When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1041 Cavalry and Infantry
Three hundred Wang Xian cavalrymen drew their lances and charged in unison toward the Holy Alliance ranks.

They didn't like to launch cone-shaped charges like the Knights of Leia.

Even if there were three hundred people, they were arranged in a 100x3 wall-riding formation, with their thighs less than half a meter apart, and charged in an orderly fashion.

This tactic is their specialty. If Wang Xian's entire cavalry regiment were to be present, they could even cover a battlefield width of three to five hundred meters.

The sound of iron hooves shook the ground, and the knights pulled down their armor, their roars seeming to have an added reverberation.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"

"Eh!"

"For the King!"

"And gold pounds!"

"One hundred meters!"

The knight commander gripped the reins tightly with his iron glove, his knuckles turning white beneath the glove.

There was no movement in the Holy Alliance ranks; the war monks didn't even have expressions, only the wind rustling the hems of their black and red robes.

"Eighty meters!"

Gale held his breath; the cavalryman could already see the indifferent face of the holy gunner.

Suddenly, the first row of musketeers knelt down in unison, the second row stepped forward in a bow stance, revealing the third row with their muskets raised.

"Oh, shit!" The knight commander immediately realized it was a three-row firing formation, "prone position."

The knights immediately lowered their heads, hunched their backs, and bent over like shrimp.

The dark muzzle of the gun was aimed at the three hundred Wang Xian cavalrymen charging forward.

"Three-row firing!"

"Praise be to the holy wind!"

The gunfire exploded like popping beans, and a dense barrage of lead bullets instantly enveloped the cavalry ranks.

The twenty-odd knights at the forefront were struck as if by an invisible giant hammer, falling off their horses in a chaotic cacophony of shouts and neighing.

"Don't be afraid, they reload slowly. Charge forward and use your bows and spears to rout the front ranks!" The knight commander hastily took the longbow from the side of his saddle.

The Holy Alliance army opposite them parted smoothly in the first three ranks, and even before they reached the back ranks, they could hear:
"Load!"

"Three-row firing—fire!"

Another volley of fire felled more cavalrymen, their blood splattering and staining the wetlands at the edge of the reeds.

"Huh?" The knight commander, whose helmet sparked from being scraped by lead pellets, let out a strange cry as he raised his head.

This frequency is different from what Count Kazi said; it's almost as fast as archery!

"Three-row firing—fire!"

The knight commander's cold sweat trickled down his temples.

Something is wrong!
Nine out of ten things are wrong!
"Praise be to the holy wind!"

The third round, no, the fourth round!

Before the cavalry could charge, the Holy Alliance's clockwork musketeers had already fired four volleys in three columns.

Before those final fifty meters, just before the cavalrymen realized that the casualty rate had reached the critical point of 15%, the number jumped again.

Wang Xian's cavalry were completely dumbfounded.

The surviving knights reined in their horses and began to turn to either side, clinging to their backs in bewilderment as the warhorses pawed restlessly.

Something is wrong!
Gail also sensed that something was wrong.

He had seen the clockwork gun with his own eyes and even calculated its rate of fire; it could fire at most two shots per minute.

But the Holy Alliance's rate of fire, and it's a volley of three columns firing simultaneously from the front, middle and rear?

No, don't they need to reload? Where do they get so much magic power?

Cavalry warfare is a game of willpower, and also a game of confidence.

When knights suddenly feel they have the advantage, they will charge with all their might; when they feel the situation is not right, they will run away with all their might.

However, in terms of bravery and fighting spirit, Leia and Fran were no different, and Wang Xian's cavalry were even better trained.

Compared to the Knights of Leia, the Knights of the Royal Law of Frans lacked willpower the most.

Back then, the imperial edicts of Prince Condé had inspired those who dared to follow their charismatic commanders in a desperate charge. If you replaced the imperial edict knights with royal knights, you'd be lucky if a third survived halfway through the charge.

This was also Lorenzo's biggest headache: the Franco people were too unconventional and flexible, and the town culture brought about by the rise of towns was deeply ingrained in their bones.

Legions in different regions often recruit soldiers from the local area.

If it is a place with a strong culture of new aristocracy and merchants, it is the economic core and loyal territory of France.

The soldiers recruited are always slippery, always wanting to fight when things are going well, and even haggling before the battle begins.

However, if the price is agreed upon, the competition can be extremely fierce.

As for those agricultural territories in the inland areas, they were often the domains of the old nobility.

The knights and soldiers in this area are honest, brave in tough battles, and somewhat rigid, but their strengths outweigh their weaknesses.

The problem is that these places are full of powerful local lords, and the soldiers in the legion always obey their own masters.

The strength of the Franco-François was six or seven times that of the Holy Alliance, yet they dared not attack the Holy Alliance as they had attacked Leia, and that was the problem.

These royal cavalrymen were all elite French troops, and their wealth, pensions, and salaries were very high.

But after death, one can no longer enjoy these happy moments.

As the lead bullets rained down, I mentally assessed the possibility of continuing the charge.

They were surprised to find that if they continued to charge, about a third of them would probably be killed before they even entered the range of the heavy arrows.

That's such a bad deal.

It's unclear which knight turned his horse around first, but soon after, the rout spread like a plague.

The knights cleverly ran in circles to get back, but then they started chasing each other because wind-up cannons were emerging from the bushes.

Many knights crashed into their own infantry ranks, shattering the carefully formed formation.

As for retaliating with a clockwork cannon, that's even more impossible.

Orichalcos manufacturing is relatively simple; with enough alchemists and steel, it's quite easy to build a few clockwork cannons.

As for the dwarven special steel for the clockwork mechanism, flanges certainly cannot manufacture the same, but they do have their own special steel, it's just that it's a bit more expensive.

The problem is that the clockwork cannon needs to be deployed; otherwise, it will fire randomly and miss no one. After firing three shots, without water power to wind it up, it becomes nothing but scrap metal.

Meanwhile, the Holy Alliance army hidden in the reeds had made preparations well in advance, setting up water-powered winding mechanisms along the riverbank.

Then came the roar of artillery shells whistling through the air, shattering the previously orderly formation.

The Franz musketeers tried to retaliate, but they immediately realized that the Holy Alliance's firing rate and frequency were abnormally high.

This firing rate is actually related to the rotation of troops and the reloading speed; the French musketeers' recoil-fire may indeed not be as fast as that of the Holy Alliance.

But it wasn't to the point that when they fired two shots, the other side had already fired four or even five.

Faced with such a clear disparity in skill, the gunners immediately chose to flee.

Given this obvious disadvantage, it would be better to escape to the rear camp, settle down, and then come out to fight again than to stay put and fight to the death.

"Don't run!" Gale trembled with rage, pulling out the "Military Regulations" from his pocket and waving it around. "Article Fifty-Six of the Regulations! Desertion in the face of battle..."

The surging crowd ignored him completely, pushing him to the ground like a flood.

Muddy water poured into his boots, and he struggled to get up, only to see an even more absurd scene.

From the flank of the Holy Alliance's infantry formation, nearly a hundred dwarf horses, mules, and donkeys appeared out of nowhere, carrying Holy Gunners, and followed the path along the edge of the reed marshes.

Gail's mind went blank for a moment, and she finally realized—

No wonder they arrived so quickly!

They didn't rely on their own two legs; all one thousand of them used mules and horses for transportation.

They were not infantrymen, but fast-moving mounted infantrymen.

“It’s over…” He was helped onto the horse and watched the Holy Alliance’s black and red procession get closer and closer, but he suddenly gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"Am I injured?" Gale asked the male servant beside her.

The male servant looked him up and down, but shook his head.

Gail picked up the dagger and plunged it into her thigh, startling the servant: "Master, what happened?"

Pressing his hand against his bleeding wound, Gale was in too much pain to speak. He pointed in a direction with his riding crop: "Go! To the Stone Fortress!"

(End of this chapter)