, the night watch guards were damaged and lost their combat effectiveness, accounting for almost one-third of the total number.
"I'm sorry, Your Excellency, cough, cough, cough, these Salvation Army, they are so despicable, the strings of their bows broke for me..." The baron who led the longbowmen looked gray and half-knelt in front of Boolo.
"I don't have time to listen to your nonsense." Boolio said impatiently, "I asked you to go to the woods. Did you find anything?"
The baron hurriedly put what he had just said. From what he saw, Horn's orc scouts were killed by Berard and were unable to stop the longbowmen.
“You mean, you saw the demon Horn at the back of the gentle slope?”
“Yes.” The Baron suppressed the itching in his throat, “I saw him with my own eyes, he Wearing armor with a sun pattern on it, even if he is not, he is still an important figure in the Salvation Army.”
"And there are only a few carriages to protect him?"
"Yes."
Bioluo suddenly smiled.
(End of this chapter)