Chapter 310: Chapter 4: Teutonic Order, Charge!

Today is a good day.

The skies are clear and bright.

Turriados stands on the hillside, clad in shimmering scale armor and wearing an orange cloak, a longsword at his waist, overlooking the Crusader camp below.

Behind him, nearly four hundred light and heavy cavalry, mostly in silk robes with chain armor, scale, Zha Armor over them, and wearing face-covering chain armor helmets.

In the shadow of the hillside, over two thousand light and heavy infantry summoned are already in formation.

Time was tight, and his ability to muster so many to aid in battle was thanks to Isaac’s heroic feat of riding the Black Dragon to defeat the Empire Fleet.

The Guard Captain muttered softly, “Sir, they should have eaten by now. Why does it seem like there’s no movement?”

This small hill was still too far from the Crusader camp, making it difficult to see what was actually happening inside the military camp.

If the hill was close enough, Losa wouldn’t have camped here.

Because it would likely lead the enemy to seize the high ground and attack.

Turriados pondered for a moment, then ordered, “Send out a scout to the opposite camp to probe the Franks’ situation.”

“I understand.”

The Guard Captain immediately chose a cavalryman who typically conflicted with him.

The cavalryman’s expression changed slightly, but he didn’t dare disobey, urging his horse to gallop towards the Crusader camp.

“I am Turriados’ envoy…”

He approached slightly, then reined in his mount and shouted loudly, “Do not shoot arrows, I have important military matters to discuss with your Count.”

Whoosh——

As soon as he finished speaking.

A sharp arrow pierced into his eye socket.

The cavalryman fell from the horse.

On the hillside, Turriados was not alarmed but rather pleased, clenching his fist and waving it excitedly: “They ate, even if they took turns eating breakfast, at least thirty percent of the enemy soldiers won’t be able to fight!”

The logic is simple.

Shooting the “messenger” he sent out meant the Crusaders had discovered the poisoning.

Turriados didn’t use any highly poisonous substance, but rather a slow-acting laxative that would be devastating once effective.

The taste is mild and harmless to the body, even considered a remedy for constipation.

Other than some local herbalists from Cyprus, it’s almost indistinguishable.

“All troops prepare!”

Turriados shouted at the top of his voice.

Drums resounded.

The mournful sound of the horn caused the soldiers hidden in the shadow of the hillside to come forward, revealing their forms.

They formed a formation and slowly moved down the hillside, approaching the enemy camp.

The commotion here was so large.

Yet the Crusader camp was so quiet it seemed as if everyone was dead, causing a vague sense of unease in Turriados.

“Could the enemy have fled?”

The Guard Captain swiftly responded, “Impossible, my scouts are constantly watching them unless they burrowed underground like mice!”

Turriados grew suspicious, but whatever calculations were made, his side held the advantage.

“Advance!”

The infantry phalanx slowly approached.

Turriados’ cavalry archers, together with the light infantry, moved to the forefront and lit fiery arrows, ready to launch a shooting on the Crusader camp.

On the wooden walls of the Crusader camp, suddenly twenty Woodland Archers leapt out.

Endowed with Group Bloodfall, they easily drew 100-pound heavy bows, aiming at the cavalry archers at the forefront of the enemy.

Boom——

The bowstrings produced a resounding crack.

The heavy arrows penetrated the enemy’s scale armor easily.

Some arrows even passed through the horse’s belly, piercing through wooden saddles, and into the back of the knights riding.

Humans shrieked, and horses neighed.

These twenty arrows were almost without fail.

It is conceivable, if the Woodland Archers were fully mobilized, reaching a light infantry phalanx of one hundred and twenty-five.

Just this volley would crush the enemy’s charging momentum.

Boom——

The wooden wall was broken by ropes pulled by the Crusader soldiers behind, revealing the orderly lined-up Crusader Cavalry, wearing face-covering armor.

All dressed in white cross cloaks.

Their mounts adorned in Saracen-style horse armor.

Man and horse fully armored, presenting an impending iron torrent.

The Double-headed Eagle and white cross flags flew, causing each Greek soldier to suddenly tense.

The Crusader Knights fought alongside their attendants, their formation tight, with neighboring knees even able to touch each other.

Not deployed in Losa’s usual wedge formation but lined up in two rows of formation.

The advantage of this, of course, is greater impact power, and more lethal against the enemy.

But the downside is the potential for significant losses on their side.

“Stand tall, knights favored by Holy Mother Mary and Saint Lazarus.”

The Count, wearing a black cloak with a dragon head depicted, raised the knight’s sword high as he moved to the forefront.

No rousing speech.

Losa sped across the front of the formation, the hilt of the knight’s sword colliding with the knights’ and attendants’ lances, emitting a clanging sound.

This is the tradition of this era.

To collide with the commander’s weapon means receiving Losa’s, the legendary god-blessed individual’s, fortune.

After one round, he stopped, took the lance from Prajna, his sword tip pointed forward.

“In the name of the Heavenly Father.”

“Crush them!”

The cries suddenly erupted.

“Crush them.”

Amidst the mountains and seas-like shouts, the originally stationary Knights began moving their steeds at a casual and leisurely pace, heading forth at a trot.

This was to gather momentum.

Losa, Prajna, and Jeanne charged at the forefront of the squad.

The closer they got to the enemy, the faster the Knights’ speed; the closed helmets prevented them from seeing the rain of arrows and the forest of long spears ahead.

All they could hear were the crackling sounds by their ears, which was the sound of stones and arrows hitting targets.

Faster!

Even faster!

Break into the enemy ranks!

Trample these treacherous Greeks!

The Knights breathed heavily, with their warhorses accelerating with increasing speed beneath them.

It was when they could clearly see the startled and panicked faces of the enemy in front of them.

Swoosh—

They leveled their lances, with fleur-de-lis fluttering in the air, and the entire cavalry charged thunderously into the enemy’s formation like a swift torrent.

Cries of pain.

Sounds of metal clashing.

Screams of warhorses.

Resounded endlessly.

Turriados’s army felt as if they were swept into a storm.

In their sight, everywhere were fully armed, small giant-like Knights.

They raged and waved flails, Wolf Fang Clubs, and Warhammers, trampling freely on their own positions, slashing at the Infantry trying to hide in panic.

As the enemy penetrated their own ranks, giving birth to a fleeting sense of survival among these Greeks.

What appeared before them was a well-organized infantry phalanx, advancing as a whole following the whistle of the Imperial Knights.

They donned black robes, with double-headed eagle insignias drawn on their backs and in front.

The shield wall, along with the sharp spearheads extending from the gaps of the shields, almost shattered the courage of these Greeks whose formations were already torn apart.

Renault gripped his shield tightly, advancing nervously with the whistle.

He felt as though he wasn’t a living person, but merely a small component part in this massive war machine, needing not to think but just hold the shield and proceed following the Imperial Knights’ commands.

Through the gaps of his face-covering helmet, he could see that the enemy’s position was almost a scene of devastation.

In the distance.

The sound of hooves reached them.

“Is that the enemy cavalry?”

Renault became increasingly tense in his heart: “Where will they charge from, could it be from behind us?”

Thoughts swirled.

But long-standing training ensured he still remembered his mission.

Which was forward, forward, and forward again!

Ned, remaining at the rear of the squad, displayed a playful expression: “Just as the lord foresaw, the enemy cavalry is coming, Eagle Banner Brigade, prepare to engage!”

The seasoned veterans on the wings of the formation placed their square shields on the ground, drew heavy spears, and held them in reverse.

In the blink of an eye, they stood like a forest of spears.

If they attacked from the rear, they would crash directly into the bloodthirsty Varangian Guards holding two-handed axes.

Perhaps positioning them behind the cavalry, following the Crusader Knights in the charge, would more easily tear through the enemy’s formation and achieve even more impressive results.

But Losa never saw Turriados as his great enemy.

This battle, more than anything, was a war of training.

Only through consecutive victories could these Farmer Soldiers truly transform into a formidable force!

Turriados’s face revealed a trace of panic.

He clearly saw his soldiers being devoured by the advancing Crusader phalanx that appeared like a wall.

It was like a giant hedgehog.

When his soldiers approached.

Sharp long spears immediately extended from behind the shield wall and knocked these pitiable Greeks to the ground.

Their morale had already plummeted to rock bottom.

He could even see that the Crusader Knights who led the chaos in their ranks were regrouping at the back of his own squad.

“I still have cavalry!”

“I still have cavalry!”

He muttered like grasping a lifesaving straw.

Then, he saw his cavalry being struck down by heavy spears as they approached the enemies’ wings.

The Greek cavalry charged in close, realizing the enemy was already prepared, dared not to approach again; many simply left the squad and scattered in retreat.

“Scoundrels!”

“How dare you act this way!”

“You cursed cowards!”

“The martial virtue of the Empire is ruined by you.”

Turriados, still staying on the hillside, cursed with utter despair.

At that moment.

A cold touch came from the neck.

A cloaked girl held a sword blade across his neck.

“Seeing your impassioned state, why not face death for loyalty at this moment?”

The female voice was cool.

Chelina watched expressionlessly as Turriados trembled all over.

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