When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#330 - Battle of Moncruz (I)

“Enemy attack, enemy attack, from the southeast!”

“Black Hat Second Legion, assemble at the blue flag area!”

A cacophony of footsteps erupted as the battle monks, previously lounging lazily under the awning, quickly gathered.

Laborers and villagers watched in bewilderment as black-clad soldiers surged towards the fortifications from all directions, standing rooted to the spot.

“What are you waiting for? Take cover!” A lame veteran hobbled towards the defensive line, not forgetting to shout at the villagers.

Only then did they awaken as if from a dream, fleeing in terror towards their homes or the woods.

The battle monks of the Black Hat Army formed neat ranks, jogging into position.

Various colored flags were planted in different areas of the fortifications, allowing the battle monks to accurately reach their assigned defensive zones.

They picked up their holy rifles and ammunition belts, climbed onto the elevated sandbags, and began checking the condition of their rifles.

Since the protrusion of the gun emplacement was solid, the riflemen ran along the two-meter-high walls to reach the three-meter-high gun emplacements.

As the whistles and bugle calls grew more urgent, rows of holy rifles protruded from the firing ports of the first-level stone wall, followed by the second and third levels.

The riflemen stared tensely ahead, not even daring to wipe the sweat that slid from their foreheads into their eyes.

At the gaps in the stone wall, sappers quickly plugged them with sandbags, chevaux de frise, and sharpened wooden stakes, heading towards the second-level platform under the lead of the quartermaster sergeant.

Pikemen and shield bearers stood nervously in tight formation behind the chevaux de frise, pointing their spears diagonally forward.

On the watchtower at the top of the castle stood the three legion commanders, Zhuerdan, Keleman, and Momuli, their faces still smeared with mud and dust.

Zhuerdan leaned on the railing, squinting at the dust and smoke in the southeast.

Momuli closed one eye, holding a spyglass as thick as two fingers, his expression grave.

A cavalry force was advancing towards the Moncrus Manor, the dust kicked up by their hooves blotting out the sky.

In the spyglass, these knights numbered about four hundred, the proportion of transcendent knights and squires unclear.

But based on Zhuerdan's previous experience, it was about a half-and-half split, meaning there were roughly 150-200 transcendent knights.

Standing behind Momuli, Keleman kept poking him in the rear with his scabbard, “My turn to look, my turn to look!”

Handing the spyglass to Keleman, Momuli smiled at Zhuerdan, “Didn't come the day before yesterday, didn't come yesterday, what are they coming for today when the fortress is almost finished?”

“Don't know, don't care.” Zhuerdan waved his hand, “Let them fight theirs, we'll fight ours, we just need to hold the fortress.”

…………

Standing on a small earthen slope, Hai'erwen stared blankly at the three-story fortress before him: “Alex Moncrus! This is what you call ruins?”

Alex seemed not to hear, still muttering to himself: “Impossible, it was ruins five days ago, impossible! Where's my big pile of ruins?”

“Son of a bitch!” Hai'erwen lashed Alex across the back with his riding crop, making him stagger, “Your ruins are three stories high?”

“I, I don't know, where are my ruins? They were here before!”

Hai'erwen rubbed his temples, feeling the wound on his stomach begin to throb faintly again.

In the previous battle with Jeanne, he dressed relatively plainly, was defeated too quickly, and was not recognized as the commander, eventually being rescued by several close-following knights.

Despite being granted rewards by Lord Nidsar, Hai'erwen stubbornly wanted to regain his self-esteem from the Black Hat Army, so he applied to the front line.

He had only arrived at the first battle line three days ago, when Alex reported that the Black Hat Army was gathering here.

Such a large plain, and they dared to set up camp here? Wasn't that courting death?

At the time, the Black Hat Army only had 500 or 600 men, and Hai'erwen was preparing to launch a surprise attack, first taking a small bite out of one of their companies (an Imperial company had 500 men).

But the scouting cavalry reported seeing a large number of soldiers heading this way.

Hai'erwen was hesitant at the time, should he eat these 500 men first? Or wait until they arrived, pull up the infantry from the rear, and swallow their 2,000 men?

It was Alex who strongly advised Hai'erwen, saying that the Moncrus Manor had no defensible terrain nearby, and the only castle had long been dilapidated and turned into ruins.

So Hai'erwen decided to wait and bring up the infantry from the rear.

He never expected that he thought Alex would give him a hard one, but instead, he pulled a big turd.

Although the small fortress in front of him was simple, it was very different from ruins!

Seeming to think of a possibility, Hai'erwen's expression turned unfriendly: “I remember your ancestors had Cush blood? Could you be a spy for the short hairs?!”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Alex waved his hands in fright, almost creating phantom hand movements, “Believe me, what I said is true…”

Alex was almost crying, his eyes comparing the three-story fortress in front of him with the castle in his memory, even thinking he had taken the wrong road or was hallucinating.

But after carefully examining the walls, he seemed to grab a life-saving straw: “Your Excellency, look, that's not a stone wall!

That's not a stone wall, stone walls are all gray-green, or at least black, this yellowish-brown color is obviously an earthen wall, they're fooling us!”

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After hearing Alex's statement, Hai'erwen was stunned: “That's true…”

Building a fort with rammed earth in three days, although embarrassing, is not difficult.

Thinking of this possibility, Hai'erwen slightly lowered his suspicion.

“Do they think a few earthen walls can stop me?” Hai'erwen said contemptuously, “First a probing charge, see what they're made of.”

…………

“They're coming!” Zhuerdan's expression was grave.

Luo Lang looked straight ahead from the gun emplacement, hundreds of knights suddenly began to accelerate, charging towards the fortress.

Their bodies rising and falling with the running of their warhorses, their speed changing from a slow walk to a quick trot.

They were not close to the fortress, but Luo Lang could still hear the thunderous sound of hooves.

In the sweltering wind, warhorses neighed, their manes and tails fluttering in the wind, matted together with sweat.

The knights leaned close to their horses' backs, their legs clamped tightly around their bellies, to reduce the risk of being hit by arrows and bullets.

They hadn't even reached the range of the holy rifles, but they were truly afraid of being shot by them.

To this end, they even picked up the shields they once despised, considered weapons for the weak.

As they got closer and closer to the redoubt, the cavalrymen began to adjust their breathing and heartbeats, a sense of tension they had never experienced when charging peasant rebels.

Closer, closer, they could vaguely see the figures on this strange fortress.

“Riflemen, prepare!” Grasping the lance tightly in his hand, Luo Lang, as the company commander, shouted loudly.

In an instant, the sound of “creak, creak” winding filled the fortress, the faces of many timid cavalrymen changed drastically, and they immediately began to slow their horses.

Only the bravest knights dared to grit their teeth, continuing to lie on their horses, changing from a trot to a run, launching an assault on the loose earthen walls.

“Aim!”

The sound of gears turning stopped, the air above the fortress was deathly silent, only the increasingly clear sound of the cavalry's hooves.

Heavily swinging the lance down, pointing at the knights, Luo Lang roared:

“Fire!”