When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 568 Today! (4k -in-)

Putting down the telescope, Horn wiped the lens that was scratched by sweat with a handkerchief and handed it to Hakuto beside him.

On the highest and steepest earth slope, His Holiness the Saint Sun stood in front of the assembled fireball crossbow, silently watching the two mercenary groups walking across the ditch and river beach.

As expected, these infantrymen chose to attack from the flank, forcing the Saviors to turn around.

They were still arranged in a 50X50 spear square, but longbowmen and Eagle Foot Bay large shield crossbowmen were added to the four corners of the square.

These large shield crossbowmen would use pedal-operated crossbows, which means that a foot pedal was installed at the front end of the crossbow arm.

When stringing the bow, you can step on the foot pedal, hang the string on your belt, or simply pull it with your arms and use your waist strength to pull the bow, so that you can shoot crossbow arrows with higher poundage.

Although it can penetrate plate armor to a certain extent, it cannot exert the same power as lead bullets, nor can it reload as quickly as a clockwork gun.

Most of these infantrymen were wearing lath armor or chain mail. From the telescope, he could see that the first three rows of these infantrymen were wearing sturdy half-plate armor.

Different from the loose phalanxes formed by the guards and sergeants, the phalanxes of the two mercenary regiments were much tighter, with sword and shield men, halberd men, and axemen having clear division of labor and responsibilities.

After all, they are veterans who have been on the battlefield for more than ten years. In terms of personal martial arts alone, they are indeed better than these new recruits of the Savior Army.

It has to be said that these infantrymen are indeed elite, and Prince Kongdai has also invested a lot of money.

It’s a pity that this battlefield is on a mound. In such a narrow battlefield, this kind of thick and large square formation is the most inappropriate for advancing.

Looking at the large square formation slowly advancing in the distance, Horn was actually a little dazed for a moment.

Ever since he came into this world, the Imperial Order and the Church have always been a huge mountain weighing on his head.

Originally he didn't want to take any responsibility, but was forced to become the Holy Grandson in order to survive.

In fact, he didn't want to be the Holy Grandson at all, but everyone forced him to do so. If he didn't, he would die.

It was not until the night of the Battle of Changqiao that he decided to die and carried everyone's hopes on his back.

But are the preaching of the gospel by military chaplains really effective? Can high salaries really translate into combat effectiveness? Can their day-and-night work and dedication really win morale and the hearts of the people?

Horn lowered his head and stroked the hilt of Xue Zhayun's sword. Have you really entrusted it to the right person?

The fate of millions of people in Qianhe Valley will be decided at this moment. All his efforts will be fulfilled and tested at this moment, today!
Just today!

Holding the Blood Cloud tightly, Horn quickly cleared his mind of distracting thoughts.

When he looked up, Horn had been forgotten, and the only one left was the confident grandson.

The sun shone directly on his face. He squinted his eyes slightly and shouted, "Pass the order. Jeanne will hold back the enemy cavalry on the high ground. According to the previous rehearsal, the center army will rotate around the right wing, and the left wing will delay the enemy."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The messenger held a small flag and waved it continuously on the mound, and the shrill whistle echoed in the corridor of the depression.

The ground was shaking, gravel was rolling down from the mounds, and cloth shoes and leather boots were stepping on the wet ground.

Amid the rustling sound of footsteps, the war monks on the right wing held the base of their spears against their shoulders and began to slowly turn.

"Hey, they're scared!"

Standing in the first row of the large square formation, Northumberk, a veteran of ten years, couldn't help but smile.

Even though they had mastered the terrifying crossbow, these soldiers were farmers after all. Once they left the chariot formation, they were as timid as mice.

Gripping the spear tightly in his hand, Northumberk licked his lips that were cracked and bleeding from smiling, and moved his shoulders.

The blood flowed onto his yellow and black teeth, looking extremely bloody.

Compared with Northumberk's hideous grin, Griffin, the commander, frowned.

The river beach and the mound were wide enough that even if the war was turned from east to north, these short-haired men could still maintain a horizontal formation of two rows of twelve squadrons.

Then their goal - to force the Saviors into chaos, shorten their formation, and weaken their wind force - would not be achieved.

The ramp and the top of the slope obviously could not accommodate a large formation of nearly 3000 people. Maintaining formation on flat ground and maintaining formation on a slope are two different concepts.

At this time, the Eagle Group's large formation had already reached a distance of 150 meters.

The lead bullet whizzed past the top of the helmet, creating a cloud of dust on the ground.

Sparks suddenly burst out from the helmet of a mercenary, and he fell to the ground with a gurgling sound in his throat.

"Fight back, fight back!"

Seeing that it was the Devil's Wind from yesterday, Griffin immediately jumped behind a large shield specially made with cowhide and iron nails.

The crossbowmen on all sides put down their huge door-plate shields, bent down, and strung their heavy crossbows.

The longbowmen pulled the bowstrings to the corners of their mouths, raised them to a forty-five-degree angle, trembled their arms and shoulders, and dense feather arrows rose like black mist.

With the sound of breaking through the air, the black fog enveloped the Savior Army on the top of the slope. The sound of clicking continued, and the arrows stuck on the door panels, shields and sandbags were still trembling.

Although there were temporary fortifications and shelters, from time to time, blood would burst out from someone's arms or thighs, and they would fall down with a scream or a groan.

"Medic, medic!"

"Here it comes! Don't move, or you won't be able to pull the arrow out."

The orderly in the back row carried a round shield on his back, bent his body, grabbed the soldiers under their arms, and dragged them to the back row with great effort.

Arrow rain and lead bullets were fired at each other from a distance. At this distance, the holy gun was inaccurate but powerful, while the bow and arrow was accurate but less powerful.

Both sides suffered losses, but none were significant.

Griffin's forehead was covered with beads of sweat as he watched the Salvation Army troops quickly pass the top of the mound. He gritted his teeth and said, "Damn it, let's do it. The 15 columns on the left take three steps forward. The ones at the back don't move. Wait until the ones in front are on the ramp before you charge forward."

Picking up a heavy iron-clad kite-shaped shield, Griffin put on iron gloves, and the servants behind him followed with flame-shaped heavy swords.

The sword is too long. It cannot be pulled out whether it is carried on the back or inserted at the waist. It can only be carried by a special person.

Northumberk took three steps forward with his spear erect, and heard Griffin's shout in his ears.

"Those who are in heavy armor, hold up your shields and stand in the front. Those who are holding halberds and spears stand in the back. When I shout, you charge at full speed and break through the enemy line. I will reward each of you... I will reward you one gold pound and fifty acres of land! For those who die, I will give double the reward!" Griffin bit his lip and roared with a bleeding heart.

The mercenaries widened their eyes, unable to believe their ears. The captain was really risking his life today.

"I'm tired of living like this. If I win, I'll be an earl." Griffin shouted with red eyes, "You did a good job, and I'll even make you a knight!"

Bounty! Knight!
Many mercenaries who frowned in disdain immediately stood at attention, and a question came from the crowd: "Is it true? Captain, you can't break your promise."

"Seriously! When we attacked Sand City, did I say that the land I was going to share was even a single acre less?" Griffin knocked the bottom of his kite-shaped shield against the ground. "If you can't pay, I'll use my wife and daughter to pay!"

"I accept your wife with pleasure, but I don't want your daughter to follow you."

A burst of laughter immediately came from the battlefield.

Griffin spat on the ground, "Stop being so rude. We are just peasants. Even with the power of the devil, we are still peasants! If we charge forward, we will be the masters!"

After hearing the news, the mercenaries who were originally planning to slack off became alert, and Northumberk couldn't help but smile.

Although Griffin was just encouraging them, Northumberk, who had not fought with the Saviors yesterday, took it seriously.

A group of farmers who gained the power of the devil... I heard them blowing so loudly yesterday, but when I saw them today, this is it?

Hiding on the mound, they could only rely on shields and crossbows to hurt people, and their shooting was not accurate at all.

Northampok made his fortune by killing farmers. He has at least eighty farmers under his command. Would he still be afraid?

At the command, although the mercenaries did not have strict discipline and rules, they had rich battlefield experience and quickly changed from a horizontal column to a vertical column.

"Charge!" Looking at the Saviors on the top of the mound, Griffin took the lead and rushed up with a shield raised.

"Charge! Victory!"

"Kill him, the son of a witch!"

"Ula——"

"Fuck that shit shoveler!"

Amidst the war cries, swear words and colloquialisms from all over the place, the mercenaries hid their heads behind kite shields and lined up in neat formations and charged up the slope.

The footsteps shook the entire mound, the gravel on the ground vibrated, and many war monks changed their expressions slightly. "Stand still, who dares to move?" Legion leader Lefey rushed to the front with a lance, and the soldiers who were slightly shaken immediately straightened up.

When Le Fei's eyes swept over them, they felt a dull pain in their thighs and buttocks, making them afraid to move.

"Look at the Black Champion's kids next door, and then look at yourselves, bastards!" Le Fei walked to the side of the team with a feather spear and shouted at the Holy Gunners, "Fire them twice."

Then, he walked to the rear and shouted to the commander of the Guards on the nearby mound: "Send two teams of 50 Holy Gunners to the next mound and fire from the flank."

"You owe me a bottle of wine." The voice of the commander of the next-door legion was swaying among the depressions and ditches, and it was actually a little hazy.

"I'll give you a booger, quick."

"I fuck you!"

Although he was cursing, the commander of the rear corps did not delay at all. The captains of the two teams of fifty men ran from the ridge between the two mounds to the other mound.

While Le Fei was still having a cordial conversation with the legion commander on the other side, the holy guns had already been fired in front.

These mercenaries were all elite veterans. Their morale and training were much higher than those of the guards. Although they were on an uphill road, their speed did not slow down at all.

"Praise the Holy Wind!"

Lead bullets like combs swept through the charging column, and with crackling sounds, a large number of people in the first three rows fell down in an instant.

The wounded soldiers lay on the side of the road, curled up and twitching in pain, covering their wounds.

But since it was a column charge, the people in the back row were actually safe, which is why Le Fei had to mobilize people to shoot from the flank.

At the back of the team, a row of feather arrows flew up in an orderly manner and landed in the battle formation of the front row of spearmen.

Amid a series of muffled groans, more than a dozen spearmen in the front row fell. Unless they were unlucky enough to be shot in the throat, they were basically difficult to kill with the protection of their armor.

These people either moved to the side to make room, or were dragged away by the orderlies, and the spearmen in the rear took over their positions.

Fifty steps, forty steps, thirty steps!

Northumberk counted his steps silently in his mind as he ran. His cheek was pierced by a lead bullet. The half-rotten face not only did not frighten him, but made him extremely angry.

"Slow down and prepare to push the spear!"

The veterans quickly slowed down their pace, changing their positions while lining up and extending their guns.

"Put down the spear!"

Northumberk laughed as he heard Griffin's command. He could already see the cowardly faces of the peasant soldiers in the front row.

They actually dared to use this kind of spear, and didn’t even place shields in the front row. They wanted to engage in hand-to-hand combat with these veterans?

it is ridiculous!

"charge!"

"Farmers, the guards are coming!" Northumberk, who was charging with his head covered, raised his head and shouted this battle cry when he cut off countless farmers' heads.

Just one roar was enough to scare those cowardly farmers away, just like today.

It's just that the farmer today was so cowardly and numb that there was not even a trace of fear on his face.

With half of his teeth exposed on one side of his cheek, Northumberk looked extremely ferocious. Compared to the silent war monks, he roared like a lion: "Die, unclean one!"

Northumberk stomped his right foot on the ground and swung the spear in his hand towards the black-robed monk.

The attack went smoothly as expected, and the spear in the farmer's hand fell loosely to the ground with a sweep.

The farmer then knelt on the ground. Was he preparing to beg for mercy?

As Northumberk sneered, he suddenly felt something was wrong, because the farmer who was kneeling on the ground in front of him suddenly lunged forward and rolled to his legs.

In an instant, a stream of warm liquid spurted out from the ankle.

Northumberk immediately felt as if he had lost all the strength in his left leg below the ankle, and he could not even stand steadily.

"Damn farmer, vile farmer!"

Shocked and angry, he tried to kick the farmer away, but was easily dodged.

At the same time, four or five spears were pushed out, aiming at Northumberk's throat, thighs, arms and other weakly protected parts like snakes and scorpions.

In the past, Northumberk would definitely have been able to dodge it.

But now, he tried his best and still let the three spears pierce through his thighs and arms.

When it was pulled out, blood gushed out like a waterfall.

"Damn it, damn it..." Northumberk staggered with a hoarse voice and tried to retreat to the back, but he fell on his back due to blood loss and loss of balance.

When he hit the ground on his back, before he could even cry out in pain, the soldier who had just been kneeling on the ground came over with a dagger in his mouth.

With a light touch on Northumberk's throat, he rolled to the feet of another mercenary.

"Farmer, farmer..." Falling on his back in a pool of blood, Northumberk twitched, and with his lifeless eyes, he watched countless legs and feet pass by.

The hairy legs and feet of countless farmers, with shit on the soles of their shoes.

The wooden shafts of spears and lances collided closely, blocking the sunlight for Northumberk, who stood pale and motionless.

Under the spears that were pushing each other, the Savior Army's leapers bit their daggers, grabbed their sabers, squatted or kneeled, and frantically chopped at the calves and even the lower abdomen of the Eagle Regiment mercenaries on the opposite side under the spears.

It was obvious that the mercenaries were the ones charging, but they were like waves hitting a dam and were pushed back.

The resilience and training of these farmers far exceeded the mercenaries' expectations.

When the front-row shield soldiers were cleared out by the holy guns, those damn leapers took advantage of their weakness of having no leg armor and harassed them crazily with their spears.

The gunners on both sides and on the oblique sides cooperated and actually forced these veterans who had experienced hundreds of battles to retreat again and again.

At this time, the sound of creaking clockwork was finally heard from the mounds on both sides, and the mercenaries who had fought with the Savior Army in the small village yesterday immediately squatted down.

The mercenaries, who were still puzzled by their companions' behavior, soon learned something.

Continuous gunfire was launched from both sides, and holy winds struck both sides of the team column. Under the dense wind, corpses rolled down the hillside one after another.

"Boss Griffin, we can't hold on any longer." Holding the flame-shaped sword, the servant shrank his head and shouted with a sad face.

The soldiers on the outside of the front row continued to disintegrate and flee to the rear from both sides.

750 of the 200 veteran mercenaries are almost down. It's a miracle that they can hold on until now. If they don't run away, I'm afraid the rest will be defeated.

Griffin's shoulder was bleeding. He looked at the follow-up troops climbing up, gritted his teeth and glanced at the holy musketeers who kept turning on both sides, and slapped his thigh fiercely: "Retreat!"

After all, there were gunners on both sides, so even if the follow-up troops arrived, they would still be shot down.

The ramp is so narrow that their troops can't deploy.

Since it is impossible to break through, the frontal attack has failed, and we can only try to sneak up from the side and launch a surprise attack.

But in the meantime, they had to let the second team go downhill first, otherwise the two teams would collide.

"Retreat, retreat, there is holy wind on both sides and we can't charge forward." Griffin waved the flag at the troops behind.

They were lined up in a narrower queue, with only 5 rows. Aren't they just waiting to be shot by the gunners?

However, these soldiers seemed to have heard nothing and saw nothing, and continued to rush forward.

"Didn't you hear me? Retreat!" Griffin covered his shoulder and yelled angrily at the captain of the team.

"Boss, it's not that we don't want to retreat." A company captain cried with a sad face, "The knights of the Imperial Order Company are behind us, killing the deserters!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Griffin felt the mound shaking as if from an earthquake. He looked up and saw a dark shadow passing by like a phantom.

Griffin almost fell to the ground due to the strong wind.

That was - hundreds of knights rushing up the mound!
Wait, Griffin blinked his eyes. How come the fat man in the front looks like Prince Condé? !

(End of this chapter)