Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 338: Battle of Storm's End (3)

Facing a chariot that was as tall as two people, the enemy was calm and composed, with shields, crossbows, and spears combined in a way that the Golden Company cavalry did not understand. Even the blue and white falcon flags that were everywhere in the army did not flutter in the wind, as if they were just waiting for them to fall into their trap.

The chariots leaned against the hills behind them, and more than a hundred chariots were arranged in an arc. The soldiers behind them were not holding ordinary bows and arrows, but powerful crossbows that scared the cavalry. The spears were waiting for an opportunity to move, and the cavalry would die if they advanced rashly.

"Damn it!" The Golden Group cavalrymen suddenly fell off their horses, hit directly by the crossbows and spears that attacked them in an instant. Their heads instantly turned into a bloody paste and scattered among the bushes.

"Retreat!" The cavalry commander had to give the order. After receiving the order, the mercenaries quickly turned their horses' heads. Although they suffered a setback, they did not disperse like the average army. Instead, they quickly organized themselves and retreated in an orderly manner.

The mercenary team quickly changed its position. The front team retreated to a safe distance, and the rear cavalry quickly split into two groups and went around to the hills behind the warships.

The commander tore off the solid-colored bandage on his wrist and spat on the ground. His general flag had already retreated, but in a close combat situation, no army could enforce discipline and maintain strict organization.

Chariots? He was very familiar with this kind of heavy battlefield troops that dominated the city-states of the Eastern Continent. In order to resist or guard against the rampant Dothraki cavalry, most city-states in Essos also maintained the traditional military equipment of mainly spears and shields. Chariot tactics had long been popular in the Eastern Continent.

The commander squinted his eyes, his blue pupils were like two sapphires inlaid in his eyes, the deeper they squinted, the more they seemed to sink into the azure blue lake. He turned his horse's head, and his brain calmed down after working quickly.

The mobility of chariots is far inferior to that of cavalry. Even if only a small group of cavalry goes around and attacks from behind the hillside where the enemy chariots are leaning, the chances of winning are very high.

He swung his saber, and the golden handle shone brightly in the sunlight between the leaves. "Follow the flag and go behind! Follow the flag and go behind!" He kicked his legs and the warhorse galloped, and the cavalry followed behind, stirring up clouds of dust, leaving only the sound of the whip breaking through the air lingering in their ears.

The commander put his saber on his waist. He knew well how to deal with chariots, which were difficult to turn around. But he was in the Eastern Continent at that time. He was not from Westeros and had never heard of any examples of chariot warfare in Westeros, where the knight system was deeply rooted. In his limited knowledge of mythology and history, Westeros only had the wild ancestors who ate raw meat and drank blood and the reckless knights in steel helmets and iron armor, who were kings on the land west of the Narrow Sea.

He secretly suppressed his uneasiness in his heart. The familiar touch of his palm and the handle of the knife gave him a lot of sense of security, which made him regain confidence in himself.

The enemy did not seem to expect that their cavalry would turn around so quickly. The opposing battle flags were fluttering in the air and moving quickly, with the flags intertwined and looking a little chaotic.

Humph, the leader of the Golden Group sneered, did the enemy think that their chariot formation was placed by the long river? They regarded the hillside behind them as a support for the chariots, which was too much to underestimate the mobility of the cavalry.

He was full of confidence, wielding his saber and chopping off the branches that passed by.

The enemy will surely be defeated, he said to himself.

The Golden Group cavalry bypassed the jungle, turned into an open area, and headed straight behind the hillside.

A huge shadow was cast at the corner of the hillside. The bright sunlight shone directly on the golden light from the spears of the Golden Corps cavalry, and suddenly pierced the commander's pupils as he was looking around. A sourness came out of his eyeballs, and he simply blinked hard a few times, and the empty vision at the corner became temporarily blind.

In just a moment, the horse's legs suddenly stepped on empty air, and several ropes flew into the air from the grass.

The commander suddenly lost weight, his eyes widened, and he grabbed the reins, barely avoiding being caught by the trap.

What's going on! He screamed in his heart that something was wrong. The warhorse under him neighed and stamped its strong legs, making the grass on the ground a mess.

He turned his head and saw that he and his mount had barely avoided the trap, but the Golden Group cavalry behind him were visibly falling off their horses. The commander swung his saber downwards, "clang!", the sound of steel colliding resounded, and he felt the palm holding the handle being pulled up and down by an invisible force, and he felt a tingling sensation.

"Landropes?" The commander looked back and saw soldiers pulling the reins to rescue the horses and the fallen cavalrymen from the suddenly collapsed pit. The sound of groans and wails was endless.

"Pit?" He took a deep breath, turned his horse's head in anticipation, and shouted, "Prepare to meet the enemy!"

The Golden Corps cavalry hurriedly straightened their faces, some straightened their helmets, some picked up their sabers and swords, and some looked around on horseback. The wailing and groaning that had just filled the entire army disappeared in a short period of time. The entire army was silent for a moment, and only the panting of people and the snorting of horses could be heard in the air.

The commander gripped his saber tightly, looking vigilantly at the corner that was beyond his sight.

"Where are the people?" someone muttered.

The team was silent again for a moment. The cavalrymen saw only ordinary objects such as trees and rocks, and did not see a single person.

The gravel on the ground that no one noticed trembled slightly, startling the surrounding black ants, who froze in place, their antennae sucking the air nervously, trying to smell out the danger. The original green jungle, with a little unnoticed yellow sand in the brown soil, was already the edge of the hills, and the towering red mountains were lying far away with their backs raised, unwilling to even give the most indifferent eyes.

The Golden Group's cavalry galloped out and turned the corner. The dark shadows of the hillside loomed over them, as if the stranger had put a black cloak on them.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" A few screams made the Golden Corps cavalry commander's brows twisted into knots. He held his saber upright in front of him, his eyes fixed on the corner.

There was silence for a long time.

Just when the commander was about to throw himself into the unknown, he suddenly heard the sound of horse hooves.

"Dang! Daang! Daang!" He opened his eyes wide, with a gleam of hope in them.

Back? Or an enemy?

Neither. It was the light cavalry's mount, which was running back breathlessly as if escaping from the enemy.

When his followers looked forward, they saw several baskets on the horses' backs, filled with several large heads. They were the Golden Group's light cavalry who had just pioneered the way.

"This group of savages! Bloodthirsty! Barbarians! Savages! Savages! Savages!" The commander jumped out with a "swoosh", and his saber slid across the sky, drawing several arcs.

"Boom!" Regardless of the wounded who had just fallen into the trap and were injured, the commander's followers could only put aside the people and things around them and followed.

The first thing that entered the commander's field of vision was not the enemy or the trap, but the mountains piled up like a fortress.

He could never have imagined that the jungle, which was green just now, had turned into a vast expanse of yellow earth.

"This..." Before he could react, the deafening sound of drums had already begun.

"kill!!!"

The commander of the Golden Group saw a war scene that he had never seen in his life: a group of ponies, as big as the pack sheep that once existed in the legendary Red Wasteland, carrying countless lightly equipped cavalrymen, and flying countless family flags or battle flags that he had never seen or heard of. They swooped down from the high loess slope that no warhorse could ever climb, and headed straight for him.

The arrow arrives before the horse.

He opened his eyes wide, and the last thing he saw was a bloody arrow piercing his pupil.

(End of this chapter)