When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#368 - Battle of Black Mountain (XI)

The warhorse restlessly pawed at the ground, the cold of the ice seeping through its horseshoes, making it extremely uncomfortable.

Nidusal caressed its mane with pity, this mixed-breed horse from the desert, whose father was Nidusal's first warhorse.

It was only a pity that in a battle with the Frankish mercenaries, that most valiant warhorse he had ever seen died under the greatsword of a mercenary servant of the country.

And now this warhorse would accompany him on one of the three most triumphant charges of his life.

Even Nidusal had to admit that these rebels before him had some skill.

Based on the current situation, he could accurately judge that if they continued to fight, the best-case scenario would be a tie, and the worst-case scenario would be a defeat.

The eastern side was highland, making it difficult to attack, and there were also the Kush knights, a group of old and slippery veterans who would drag their feet.

Although it looked like a weak point, it was so obviously weak that it lost its element of surprise.

Nidusal's battlefield creed was to never do what your enemy wants you to do.

With years of experience dominating the battlefield, Nidusal quickly realized that the enemy's right flank was the breakthrough point.

It only had car fortress construction in the front, while the sides and rear were plains between puddles and swamps, so the Salvation Army naturally would not take much defense.

The only problem was how to cross the puddles to attack the right flank.

For an Imperial Earl, this was a problem.

But for a tribal knight who grew up in the Flesh King's Court, this was not a problem.

Pulling out the wizard slaves who had been imprisoned for more than five years, Nidusal threatened them with death and lured them with freedom, successfully obtaining their help.

He had Zeraken constantly attack in the front to attract the attention of the Salvation Army's front.

In the woodlands and swamps, these wizards followed one another, using turn mud into stone and frost spells to pave a smooth path for Nidusal.

A smooth path to victory.

At his side, the last batch of hundreds of squire knights were walking over the ice and hardened soil.

Beside their horses' hooves, more than a dozen wizards, their bodies drenched in sweat, had ferocious expressions on their faces, with heavy chains around their necks, wrists, and ankles.

These Black Serpent Bay wizards, old and young, were wearing thin robes, and behind each of them was a Nigosak monitoring with a javelin.

"Are all the people here?"

"The last twenty are coming, the ice is a bit slippery." As soon as the Nigosak finished speaking, he saw the last twenty knights walk past quickly.

"Now everyone is here."

As the last knight's horse hoof stepped onto solid ground, the warriors collectively slumped to the ground.

"Form up, prepare to charge!"

"Yes, sir."

"Sir..." A wizard with effort stood up, his bean sprout-like body trying to support such heavy shackles, "The thing you promised?"

"Do you think I would break my word?" Nidusal took out a key from his bosom, "It can unlock the shackles on your necks and make you feel better.

If we are defeated, you will still need to maintain these magical tricks to help us get back, that's what completes the contract."

Nidusal's second battlefield creed was to always leave himself a way out.

As for whether he would break his word, he naturally would not break his word.

If this battle could be won, what would it matter to let these wizards go?

If this battle was lost, the wizard slaves he brought would probably have to be packed up and left to the rebels, and they would naturally gain their freedom at that time.

It was just that these wizards had helped him before, and if they fell into the hands of the rebels, Nidusal would find it difficult to comment on what the outcome would be.

But that was not a question Nidusal should consider.

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

Although Nidusal had long since converted to Misella, at this time, he couldn't help but recite the prayer to the Eternal Lord as he had in his childhood.

"You have no God outside!"

When he lowered his head, all of his former cunning and treachery disappeared, leaving only ferocity and cruelty.

Nidusal pointed the battle flag at the front line of Jeshka's infantry: "Charge!"

The whip was waved, and the desert mixed-breed horse let out a roar-like neigh, the scorching sun shone on the domed helmet, as if returning to his hometown - the barren desert, the wasteland of the empire.

"Wuwuwu——"

Nidusal heard the rebels' nervous bugle call, but what was the use of that?

He could see the eye-patched commander cursing while quickly directing the army to turn from facing away to facing forward.

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

"Javelins up, prepare!" His pupils shrank sharply, and Nidusal seemed to establish 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 halfway at most, and were currently facing him in a column formation.

The first row of holy gunners were kneeling on one knee, while the second row of holy gunners were bent down, aiming the dark muzzles at the oncoming Nigosaks.

Not a bad handling, reducing the impact surface of the projection, but that's all.

Let's see who is faster.

"Seventy yards!"

"Throw!"

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Nidusal could feel his muscles supporting his skin, tightly attached to the scalding arm armor.

Under the acceleration of the warhorse, three hundred javelins rose into the sky like inverted rain, and then cut through the air, rushing straight at the Salvation Army.

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

But the javelins were much faster than their charge, they fell into the ranks of the Salvation Army with a sharp whistling sound.

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

Dozens of war monks fell on their backs, and thick, slippery blood slid down the javelin shafts from their chests or backs.

They desperately held the gun pole, preventing their bodies from being torn again.

"Get out of the way, don't block the view." Pushing away the war monks blocking in front of him, Jeshka looked at these good lads he had trained bit by bit, his eyes full of anger.

But he did not show a bit of angry look: "Holy gun counterattack, Barnaby column turns into line formation!"

Under the captain's shout and feather spear beat, the Salvation Army's holy gunners reacted quickly.

After the familiar slogan, scream and thunder sounds were intertwined, the lead bullets whistled away, facing the oncoming squire knights.

In a clanging sound, at least twenty of the densely rushing squire knights were hit, and thirty were tripped.

Warhorses neighed and fell to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust, screams rose and fell.

As the squire knights fell, the Sixth Black Hat Legion of Barnaby finally completed the turn.

They uniformly reorganized and blocked in front of the squire knights, the second wave of lead bullets shoot out, and dozens of squire knights were killed or injured again.

As expected, more than three hundred squire knights collapsed on the spot, they toward scattered.

"Fortunately, nothing went wrong." Barnaby looked at those leaving squire knights and sighed in relief, but just as he sighed in relief, he felt a huge shadow covering his vision.

The sand-yellow giant eagle, more than half a man tall, suddenly pounced on his face, Barnaby only screamed, and an eyeball was picked up into the sky by the sand sculpture.

"Damn it, someone shoot it down." Jeshka shot an arrow at the giant eagle in the sky furiously and said a word, "Hold on, wait for our cavalry to arrive!"

The crowd shrugged, under the low-level monks and knights' rebuke, the middle army and the left and right wings simultaneously launched infantry began to attack.

As long as the right wing opened a gap, then it was Nidusal's most familiar oblique strike tactic.

"Come on, come on." Nidusal's rough face showed a manic smile, "See who is the bravest person in this world!"

The distance between the two sides was only the last thirty yards.

"Throw!"

Losing the obstruction of the squire knights in front, the javelin in Nidusal's hand was thrown out, humming fast running.

"Barnaby, be careful!"

" crouch!"

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

The moment Barnaby died, the Sixth Black Hat Legion that had just formed up was immediately torn apart.