Chapter 367 Battle of Montenegro (11)


Chapter 367 Battle of Montenegro (11)

The war horse scratched its hooves on the ground angrily, and the coldness of the ice surface made him particularly uncomfortable through the horseshoes.

Niedersal stroked his mane with pity. This hybrid horse came from the desert. His father was Niedersal's first war horse.

Unfortunately, in a battle with French mercenaries, the most heroic horse it had ever seen died under the giant sword of a domestic servant.

And now this war horse will accompany him to launch one of the most exciting charges in his life.

Even Niedersall had to admit that the rebels in front of him were somewhat capable.

According to the current situation, he can accurately judge that if he continues to fight, if he is lucky, it will be a tie, if he is unlucky, he will be defeated.

On the opposite side to the east is the highland that is difficult to attack, and there are also a group of old guys like the Kush Knights who are holding them back.

Although it seems to be a weak point, the weakness is too prominent and the unexpected effect is lost.

Niddsall's battlefield creed is to never do what your enemy wants you to do.

With years of experience on the battlefield, Niedersall quickly realized that the enemy's right wing was the breakthrough point.

It only has car and fortifications on the front, while the sides and back are plains between puddles and swamps. Naturally, the Salvation Army will not take more precautions.

The only problem is how to pass through the puddle and attack the right wing.

For an Imperial Earl, this is a problem.

But for a tribal knight who grew up in the flesh and blood royal court, this is not a problem.

Pulling out the wizard slaves who had been imprisoned for more than five years, Niedersall threatened them with death, used freedom to win them over, and successfully got their help.

He let Zelaken continue to attack from the front to attract the attention of the Salvation Army from the front.

In the woodlands and swamps, these wizards went on and on, using the magic of turning mud into stone and frost to pave a smooth path for Niddsaal.

A smooth road to victory.

Besides him, the last batch of hundreds of knights were walking over the ice and hardened soil.

Beside their horses' hooves, more than a dozen wizards, all wet with sweat, looked ferocious and wore heavy chains around their necks, wrists and ankles.

These Black Snake Bay wizards, old and young, wear thin robes, and behind each of them is a Nicossack holding a javelin to monitor.

"Are everyone here?"

"The last twenty, the ice is a little slippery." As soon as Nani Cossack finished speaking, he saw the last twenty knights flying very fast walked over.

“Everyone is here now.”

When the last knight's horse's hoof stepped on the solid ground, the warriors' collective legs weakened and they sat down on the ground.

"Form up the team and prepare to charge!"

"I obey, Your Excellency."

"Your Excellency..." A wizard managed to stand up, but his bean sprout-like body seemed to Holding up such a heavy yoke, "What did you promise?"

"Do you think I will break my promise?" Niedersall took out a key from his arms, "It can unlock your necks." The shackles will make you feel better

If we are defeated, you still need to maintain these magic tricks to help us go back. Only then will the contract be completed. ”

Niedersall’s second battlefield creed is to always leave a way out for himself.

As for whether he will break his promise, he will naturally not break his promise.

If we can win this battle, what if we let these wizards go?

If we lose this battle, the wizard slaves he brought will probably be packed up and left with the rebels. Nature can be free.

It's just that these wizards have helped him in the past. If they fell into the hands of the rebels, it would be difficult for Niedersall to judge what would happen.

But that’s not an issue Niedersall should consider.

He raised his head, just like under the scorching sun in his hometown, a giant eagle with yellow feathers was circling in the sky.

Although Niedersall had already converted to Myrcella, at this time, he could not help but recite the Lord's Prayer to Immortality as he did in childhood.

“There is no god outside you!”

When he lowered his head, all the cunning and cunningness he had had disappeared, leaving only ferocity and cruelty.

Niedersall pointed the battle flag at Jeshka's infantry formation in front: "Charge!"

The whip was waved, and the mixed-breed horses in the desert neighed like a roar, and the scorching sun shone brightly. Standing on the domed helmet, I felt like I was back home - the desert where no grass could grow, the wasteland of the empire. "Woooooooo-"

Niedersall heard the rebels' nervous horn sound, but what's the use of it?

He could see the commander wearing a blindfold yelling curses while quickly directing the troops from facing away to facing forward.

"One hundred yards!" the adjutant beside him shouted loudly.

"Raise the javelin, get ready!" His pupils narrowed sharply, and Niedersall seemed to have established some kind of connection with the war eagle sand sculpture in the sky.

He could see that the rebels on the opposite side had only turned half way at most, and were currently facing him in a column.

The Holy Gunslingers in the first row were half-kneeling, while the Holy Gunslingers in the second row bent down, aiming their black muskets at the running Nicossacks.

Good processing, reducing the projected striking surface, but that's about it.

Let's see who is faster.

"Seventy yards!"

"Throw!"

Niedersall could feel the muscles pushing up the skin and sticking it tightly to the hot arm armor. superior.

Under the acceleration of the war horses, three hundred javelins rose into the sky like hanging rain, then cut through the air and headed straight for the Salvation Army.

Three hundred knights followed closely behind, still charging after the javelin in front.

But the javelins were much faster than their charging speed, and they fell into the Salvation Army's array with a sharp whistling sound.

The high-speed flying javelins caught the Salvation Army off guard. The long thorns from the Flesh Royal Court penetrated their chests and heads, pinning them to the ground.

Dozens of war monks fell on their backs, sticky and slippery blood sliding down their chests or vests along the javelin shafts.

They desperately held the gun barrel to prevent their bodies from being torn apart again.

"Get out of the way, don't block the line of sight." Pushing away the war monk standing in front of him, Jeshka looked at these good guys he had trained little by little, his eyes full of anger.

But he did not show any anger: "The holy guns fired back, Barnaby's column turned into a horizontal column!"

Under the scoldings and whippings of the division captains, the Salvation Army The holy gunners reacted quickly.

After that familiar slogan, screams and thunder intertwined, and the lead bullets whizzed away, facing the charging knights.

Amidst the clanging sounds, at least twenty of the knights who rushed in were hit, and about thirty were tripped.

The war horse neighed and fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and screaming.

While the retinue knights fell, Barnaby's Sixth Black Hat Legion behind them finally completed their turn.

They lined up again neatly and stopped in front of the knights. The second wave of lead bullets was shot out, killing or injuring dozens of knights.

To their surprise, the more than 300 knight knights collapsed on the spot. They cried and dispersed in both directions.

"Fortunately, nothing big went wrong." Barnaby breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the leaving knights, but as soon as he relaxed, he felt a huge shadow covering his sight.

The giant sandy-yellow eagle, which was more than half a person tall, swooped down on his face. Barnaby just screamed, and an eyeball was lifted up into the sky by the sand eagle.

“Damn it, who will shoot it down?” Fiercely shooting an arrow at the giant eagle in the sky, Jeshka yelled, “Get on top and wait for our cavalry to arrive!”

The crowd was stirring, and under the angry rebuke of the low-level monks and knights, the center army and the left and right wings launched infantry at the same time and began to attack.

As long as a gap is opened on the right wing, it will be Niedersall's most familiar oblique attack tactic.

"Come on, come on." A crazy smile appeared on Niedersall's rough face, "Let's see who is the bravest person in the world!"

The distance between the two sides is only the last. Thirty yards.

“Throw!”

Lost the obstruction of the knights in front, Niedersall threw the javelin in his hand, buzzing and running at a high speed.

"Barnaby, look out!"

"Squat down!"

Barnaby, who was still covering his face and screaming, had not yet responded, when the javelin passed through his throat.

The moment Barnaby died, the Sixth Black Hat Legion, which had just been lined up, was immediately torn apart.

(End of this chapter)

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