When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1087 Burning Wind (Part 2) (Combined Chapter)

The sky had somehow turned orange-red, and the dry foehn wind, carrying flames, licked at the mountains on both sides.

Thick smoke danced on the weeds and thorns, licking at the sparse trees on the mountainside.

Rabbits and field mice hidden in the mountain burst out of their burrows and scattered in all directions, nimbly dodging horses' hooves and disappearing among the cliffs.

The crackling sound of burning carried on the wind, like a dragon grinding its teeth.

The scorching heatwave hit the knights' faces like the heavenly fire descending on the apocalypse.

Amidst the smoke and flames, a rain of black and gray butterflies fell on everyone's shoulders.

"How did the fire get here?" Tom's voice was trembling with tears, his teeth chattering.

“We’ve all been fooled.” Kennard stared at the fire, his expression unreadable, neither grave nor angry.

They must have been deceived from the beginning; the wildfire couldn't have started so quickly.

Even if it caught fire, it would take time for the flames to reach him; he should have been able to notice it earlier.

The reason they only became aware of the fire when it was already right in front of them was because they had previously burned down the house, which misled Kennard and the others.

Kennard was instructed to mistake the smoke from the early wildfires for the smoke from previously burning houses that had not yet dissipated.

At that very moment, it is estimated that the enemy had already prepared stacks of firewood and oil, and began to set the mountains ablaze.

Seeing the approaching line of fire, the warhorses neighed, and the knights on their backs retreated one after another.

Kennard turned to look down the slope and he understood why Jeanne had chosen to form her ranks on the plain instead of in the narrow valley.

Firstly, the streams and trenches can be used as natural firebreaks.

Secondly, it could trap Kennard and his cavalry on the hilltop, in the valley that was about to be engulfed by fire.

Without a doubt, these must be the Guards of Longbow Fortress.

As for how they got here, just think about the Owen City thugs who burned down the house earlier.

These Christian guards were most likely using Owen City thugs as cover.

Not only did they use a large-scale investigation campaign to deceive the spies around Longbow Fortress, but they also used the troops of Wonyu City to cover up their own whereabouts.

The city of Wonyu is no match for the army of the Kingdom of Leia. Since it cannot defeat them, it must demonstrate its strength. Therefore, Jeanne must take the initiative to attack.

Jeanne can guarantee that she will not be defeated by the vanguard of the city of Owen, so she should show that she cannot.

If it were the Holy Alliance army, the city's garrison would never leave the city.

So what is "impossible" in the eyes of Leia's army? It must be the local army and the mercenaries.

Therefore, they had to disguise themselves, blend in with the soldiers of Owen City, and pretend to be just a small elite force.

After luring out the elite cavalry of Schleswig Castle, burning the houses was a smokescreen; the real killing blows were the Earl, wildfire, and the Fenrir wind.

A cheer came from behind the chariot formation. Kennard looked up and saw Jeanne jump onto the roof of the chariot and raise the black and red flag of the Holy Alliance high.

The flag pointed to the sky, challenging Kennard to a duel.

Sunlight shone through the thick smoke onto her, making her look like an angel descending from a religious painting.

The wind in the valley grew increasingly scorching, carrying sparks that brushed past Kennard's temples and jawline.

Several knights had already tried to rush back through the valley behind them, but they had already turned back.

Their faces were blackened, their hair and beards were charred and curled, and their eyes were bloodshot.

Some of them even dismounted hastily, removed their shoulder armor, and exposed their burned and mangled skin.

They poured all the water out of the kettle, and instantly a row of small blisters filled with pus appeared.

Is there a passageway behind us?

"No." Tom, his nostrils blackened and covered in soot, returned. "The fire is spreading too fast, and the wind is blowing directly at us. We can't get past it at all."

"So that means there's only one way?"

Kennard didn't even wait for Tom's reply before spurring his horse to the front again, looking down at the Longbow Fortress Guards who were standing in full battle array.

After Leia's defeat, he carefully studied the relevant battle reports of the Holy Alliance.

He also knew how strong the Holy Alliance's soldiers were and how cunning their generals were.

In the end, he was caught off guard and fell into a trap.

He watched the knights' restless chatter and listened to the crackling of wood in the fire, his lips pressed into a straight line beneath his helmet.

"Tom, lead a hundred men in one charge." Kennard stared at the enemy general of the Holy Alliance from afar. "Watch out for gaps in their wagon formation, and once you find an opening, charge in."

Tom straightened up abruptly, his iron gauntlet slamming heavily onto his breastplate: "Yes, sir!"

He leaped onto a black horse, pointing his lance directly at the wagon formation: "If we don't break through the wagon formation, none of us will survive. Anyone with guts, charge with me!"

More than a hundred knights responded and gathered together, forming a ten-row arrowhead formation. They then poured down like a waterfall of steel, heading straight for the dam formed by the chariot formation.

This time, the gunners behind the vehicle formation, having made mistakes and been punished by their instructors, were now familiar with the battlefield environment.

They stopped being flustered and gradually found their rhythm. In the first, second, and third rounds, they were almost always shooting at the most standard distance.

Although some people still close their eyes when firing, or cause lead bullets to fly into the air due to trembling, it is much better than before.

After three rounds of shooting, at least twenty riders were injured or fell off their horses due to the narrowness of the ramp.

Tom took the lead and was about to reach the front of the car formation.

The front of the Huszc truck suddenly opened its side panels, revealing the dark muzzle of the cannon at the rear.

Those were four six-pound wind-up shotguns.

"A wind-up cannon?!" Tom's shout caught in his throat. "Ouch..."

Before he could react, Jeanne's voice drifted over on the wind: "Release!"

The four shotguns simultaneously spewed out fine iron pellets, the deafening roar causing the flames to hum.

The barrage of lead bullets mixed with iron shot pressed down like a dark cloud, instantly turning the knights at the forefront into sieves, with blood and bone fragments splattering everywhere.

Tom felt a sharp pain in his left arm. Looking down, he saw that the chainmail at the junction of his forearm was broken, and the flesh was filled with iron filings.

"Don't retreat, keep charging! They'll be reloading for a long time!"

Despite the pain, Tom roared and charged forward, only to be knocked off balance by a cavalryman turning around in front of him.

Before the lingering force of the shotgun blast had dissipated, the knights fell from their horses one after another, like wheat swept by a whirlwind.

By the time Tom reached the front of the wagon formation, less than forty of the hundred or so riders remained.

"Halberd bearers, advance!" Jeanne's voice rang out again.

A dense array of halberds rose between the chariots, heading straight for the charging Leia knights.

These elite border knights were best at fighting on the plains, but now they were helpless against the chariot formation.

They tried to cleave the halberds with their swords, but were instead struck on the head or chest by flail.

During this time, there were also surprise attacks with clockwork guns, causing warhorses to fall with mournful cries, throwing their riders off their backs.

Tom chopped down two spears, but was hit on the head by the flail. As he was feeling dizzy and lightheaded, he heard the creaking sound of the flail being cocked again.

He instinctively lay down on the horse's back, but the warhorse beneath him let out a mournful howl and collapsed to its knees.

He rolled away in a disheveled state, his longsword severing a halberd handle, but he was hit in the back by a lead bullet, and half of his body immediately went numb.

"Sir Tom has fallen!" a knight cried out, his voice trembling with grief.

"Withdraw!" Kennard's calm command pierced through the smoke and dust.

The surviving knights immediately scrambled backward, while the shotguns behind the wagons were being reloaded.

Behind me, the fire crackled more and more frequently; in front of me, the clockwork made a "creaking" sound as it turned.

A fine layer of sweat appeared on Kennard's forehead.

Tom was dragged up the hill by two knights. As soon as he looked up, he saw the firelight growing brighter and brighter, and his teeth started grinding together.

"Commander, we can't charge head-on!" Tom spat out a mouthful of blood. "Their artillery is too powerful!"

"That sounds nice, but we can't get past them on the flanks. Can you even fly?" another knight beside him couldn't help but shout.

But when Kennard turned his head and his eyes flashed with a sinister light, the knight immediately shut his mouth.

Kennard didn't speak, he just stared intently at the four shotguns.

"Come again!"

Soon, he organized two more attacks.

Spread out as far as possible to avoid being hit by a barrage of lead bullets.

In a single column charge, they simply used manpower to exchange for distance and time.

But the result was the same. The knights were either scattered by shotgun shells or knocked back by lead bullets halfway through their charge.

The few who managed to reach the front of the chariot formation were also blocked by halberds and flail.

The pile of corpses and wailing echoed higher and higher in front of the caravan, the stench of blood mixed with the smell of burning flesh making one want to vomit.

The fire line was getting closer and closer, and the knights were feeling a sharp, stabbing pain in their backs.

"What are you standing there for?" A bearded knight suddenly ripped off his helmet and charged toward the rock wall on the right with bloodshot eyes. "Instead of dying here, let's take a gamble and attack their flank from the side."

It was a nearly vertical steep slope with only a few shallow cracks in the rock face, so steep that even a ibex couldn't stand steadily.

But the bearded knight, driven to desperation, abruptly turned his horse around and charged down the steep slope.

The first few steps were fine; after all, it was a fine warhorse from the Kush steppe, and it could still run for a while.

But as the speed increased, the horse's hooves could no longer keep up with the descent.

With a few sharp cracking sounds, the warhorse's forelegs broke off, and it tumbled down the hillside with a mournful cry.

As for the knight, he had already untied the stirrups, braced himself on the saddle, and jumped up, only to be thrown off.

When he landed, he rolled more than a dozen times on the ground, and when he stood up, he was covered in blood.

His vision blurred, his limbs felt weak, and he didn't know how many bones were broken.

According to the original plan, he was supposed to attack the chariot formation.

Only then did he realize that his horse was gone.

Meanwhile, the Christian Guard remained hidden behind the wagon formation, showing no intention of attacking; in other words—

He staggered to his feet, removed his cumbersome helmet and armor, and, leaning on his sword sheath, limped wildly along the stream.

Jeanne stood on the roof of the car, watching quietly as the knight disappeared around the corner, without ordering a pursuit.

Drum stamped his feet in frustration: "Your Excellency, are you just going to let him go like this?"

“He can’t go far.” Jeanne’s gaze fell back to the top of the hill. “There are still dozens of our cavalry outside. Besides, if he doesn’t run, how will the rest of us run?”

The knight's successful escape was like a crack, instantly shattering the fighting spirit of the remaining knights.

Many riders hesitated for a moment, then followed his example and rushed up the steep slope.

The rest simply turned their horses around and charged toward the fire at the mouth of the valley.

They would rather die than fall into the hands of the Christian Guard; though the fire was dangerous, at least there was a glimmer of hope.

As for the reason, they know it themselves.

Others who fall into the hands of the Holy Alliance can survive a public trial, but they will never be able to.

Looking at the other knights scattering and fleeing, Kennard chuckled self-deprecatingly, but did not stop them.

"Sir, let's get out of here!" Tom crawled over, dragging his injured arm. "If we don't leave now, it'll be too late!"

Kennard looked at the silver flag fluttering behind the car formation and suddenly smiled.

His laughter, laced with blood and foam, made his helmet tremble: "You can go now, Tom. I have things to do."

“Sir, you are still young, why bother?” Tom said as if he were meeting Kennard for the first time.

"This is what the Kingdom of Leia is like now." Kennard's voice suddenly lowered, as if he were talking to himself. "Do you know what the rest of the Empire calls us? The Sick Man of the North!"

Leia used to be known as the land of honorable knights, but what about now?

"But what does this have to do with you?"

Kennard shook his head: "The Holy Alliance was able to win because everyone in Thousand River Valley knew that they had a connection with the Holy Alliance, while the Leia people did not."

This was Leia's first battle in suppressing the rebels, and one of the three main generals surrendered?
That label of "sick man" is truly going to be pinned on our heads, and we can't get it off.

He raised his hand and wiped his face, the blood from the iron gauntlet smearing all over his face.

"I understand the infighting among those nobles, but someone always has to do something unwise."

Just like that grandson of the saint, if he had fled to Black Snake Bay back then, would the Holy Alliance still exist today?

All I know is that my father told me Leia was the land of honored knights, and I don't want to tell my children that Leia was the land of the sick.

He suddenly raised his longsword, the blade gleaming blindingly in the firelight: "I would rather die here than surrender!"
Today, I will fight my way out for you all!

Tom, a squire, cried out and tried to step forward, but Kennard kicked him away.

Kennard turned his horse around and roared at the few hundred remaining knights, "Those who are willing to charge with me, draw your swords! Those who are not, leave now, and I won't blame you!"

The knights looked at each other, and finally, about fifty of them raised their longswords.

There was no fear on their faces, only a kind of numb resolve.

"Alright!" Kennard's roar echoed through the mountains. "Charge with me!"

The charging formation of fifty-odd riders was laughably frail, trembling as they charged towards the chariot formation.

This time, Jeanne did not order the cannons to fire; she simply watched them charge.

"Bang bang bang!"

The gunners' fire was no longer dense, but it became more accurate.

The riders at the forefront cried out in agony as they fell from their horses one after another, the air thick with the thud of lead bullets piercing bodies and the stench of blood.

Lying prone on the horse's back, Kennard felt a sharp pain simultaneously shooting through his chest, right arm, and thigh, as if a red-hot iron had been branded onto his skin.

He grunted, but tightened the reins even more.

"Faster! Faster!" Kennard roared, his chestnut warhorse already at its limit, yet still staggering forward.

One by one, the knights around him fell, until in the end, he was left alone on horseback.

His shoulder was shattered by lead bullets, and at least three of his ribs were broken, with white bones protruding from his armor and pressing against the saddle.

Kennard's thoughts gradually became blurred, blood kept gushing from his mouth, and he could no longer see anything clearly.

But he didn't stop, and kept urging his warhorse forward.

Just then, he saw the female knight in silver armor behind the chariot formation.

Jeanne was looking at him, her eyes showing neither mockery nor pity, but only a calm that was almost admiration.

"Now!" Kennard suddenly straightened up, drew his longbow, and shot an arrow at Jeanne.

But at that moment, two streaks of electricity suddenly appeared on Jeanne's fingertips, one in front and one behind.

With two sharp cracks, a bolt of lightning blocked the flying arrow, while another, like a long snake, shot out and struck Kennard's warhorse.

The chestnut warhorse let out a mournful neigh, its two front hooves instantly turning black, and it collapsed heavily to the ground.

Kennard was thrown out, tumbled several times in the air, and crashed heavily to the ground.

He felt a piercing pain in his legs, and when he looked down, he saw that his knees were twisted at an odd angle.

Behind the vehicle formation, the shotguns were being loaded, and the busy figures of the gunners swayed in the firelight.

Kennard rolled over and got up. He couldn't walk anymore, so he could only use one hand to pull himself up and crawl forward little by little.

"For the King! Charge!"

The nearest shotgun was only ten paces away, and with the gunners' command, loading was already complete.

Jeanne didn't bother to ask him if he had surrendered; she simply watched him quietly.

Kennard reached out his right hand, trying to grab something, but only managed to scoop up a handful of scalding sand.

He stared at the cold cannon barrel, then suddenly mustered his last bit of strength, straightened up, drew his sword, and pointed it at it.

"boom!"

With a dull thud, Kennard's body fell heavily to the ground and never rose again.

His eyes were wide open, his face pressed against the scorching ground, and there seemed to be a slight smile on his lips.

Jeanne, who was behind the line of cars, was silent for a moment, then suddenly raised her hand and took off her helmet.

Her long hair was scattered in the wind as she looked at the spot where Kennard had fallen and whispered, "Give him a proper burial."

Kennard's death was like the last straw, completely crushing the morale of the Knights of Leia.

The remaining hundreds of knights either threw down their weapons and knelt on the ground, or took off their armor and rolled down the steep slope, or simply sat there and waited to be captured.

Jeanne jumped off the chariot and stepped onto the scorching ground.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone through the thick smoke, staining the valley with an eerie blood-red hue.

She looked up at the sky, then glanced towards the valley entrance, and suddenly ordered: "Second Corps, clear the battlefield and treat the wounded."

"Drum, come with me, we're going to take Square Wolf's Castle!"

(End of this chapter)