When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 878 Collapse

Until now, there has been a clear gap in the amount of Holy Wind fired between the Holy Gunners of the Guards and those of other chapters.

Most ordinary regiments' Holy Gunners can fire six to eight shots, elite Holy Gunners can fire ten, and the Guards Holy Gunners can fire ten to twelve shots.

Of course, this is not continuous shooting, because each shot will cause mental shock, and it will take about ten seconds to recover.

But in fact, in a single-day battle, the holy power consumed by each holy musketeer would not exceed eight rounds.

That is to say, the battle would be over before every Holy Gunner fired the eighth bullet on average.

The veterans are all familiar with the fact that, before a battle, since five teams will take turns shooting, it means that the holy power will not be exhausted until the 40th round.

In most field battles and encounters, the holy musketeers were lucky enough to fire twenty rounds.

Because by that time, the knights would either retreat or rush up on their horses and switch to close combat.

Only in a defensive battle will there be a possibility of exhausting the holy power.

But this time, the border knights broke the stereotype of the holy musketeer.

At the trench less than 20 meters away, the knights leaped with all their might and clung to the edge of the V-shaped trench.

Occasionally someone would fail, either slipping and having their feet pierced by the spikes, or jumping too far onto the stakes and getting hung up.

The remaining successful knights gritted their teeth and reached out to hold the deer fence in front of them.

The whizzing lead bullets passed through their armpits, ears and even the space between their legs without affecting their movements at all.

"Hey! Hey! Oh!"

As the border knights shouted with difficulty, the heavy deer cage was actually lifted up and pushed open.

The leading knight had just stood up and roared when he was shot in the thigh by a lead bullet and fell face down into the trench.

The other knights who were about to file in through the gap in the stockade were blown in the face by a gust of holy wind at the same time.

Streams of blood spurted out of their bodies, and the knights fell to the ground one after another, starting to crawl forward without any instruction.

"Keep reloading, keep shooting!" the once dull and reserved Brune yelled, his voice almost deafening.

The battlefield is extremely noisy, how can we fight without making loud noises?

At the command of Corps Commander Brune, the Holy Gunner Turb pulled the trigger.

The sharp whistling sound pierced people's eardrums and knocked the knight who jumped seven or eight meters away from the air down.

A distance of ten meters is just a matter of a moment for the extraordinary knights, especially the border knights.

After firing this shot, Turbu did not retreat in fear, but calmly lowered his head and stuffed the dagger into the barrel of the gun.

The Vanguard Regiment of the Guards was a pioneer in war and also a pioneer in innovation. They had long ago replaced a batch of gun barrels with new ones.

These gun barrels have mithril added to them, making them much lighter than ordinary gun barrels.

Due to the lack of airtightness, gaps were left on both sides of the gun barrel. At this moment, Turbu inserted the 20-centimeter-long dagger into the gaps.

This was a new tactic created by the Vanguard Regiment, and Horn really did not provide any guidance this time.

It was thought up by the veterans themselves, and after practicing it themselves they found it to be good, so they promoted it to the entire pioneer group.

After all, with their melee combat abilities, it is really difficult for them to engage in close combat with a knight who is proficient in swordsmanship.

If you want a spear or long weapon, the weight is too heavy and difficult to carry and move.

Just stick a knife in the muzzle of the gun and it will become a pistol.

So far, only the Guards Vanguard has the strength and willingness to do so, and other regiments cannot wield such a heavy musket.

"Death or victory!"

"Despicable gunslinger, the god of death is here to reap your life!"

Supporting the breastwork with one hand and wielding the knight's sword with the other, the dusty-faced border knight swung the sword down.

The bayonet rubbed against the sword blade, splashing a streak of sparks.

The border knight who crossed the breastwork had surprise almost written on his face.

This commoner from Qianhe Valley, who only knew how to use an alchemical crossbow, actually used a strangely shaped pistol to block his attack.

This is not over yet, the bayonet knocked away the weak blade of the greatsword.

Turb shouted loudly, stomped his right foot, and used the only extraordinary martial art he knew -

"Thrust!"

Immediately, the snake-like bayonet opened its silver fangs and, leaving an afterimage, rushed straight towards the knight's neck along the center line of the chest.

As soon as the knight's feet touched the ground, the bayonet pierced into his chin from the top of the cervical ridge with a sound of twisting metal.

The bayonet rammed into the spinal cord at the back of the head, shattering it in an instant.

The knight's eyes went dark, and he fell to the ground twitching without saying a word.

"Pfft-"

“Ohh—”

"You guys, cough cough cough..."

The sounds of spear tips and guns piercing flesh rang out alternately, and border knights who flew through the air like eagles with spread wings kept crashing.

"Impossible, you guys are just a bunch of dogs who only know how to use clockwork guns..."

Even the other border knights who continued to charge widened their eyes.

In their view, since the Holy Alliance of the Thousand Valleys had expelled the nobles and abolished the chivalry system, it was bound to be inferior in close combat.

Otherwise, a super knight could obviously get the status he deserves in the empire, so why would he bother to go to the Holy League and be a soldier?

However, everything before their eyes reminded them that this group of Holy Alliance soldiers generally had the fighting power of squire knights or even square flag knights!

Could it be that the Pope has mastered some magic that can infuse people with extraordinary martial arts?

But this is just what the border knights thought.

It's just that the guardsmen generally increase one or two extraordinary martial arts to the level of squire knights or flag knights.

If it comes to a one-on-one fight, these guards are no match for the real knights.

But now it was five hundred to one hundred, with the breastwork defense and the advantage of narrow terrain.

With the accumulation of multiple forces, nearly one-third of the border knights who had underestimated their strength and were careless were killed or injured.

But the remaining sixty or seventy knights could not retreat, as the Holy Gunner was still staring at them.

"Then we have no choice but to attack!" Stenstock roared crazily, and he set an example by continuing to charge towards the breastwork.

In fact, among this group of knights who charged to their death, at least half were sent back by Horn disguised as women.

This arrangement was almost tacitly accepted by the entire Knights.

They, the knights, must either capture the first line of battle and wash away the shame, or die on the front line and also wash away the shame.

Stenstock didn't want to die, but the Knights gave him the choice of victory or death.

He actually had no choice.

After taking off his light armor and helmet, Stentok grabbed a spear on the ground, took two quick steps, and thrust the spear into the ground.

A shadow covered the heads of the guards. They looked up and saw Stentok flying over their heads.

Halfway through the leap, the spear broke with a snap, and he fell heavily to the ground on his back.

Without caring about the pain, Stentok grabbed the sword and swept it across the back of the necks of the soldiers in front of him.

Blood splattered on the hideous face, and three heads rose up, leaving only three headless corpses spurting thick blood.

"drink!"

Just as he was about to continue to improve the situation, a strong wind blew from behind.

Stentok raised his sword above his head, twisted his waist, and while dodging, the sword made a buzzing sound through the air and smashed into the man's head.

"Ding--"

The long sword collided with the saber, and cracks appeared on the saber that were visible to the naked eye.

He was actually stopped. Stenstock's brain froze for a moment. He was a Knight of the Imperial Order.

Using the strong blade of his saber in his right hand to leverage the force of the long sword, Brune pulled out the short-handled axe that was stuck beside him with his left hand, picked it up with one hand and swung it out, forcing Stenstock to retreat two steps.

The spearmen nearby reacted and immediately turned their spears to stab Stentok in the back.

After dodging seven or eight spears stabbing at him in a panic, Stenstock reached out and grabbed one. Just as he was about to pull the man over, he saw Brune coming at him with an axe in his peripheral vision.

He dodged the axe by leaning sideways, but Stentok failed to dodge the stabbing spear.

He tried his best to adjust his body, but the spearman still stabbed bloody holes in his chest, lower abdomen and collarbone.

The moment his body was unbalanced, Brune seized the opportunity.

His axe and spear chopped off half of Stentok's body from the left shoulder to the right waist, leaving only a little skin and flesh connected.

The body fell heavily to the ground, and the spearman quickly returned to his position, with thick blood flowing all over the ground.

On his deathbed, Stentok was still puzzled. He struggled to raise his head and said, "You have such strength. You are enough to be a square-flag knight or even an imperial decree in the empire. You own countless manors and properties. Why do you want to join that crazy pope?!"

Brune, who picked up the knight's sword, was stunned for a moment, as if he was really thinking.

"I have too many reasons." The long sword pierced his neck, and the blood gushed out, staining Brune's pants red. "The simplest one is to protect my home."

(End of this chapter)