I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 97 Chris's Sniper Battle (Part )

"Opening fire at the enemy so far away!?"

When the crackling sound of gunfire was heard, Captain Rachel, who was turning back to scold the soldiers and asking them to maintain their formation, suddenly turned back and looked at the tiny flashes of fire and the white clouds of smoke in front of him.

Captain Rachel estimated the distance between the enemy and us, and he was immediately surprised.

"They are almost seven hundred steps away from me. If they open fire now, who are they trying to hit?"

In fact, things developed just as Captain Rachel had expected. He heard the obvious sound of lead bullets hitting the ground and splashing in the open space ahead.

Then he looked back at the soldiers behind him. There was some commotion in their neat formation, but no one fell down, and no one cried out in pain or injury.

It was obvious that the enemy's wave of fire was a projectile method, and the angle was too low, so all the bullets hit the front of their own team.

However, Captain Rachel only smiled for a short while before his expression quickly turned serious. He was not very happy that the enemy had missed their target.

Because while laughing, Captain Rachel suddenly thought of a question.

If I continue to lead my men forward, it seems that we will soon reach the place where the enemy's lead bullets just fell.

The longest range of his longbowmen was three hundred steps, and even if they were equipped with light arrows, they would not reach the limit of four hundred and fifty steps.

However, the enemy's current fire could easily reach a distance of 600 steps. The reason why it failed to hit him was simply because his infantry was now about 680 steps away, a difference of 80 steps.

This was the main reason why the enemy's first volley missed.

The huge difference in shooting range between the enemy and us meant that after the enemy launched the second wave of volleys, even if Captain Rachel forced his archers to fight back, the arrows they shot would not be able to reach the enemy.

Damn, this isn't looking good!

"Failed?"

Isaac on the other side also noticed this, but he was not panicked. He turned around and growled in a low voice.

"Reload!"

The hunters immediately began to reload their ammunition in a panic. It was their first time in actual combat, so they were inevitably nervous, which led to distorted reloading movements.

Isaac understood this, so he took out his pocket watch and looked at it, planning to leave twenty seconds of preparation time for the hunters.

As Jacques' fingers tore a third tear at the edge of the paper-wrapped bullet, scraps of paper stuck to his sweaty palm.

The clever young hunter could usually complete the reloading of ammunition within twelve seconds during the training grounds, for which he was praised by the instructor and awarded three pieces of frosted candy.

At this moment, his cleaning rod missed the target twice, and it took the third attempt to penetrate the barrel, pushing the paper-wrapped lead bullet to the very bottom of the barrel.

As the cleaning rod was hammered, the black mist raised by the gunpowder leakage reminded the young hunter of the thick and dark eyebrows of the sister next door when she was weaving a belt for him.

Jacques thought of her eyebrows, of her lips, of the reward of three pieces of frosting.

That square candy was so sweet. I ate one piece myself, took two pieces home during the holidays, gave one piece to my sister next door, and got a kiss in return. I gave the last piece to my mother, and got a smile in return.

This candy is so good. If I perform well in this battle, can I get it?

"Raise your guns, action number six!!!"

A roar from the front interrupted Jacques's recollections. He hastily raised his loaded musket and, following Centurion Isaac's command, tilted the muzzle upward. Jacques had performed this action nearly ten thousand times, the technique etched deeply into his muscles. It was a breeze. Even though the flintlock was heavier than his family's axe, he could hold it steady, the muzzle motionless.

"Fire!"

The moment the flint struck, Jacques instinctively closed his eyes. This rookie mistake made his stomach twist with embarrassment, but fortunately the choking white smoke obscured his burning cheeks.

At the same time, unsteady gunshots were heard from both sides.

……

When the enemy fired the second wave of volleys in the distance, Captain Rachel still stood straight and sat on his beloved horse at a slow trot, so that the soldiers behind him could see the heroic figure of their leader.

The rider following closely behind the horse held high the exclusive battle flag of the Rachel Company. It fluttered in the night wind, faintly visible in the light of the torch behind the flag bearer, making a rustling sound.

Captain Rachel was unusually nervous at the moment. He heard the sound of bullets falling and knew that his team was covered by the enemy's lead bullet shooting area.

"what……"

Screams were heard from behind the front line. Captain Rachel turned around immediately and saw that his company's formation was in great chaos.

Within the range of the torches, he could see several people falling and an equal number shouting, obviously injured, but because of the protection of the chain mail, the injuries were not fatal for the time being.

The dead fell, and the wounded stumbled, unable to keep up with their companions, which naturally disrupted the order of the formation.

Captain Rachel felt a chill in his heart when he saw this.

Something is wrong. There's something wrong with the power of the enemy's musket projectiles, and their accuracy is abnormally high!
"Speed ​​up..."

Captain Rachel shouted, and he knocked hard on the horse's belly, causing the mount to speed up from a slow walk to a fast walk.

The standard-bearer hurriedly trotted to catch up, leading the soldiers behind him to take a step as well. The friction and collision between the chain mail rings made a rattling sound, which matched the rhythmic footsteps of the soldiers, giving off a solemn and murderous aura of the army.

"Load!"

Isaac's command was compressed into a whisper. This was his second shout, but this time, Jacques, who was standing at the front of the skirmish formation, calmed down.

The loading process suddenly became extremely clear, the bitter taste of biting through the paper-wrapped bullet, the hourglass-like sound when the gunpowder was poured into the barrel, and the vibration of the brass hoop at the bottom of the cleaning rod rubbing against the rifling.

And all this was completed in just twelve seconds.

Jacques raised the flintlock rifle and placed it against his shoulder. The warm butt of the rifle made him feel strangely at ease.

He didn't know whether his first two shots had achieved any results, but Jacques felt that he would definitely hit someone with his third shot. He should now give his best performance so that the officer in front could see it.

In the fifteenth second, Isaac put down the pocket watch in his hand and looked back at the hunters. Most of them had already shouldered their guns, and only a few were still frantically fiddling with the cleaning rods.

Isaac memorized the positions of those people in the queue. Although the lack of one or two people in the volley was not a big deal, it did not mean that they could escape the punishment after the battle.

"Fire!"

"Clap clap clap..."

(End of this chapter)