An infantry squadron retreated back, pressing them, and the orcs who were chasing them immediately swooped over. The squadron retreated in front of them like water seeping into the sand, towards the gap between the battle lines on both sides. They passed the ballistae, and the gunners turned around together.
"They retreat!" an orc shouted. His companions immediately echoed in unison.
"Kill all the human dogs!"
The orc warriors and their soldiers are together, executing the tactics they are accustomed to - pressing the entire army, with the berserker as the leader, making a central breakthrough, and then just chasing the defeated enemy. Once the enemy's battle line is torn apart, morale will
Ruhong's warriors expanded the breach to both wings and defeated the enemy completely.
The orc soldiers swarmed forward, and suddenly a bright human wall blocked the way. The squadrons of Beyelan behind them launched a counterattack with swords and short guns, knocking down many of the pursuers. When the berserkers rushed forward, the squadrons were like water again.
Generally spread out and retreat to the gaps between the squadrons further behind.
The layers of Beyelan soldiers were thin and fragile, and they retreated to the rear after the slightest contact. However, they did not disperse, covering each other alternately, and took turns to reorganize behind the battle line to form a new line.
General Modres looked at his army in the battle formation, turned to his adjutant and said: "Look, red wine can certainly penetrate white paper, but can it still penetrate after thirty or forty layers?"
The well-disciplined Bijland heavy infantry carried out the commander's orders meticulously.
They held their positions on both wings. The berserkers smashed the central front, but could not break through the entire defense line in a short time. The infantry of the Ninth Legion in the center maintained their formation and began to slowly retreat. It seemed that they could be pushed down with just a little more force.
The clan alliance has never been able to penetrate the defense line of Beyelan's army, but only pushed the central front line back. While the front lines on both wings remained motionless, the straight front line was gradually pulled into an arc with two wings protruding from the depression in the middle.
Bjelan's reserve troops were sent to the front line one after another to fill the weak spots. The orc warriors found that they kept advancing and the enemy kept retreating, but this Bjerlan army showed no signs of collapse.
They can only send more berserkers to replace those who died, went mad or were exhausted in previous battles.
Gradually, the berserker warriors in front and behind began to lose control due to anxiety and the long battle, killing the enemy and their own people indiscriminately. The constantly advancing front also became stagnant.
The clear sky was silent, and the wind had also calmed down, as if it did not dare to damage the beautiful scenery after the rain; water drops still fell occasionally, but they had fallen straight down. The sun hung high in the sky, and then disappeared into a narrow and long dark cloud.
Here, the fighting and shouting of the battle subsided.
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After a few minutes, the sun broke through the edge of the dark clouds and appeared in the sky again. Everything shone brightly. As if in response to this bright light, the tens of thousands of soldiers entangled on the battlefield heard the thunder rolling on the ground.
In the spotless clear air, under the bright sunlight, a silver wall appeared behind the clan alliance. Many shadows the size of sesame seeds were running away in all directions.
The advancing orcs stopped one after another.
They saw the usually unruly and ferocious warg cavalry running across the grass in despair, whimpering and escaping behind like wild dogs with broken legs.
Then, the wall moved.
"Stop and watch!" came the command from the general in front.
"Turn right and walk slowly!" Then another command came.
Cavalrymen wearing breastplates and blue and red uniforms ride on black, brown-red, and blue-gray horses. They move forward following the flags fluttering in the wind, stop and turn at the command of the officer, or line up at intervals. Sometimes they line up.
You can hear the even rhythmic sound of horses' hooves and the clatter of spurs.
"Lancers, line up front!"
3,000 cavalrymen from 24 squadrons gathered together, the hussars and dragoons got out of the way, and the 320 lancer forwards raised their lances like a forest and lined up in a front half a mile wide.
The small flag on the spear moved in the wind.
The elite lancers with silver breastplates were in front, followed by the ranks of hussars and dragoons with sabers on their shoulders; the military police and horse artillery also joined in, coming to the wilderness and the west of the battlefield, behind the first line of lancers.
Stopping, facing the dense infantry lines and square formations on the wide battlefield.
All squadrons except the Praetorian Cavalry joined the charge.
The cavalry group advanced peacefully along the gentle slope, passing over the corpses of the wolf cavalry that had just been washed away. The horses began to sweat, and the cavalry's faces were red.
Griffith was in the first row of the battle line, and like everyone in this army, his familiar and selfless enthusiasm and indomitable pride burst out.
He was convinced that the powerful transcendent was just an insignificant grain of sand in front of this wall, trembling with the hooves of the horse and palpitating under the lance.
The cavalry general and his chief centurion held up the eagle banner in the golden ring and shouted the battle cry as they passed by the front of the riding wall.
Before the eagle flag approached, each squadron was silent and motionless, as if it were an inanimate object; as soon as the eagle flag came close to them, the squadrons became active, noisy, and the eagle flag.
The shouts of the officers and soldiers under the banner merged.
The shouts lasted for a long time, which made people happy and encouraging. The cheers got louder and stronger, and finally merged into a shout that shook the mountains.
The general raised his sword and pointed toward the curved battle formation in front of everyone.
A wave-like impact is about to come.
The orcs stopped fighting and heard the sound of the three thousand horses getting louder and louder. They heard the alternating and neat sound of the horse's hooves galloping on the ground, the friction of armor, the clash of swords and a rough and strong breathing. Horror
After the silence of the people, suddenly a long row of silver lances and steel swords appeared on the wall. Under the swaying iron helmets and flags, all the cavalry crossed the battlefield.
Three thousand people shouted in unison like the earth was shattering:
"Byeland——
"Long live!"
…
The leaders of the clan alliance looked at the rolling silver iron wall with their mouths open. The time to reach the embrace of the ancestors was counting down by the seconds.
They hurriedly pushed the warriors and soldiers to spread out towards the right wing.
"The spear is in front, the bow and arrow are behind.
"Three salvos!"
The legs of all the clan alliance warriors were as heavy as lead. They watched the grand cavalry formation, holding lances and sabers, marching into the wind amidst banners and bugles. Groups of orcs began to flee sparsely.
The dense columns of cavalry moved in unison, like a person meandering and stretching, with fierce and orderly momentum. Like an indestructible sword, they penetrated deep into the plains where corpses were lying, disappeared in the smoke, and then crossed the smoke and appeared at the other end of the wilderness, always dense.
, moved closer to each other, followed each other closely, and passed through the arrows that rushed toward them like dark clouds. They were neat, brave, and calm, and made a deafening rumble of hoofbeats.
Among the lances in the forest, there was a knight with a silver breastplate holding a bloody lance high, wings flying behind his back, and his swift and sharp heroic posture was like an extraordinary saint. Just facing him directly set off waves of whirlpool panic in his heart.
It's over. All the warriors and cowards who faced the charge exclaimed in their hearts.
The charging cavalry formation began to accelerate, launching an overwhelming all-out charge.
We are finished——! The orc commanders let out their final shouts and roars, shouting battle slogans:
"Warriors, the ancestral spirits are embracing us, for..."
"ah--!"
The sound of the wall riders was astonishing. The battle formation was collided head-on by the wall riders. The shield wall was shattered and the spears were broken, making a loud roar like waves crashing on the shore. Hundreds of thousands of people flew backwards amidst the raging cavalry and the intensive sound of bone cracking.
The cavalry rushed through the crowd, and the crackling and breaking sounds under the horses' hooves were even more frightening than the summer rain. The orc warriors were so frightened that the thick front line collapsed in front of the wall like an ant nest washed by the flood.
Come.
Griffith raised his blood spines and charged at the enemy in front. The moment he rushed into the crowd, the air seemed to be still, and even the sound froze.
A moment later, dense explosions roared in the ears. The continuous sound was like stepping into the bushes. A berserker came against the trend in the crowd, roaring and charging towards Griffith. The sharp knight
The gun penetrated the open mouth and tore open the back of the neck. The severed head was lifted up and flew behind Griffith's face.
One by one, burly figures were knocked out, or rolled under the horses' hooves. The thick and endless crowd of people rolled like waves, with densely packed heads rising and falling one after another.
The rolling tide cleared away in the blink of an eye, with scores of broken soldiers fleeing in panic in front. Countless bodies huddled on the ground tiredly, wailing one after another. The assault of the Storm Squadron broke through the defense line of a brigade. The lances were broken.
Halfway through, the cavalrymen drew their sabers and chased the scurrying enemies and hacked at them.
Griffith looked back and found that a quarter was missing. The missing men fell off their horses and fell into the melee, or got lost in the rolling tide of rout.
"Come closer to me!" Griffith raised his lance high, and the purple-red blood thorns immediately attracted the attention of the whole team, who reorganized their formation around him.
Half of the people were silent, and the other half were chattering about who was defeated and who was killed, with expressions of excitement or joy on their faces.
"Quiet!" Griffith ignored the soldiers, "Level with me! Desai, blow the trumpet."
On the battlefield of fierce fighting, Erza would not turn back to look for her fallen comrades, and neither would Griffith. He saw a large group of soldiers gathered near a few warriors and a mountain monster, and many capable trolls threw spears.
Hands were among them. They stood firm and stood firm in the face of the counterattack of the Ninth Army.
Such a determined enemy is the priority target to attack when breaking the formation, and is much more important than chasing down defeated troops.
There were broken troops everywhere. Some of the thousands of clan alliance soldiers who were defeated by a round of assault fled to the rear, while others gathered in this rocky position. Other cavalry squadrons also discovered this group of stubborn enemies and turned around to attack.
impact.
A tall troll stood out from the crowd. He carried six throwing spears on his back and was holding one in his hand. Fire surrounded the blades of the spears, lighting up the tips of the spears. He raised his hand, and a bright light flashed, and a man led the team.
The attacking knight was stabbed from the mouth by a spear and penetrated from the back of the head. Under the huge impact, his head exploded. Almost at the same time as the headless corpse fell under the horse, there were six more loud sounds.
There was a sound and six cavalrymen were killed.
Either a transcendent or a hero! Griffith clamped his legs and raised his lance towards the group of enemies.
"Attack with me!"
The bugle sounded, and the squadron whirled with Griffith's lance.
Cavalry and infantry from all directions rushed towards the remaining soldiers. Trolls and orcs imitated their leaders and threw spears at the cavalry. However, the cavalry attacked too fast and rushed in front of them in a blink of an eye.
The armored cavalry bumped into them hard, knocking them upside down and spitting out their broken internal organs from their mouths.
A turbulent wall rushed through. The orcs and trolls who were exposed to the outside were knocked around like fallen leaves in the autumn wind. They were all wiped out almost as soon as they came into contact. The troll warriors behind and those who had lost their horse speed
The cavalry were fighting together, and there were desperate curses and shouts everywhere.
The troll warrior who threw the spear had no weapons at his disposal, and his companions around him had been trampled into flesh. He led a few people around a military flag. He grabbed two battle axes in his hand, like a whirlwind
Rushing towards him, Griffith didn't wait for the troll to jump and strike, then stabbed him in the chest with a gun, pinning him to the ground.
…
At nearly two o'clock in the afternoon, the clan alliance's counterattack and defensive line were shaken. The entire army was oppressed by Beyelan's long-range firepower and began to retreat slowly.
The corpses of more than 10,000 orcs, trolls and orcs were abandoned on the battlefield, and more fled in all directions. The cavalry chased them all the way to the rear positions, and did not retreat until they encountered horse resistance and trenches. But the battle was still going on.
Before it was over, Warlord Wulong was still guarding the road leading to Rum Fortress with half of his army.
Beyelan's army began to gather and advance steadily, preparing to smash the enemy's last line of defense with artillery and trebuchets.
Soldiers scattered across the battlefield dragged firewood and dry branches and set up temporary sheds, chatting and laughing happily. Some soldiers were sitting next to the campfire, burning dry shirts and footcloths, or gathering around rice cookers and
The cook was mending his leather boots, looking longingly at the steaming cauldron, asking from time to time how long it would take for the bread and soup to be heated.
The Storm Squadron also received some liqueur and honey. The soldiers lined up and came to Lieutenant Lean. The lieutenant held the keg and poured wine and honey into the lids of the military kettles that were placed on hand. Everyone looked pious.
Put the military water bottle to your mouth, drink it in one gulp, then wipe your mouth with your sleeve, stand aside with a cheerful expression, and see if there can be a second round. Everyone's faces are very calm, as if they are in a calm afternoon
It's like having afternoon tea.
Griffith took off his helmet and wiped the sweat from his head. Commanding this thing is very useful, but it is too depressing. If this continues, becoming like a count will be just around the corner.
He scratched his head and observed the battlefield.
The army has occupied the battlefield of fierce fighting, and the cavalry has regrouped. In the far southeast, the shadow of an army can be seen from a distance, stopping motionless in the distance of the field of vision.
Whose army was that? Griffith thought for a moment and felt that it didn’t look like any other army, so he turned around and said to everyone:
"I saw a bunch of black figures over there, like an army. Ace, what do you see over there?"
The young armored cavalryman looked at it with his binoculars doubtfully and replied: "It must be Duke Meyer's army. The road in that direction is close to his fortress."
Everyone stood up one after another to study the pile of "black shadows", and several said: "They are some teams taking a break."
Most people said, "Those are trees."
Griffith wanted to see if Krista was safe, but the shadow to the southeast also made him uneasy.
"Ace, Desai, you two go there and do some reconnaissance."