: One shot is accurate

When the other party's last boat left the river bank, Zhao Fubo waved at Muke from where he was standing.

"Prepare, let it go!"

Muke faithfully performed his duties. As the little red flag fell in his hand, his loud voice also spread throughout the artillery team.

Although it was a volley, the report of the observer of the crossbows had been aiming at their target for a long time. However, this time, it was different from the cover type shooting. Instead, one shot, one shot was carried out indirectly and accurately according to the position of the observer's report.

As the Muke red flag fell, the first wave of shells was released.

"Hey, probably, why don't these shells be like this? The previous shells..."

Manfred asked Zhao Fubo curiously. He had participated in several night attacks, but some artillery shells with extremely long flight distances would fly in the air with flames. So why didn't these artillery shells react at all now?

"The distance is different, and the shells used are different!"

Zhao Fubo's eyes kept leaving the telescope and explained to him that Manfred had probably gotten used to it, and at this time, his telescope did not drop.

The shells fell on the river surface, and the bombs that did not hit exploded white water columns on the river surface, which was a spectacular view. However, when the observers on the watchtower shouted for correction of the value, the situation on the river surface became different.

A large ball of fireballs rose from the ship hit. Whether the heavily armored cavalry or his war horses were lifted into the river while the fireball exploded. The cavalry in armor had no chance to show their heads on the water, and were dragged into the depths of the river by heavy armor.

However, the rowing infantry were slightly better luck. If they could take off their helmets in time and take off their chain mail in time, they might have a chance to survive. However, as the second wave of shells fell, more and more shells and more accurate shells kept falling from the sky.

"God..."

"Save me..."

Accompanied by sharp screams, a layer of blood floated on the clear river water. People and war horses hit by shells made long neighs. When the shells were on the river surface during the day, dense ships exerted their power, the horror it brought to the extreme.

Even the vibration in the river water made people on the river embankment feel the slight trembling in the violent vibration.

At this time, not only Bishop Francis was stunned by such a scene, but the general at the ferry across the river was also shocked by such massacre. At this time, his conclusion had been completely overturned by the cruel reality. Looking at the cavalry in his hand, the river water lifted up by the shells fell on the water, and it almost immediately sank. This cruelty was an unbearable torture for an officer.

His hands hit the refusal horse in front of him, and then turned around and ran to his war horse, sending such orders to the few hundred cavalry who had crossed the river.

"These bastards, the cavalry are ready!"

It is impossible not to say that the heavy cavalry in Europe, especially those knights, still had enough courage. Even when facing the god of death, they dared to put down their faces, lower their heads, and attack with their own spears. Even if they were alone, they dared to challenge a large army. This is not stupidity, it is just a knightly demeanor that the knights abide by, and the external manifestation of the battlefield.

Especially in the face of this current situation, the cavalry's charge may stop the opponent's attack. Then, so many people on the river who cannot fight back and who are helplessly struggling can get on the shore and survive.

"charge……"

The cavalrymen turned their backs and pointed their spears forward. On the plains of early autumn, they were going to carry out the most heroic action of their lives. However, facing the blow of the flying swallow iii type crossbow, their feat became completely useless.

Rows of shells fell into the formation they planned to charge, but only a few hundred cavalrymen were lined up in formation at this time, but only a thin line. The soil that exploded from the 60mm shells easily rose between their formations like the fingers stretched out from under the ground by the God of Death.

One by one, the knights wearing good armor made by Milan were lifted up by the air waves, and the prefabricated fragments whistled and made their armor "jingle". No armor could stop the fragments that had exceeded the speed of sound after the explosion.

The knights fell off their majestic war horses, and the rifles in their hands were thrown high. The violent explosion turned the rifles into pieces of rotten wood.

"Peng!"

The body of the vanguard commander officer was lifted up by the airflow and fell heavily to the ground. His life, from the tiny wounds on his body, was accompanied by boiling blood, like the streams.

At this time, he saw some ball-loaded stone bullets passing through the sky, which meant that the stone thrower on the other side had fired and was trying his best to support their battle. Although he was lying underground, he knew in his heart that these stone bullets would never hit the enemy that far away, he still felt a little relieved.

"My God, these demons are not something we can deal with. I hope Bishop Francis can know these things and get his help from God? God bless Milan...!"

With this thought, the sky was in his eyes, which penetrated through the gap on his face armor, became more and more dim and darker. As life passed, the sky was darker and darker. Those who believed in God knew that it was time to go to heaven, and a cruel and peaceful smile hung on the corner of their mouths.

As a small group of cavalry charges at the ferry, they were directly destroyed by artillery fire, the entire infantry and archers who had already crossed the river could only stare at the cruel scene. Some clever people were looking around at this time, looking for opportunities to escape. They didn't know when this cruel massacre would fall on their heads.

At this time, they looked at the river bank with their eyes terrified, and the last few wooden rafts there turned into pieces under the accurate shelling. The soldiers holding the wood or the fragments of the wooden boat were desperately calling for help. However, the people on the other side could not take out a small boat to rescue them.

This made the infantry and archers who had crossed the river despair, knowing that because of the fierce artillery fire, they had completely lost the opportunity to retreat.

As all the ships on the river were destroyed, a long cloth spread out between the watchtowers of the camp opposite, with some words written on it. Those who knew the words could not read them helplessly.
Chapter completed!