Chapter 412 It only takes a moment to go from recruit to veteran
Wolowitz, the new recruit of the Third Guards Army, the holy gunner, stood on the slightly damp grass, sweat sticking the thin blended fabric to his On the skin, the outline of muscles is revealed.
When he was training at Castle Joan of Arc, he would often deliberately expose his muscle lines in this way to attract the mocking curses from the nuns when their faces turned red.
But at this moment, Wolowitz was no longer in the same mood.
His breathing was rapid and his chest was heaving. Through the shoulders of the Holy Gun in the front row, he could already vaguely see the mercenary knight approaching in the distance.
Dark clouds hung in the sky, and only a faint fluorescent light fell, shining on the silver armor of the knights, reflecting a gray light.
The sound of horse hooves hitting the ground came from a distance, causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Under the bucket-shaped helmets, various colored armors and heraldic robes were draped on this group of knights without family background. The more they lacked something, the more they showed off.
But even such a figure was someone Wolowitz needed to look up to in the past.
His cousin was violated and killed in the barn by such a mercenary cavalry.
But in the lord's village court, after the priest argued hard, the lord ordered the knight to pay a fine of one lamb.
Wolowitz can still remember the ecstatic expressions on his uncles' faces - they had eight children and it didn't matter if one was missing.
But sheep, that’s a sheep, it’s a good thing!
You can shear it, you can drink goat's milk, you can hold it to sleep to keep warm, you can sell it for money in the most difficult times...
The only drawback is that it cannot be used in Wolovi Before Ci went to bed, she crowded around the fire pot with bare feet and told him the story of the saint Shelley and the rabbit. When he cried, he couldn't wipe his tears with the corner of his clothes.
A strand of hair fell and got caught on Wolowitz's long eyelashes, but he didn't dare to reach out and pick it off.
It seemed as if as soon as he picked it up, the group of knights would teleport in front of him.
"Don't move, get ready!" the division captain's hoarse voice sounded.
The charge of the knights rumbled like thunder. Wolowitz's hand holding the wind-up gun was slippery with sweat, and his fingertips rubbed the rough wooden stock uneasily.
As a new regiment of the Guards, these recruits, Wolowitz, went to the battlefield for the first time. Three months ago, they were just farmers farming in the fields.
Now, their two divisions were mobilized separately to guard the sides of the fireball crossbow position. Behind them was the cavalry regiment composed of the Ibe Knight and the Holy Gun Cavalry.
Wolowitz has always believed that the Saint is definitely more powerful than the mercenary knight Nalosi.
But when these giant beast-like objects rushed closer, the feeling of his heart pounding still invaded him.
Just like when he tried to stop the wandering knight, but was so frightened that he peed his pants under the sword.
These knights wearing heavy armor and holding spears are so powerful, but in front of them, I am still as small as before.
Can these running knights really be repelled by the clockwork guns in their hands?
Some recruits began to raise their hands involuntarily, trying to flatten the clockwork guns and aim at the incoming knights.
"You bitches, who asked you to lift the gun!" The division captain's voice rang in the ears of the recruits, causing their eardrums to ache, and even their thighs ached from being whipped on weekdays.
Frightened by the roar, the recruits trembled with fright, quickly put down the raised wind-up guns, and puffed up their chests under the sharp eyes of the division captain and the angry eyes of their own brigade captain.
Wolowitz did not subconsciously raise the holy gun, which made him feel a little proud of himself - at least he was more courageous than them.
But when the figures of the mercenary knights gradually enlarged into clear sight, this sense of pride dissipated with the white air sprayed from the nostrils of the war horses.
“Running charge!”
The battle cry of the mercenary knight leader spanned more than a hundred meters and passed through Wolowitz’s eardrums. He smelled the smell of horse manure in the wind. The rusty smell of blood and blood.
The smell is becoming more and more pungent with the increasingly rapid hoofbeats.
My ears were filled with the neighing of war horses and the sound of armor clashing,
"First row, raise the gun, aim."
"Second row, prepare."
"Third row, wind up!"
In three orders In the midst of it, Wolowitz saw the holy gunmen in front all raising their holy guns. A row of black muzzles were aimed at the running mercenary knights.
“Hold it, don’t move, I’ll beat anyone who dares to move to death.”
Many trembling war monks immediately stood at attention. Looking at the soldiers in front of them, Wolowitz actually grinned.
Wolowitz didn’t know why he was laughing, or even why he was laughing.
Do people laugh when they are extremely scared?
One hundred and twenty meters, one hundred and ten meters, one hundred meters... The distance between the knights is getting closer and closer, and the horse's hoof is like a hammer, constantly hitting the hearts of the recruits.
“Bang!”
"Who?! Everyone is not allowed to move!"
Perhaps because of being too nervous, some holy gunman suddenly pulled the trigger, which caused a big disaster.
Like a chain reaction, the sounds of the holy guns sounded one after another. "Who, who fired the gun!" the division captain roared, waving the feather gun in his hand, and snatched away the holy gun of a war monk, "Get out of my team!"
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"Division Captain, I..."
"Get out!"
Putting the holy musket on his back, the division captain blew the whistle and returned to his original position, raised the feather gun in his hand, and began to wipe out the recruits' mistakes: "Rotate position, No. 1 The second row comes forward."
"The first row of the First Holy Gun Brigade, turn right, let me go!" The brigade captain's command came clearly to my ears, "The second row moves forward, take two steps. , Aim!”
Wolowitz, who was standing in the second row, would drag the butt of the holy gun, put it on his shoulder, and take two steps forward.
Mechanically placing the gun stand on the ground in front of him, Wolowitz pushed the brim of his helmet, raised the holy gun, and placed it on the thin and fragile gun stand.
He put his index finger on the trigger, waiting for the final command.
The sound of horse hooves became clearer and clearer, and one could even see the coat of arms on their tattered flags.
The mercenary knights in the distance were still approaching, but Wolowitz's mind wandered away for some reason.
In Cousin Therese’s story, those who fight against the knights and the church are often farmers who are fooled by witches or wizards. Perhaps he is becoming one of them?
I just don’t know whether this story will be written by the Pope of the Holy See or the Pope of Salvation in the future.
"Praise the Holy Wind!"
In an inexplicable emotion, the roar of the division captain and the cheers of his companions sounded at the same time.
"Click" the anti-return pawl bounced up, and Wolowitz pulled the trigger almost out of conditioned reflex.
The sound of rolling air flowed out from the air pressure balance hole, and the clockwork key rotated crazily, blowing away the hair on the eyelashes.
The huge recoil of the holy gun was suddenly transmitted to his shoulders, and his whole arm felt numb as if it had been struck by lightning.
"Buzz--" Tinnitus took over Wolowitz's world.
Shaking his head, trying to relieve the dizziness after the mana was exhausted, Wolowitz felt as if someone had taken a small spoon out of his brain.
The clear vision becomes blurred, and a gust of wind seems to destroy the balance of the body, and even the existence of the body cannot be felt.
It wasn't until he subconsciously picked up the refreshing smelling salt and put it to his nose, and the pungent smell rushed into his brain, that he got rid of the dizzy blur.
Squinting his eyes from dizziness, Wolowitz shook his body and focused his nervous gaze on the battlefield.
Like a wheat field blown by a storm, the mercenary knights trembled all over and fell down one after another with howls.
After losing control, the war horse neighed and raised its hooves, trampling the nearby owner until his muscles and bones were broken.
The heavy armor hit the ground, and the knights in the front row screamed and fell off their horses. At this moment, they were rolling on the ground, making a continuous "bang" sound.
The knights in the rear were frightened by the sudden change and reined in their horses, but the last knights were still charging, and the entire formation was suddenly in chaos.
Did you repel them?
Unsteady and still confused, Wolowitz took a step forward.
Beside him, Jeanne, holding a battle flag, leapt out on a carrot, and the horse's hooves and Wolowitz's footsteps landed on the ground at the same time.
Hundreds of cavalry flew out from the wings of the holy gunners like blazing iron streams.
Blowed by two waves of holy wind, the mercenary knights were suddenly slowed down, and the original tight charge formation became even more chaotic.
The timing of the Holy Gun Cavalry rushing out was so timely that these mercenary knights did not even have time to adjust their posture before being charged in by the Holy Gun Cavalry.
The new recruits of the Guards couldn't help but cheer.
With the volley fired by the Holy Gun Cavalry, the fear in their hearts was gradually replaced by an inexplicable excitement.
It turns out that the invincible knights of the old days are no longer monsters that are difficult to defeat, but humans who can be defeated.
Just like them farmers.
These mercenary knights from the church tried to regroup in panic, but were defeated step by step under the constant attack of the Holy Gun Cavalry.
The mercenary knights collapsed completely under this double blow. Their horses no longer obeyed the command and turned around and fled.
Chasing them was not only Saint Jeanne waving the battle flag, but also a second round of fireballs rising from the position behind them.
Looking at the saint Jeanne galloping on the battlefield, Wolowitz felt something warm flowing through his cheeks.
He stuck out his tongue and licked it, feeling a salty taste.
Suddenly, Wolowitz suddenly understood why he was laughing.
"Sister Therese! Look, look!" Wolowitz's whisper was filled with tears, "The holy wind has given you the most just verdict!"
(End of this chapter)
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