novelAbuy #370 - Battle of Black Mountain (Thirteen)
#370 - Battle of Black Mountain (Thirteen)
Clear hoofbeats rang in his ears, but Mormont didn't look up. He knew it was the Holy Grenadier Cavalry led by the Saintess Jeanne.
Or rather, the Witch Jeanne leading her Warlock Cavalry.
Back in the Joanist Party days, they had proposed researching a spell for rapid casting, then training warlocks as cavalry to fight against knights.
Unfortunately, they had neither the spells nor the horses.
As the intersection of subtropical and tropical climates, the Black Serpent Bay, rife with magical creatures, beasts, swamps, and forests, was simply unsuitable for raising horses.
Moreover, as descendants of fugitives, heretics, and witches, the people of Black Serpent Bay had an innate aversion to becoming 'knights'.
For the warlocks within the Black Serpent Bay's Secret Society, 'No cooperation with the Empire or the Church' was an iron rule.
The original founders of the Secret Society came to Black Serpent Bay with boundless hatred for the Empire and the Church, and they made this oath.
They specially set this oath to prevent future generations of the Secret Society from colluding with the Church.
The consequences of violating the oath were equally severe. For the Secret Society factions with softer methods, they would generally behead the betrayer.
For some of the more cruel, unnamed Joanist factions, they offered slow slicing, human pillars, and a series of other choices, with their families facing joint liability and exile.
Warlocks born in Black Serpent Bay were educated from childhood with hatred for the Empire and the Church.
Under this iron rule, for decades, the number of warlocks who betrayed them never exceeded thirty per year.
Even in the warlock slave camps, those warlocks refused to accept any remuneration while working, because that meant cooperation with the Empire or the Church.
Even if no one knew, if they encountered a psychic warlock or witch one day, they would be in terrible trouble.
"Clunk-" The fire ballista at the front jumped as it rolled over a stone, but Mormont still didn't look up.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed the fire ballista, exerting all his strength to move forward.
Since the horses were all used to pull Horn's leather spring cannons, they could only choose this most primitive method to push the fire ballista to the intended ballista position.
The wheels rolled over the ground, crushing the grass, emitting a pungent grassy smell.
The cool grassy smell, on the contrary, intensified the heat in Mormont's heart.
Before the battle, this battle plan was issued to many professionals for discussion according to Horn's instructions.
Based on Horn's previous experience, plans that had not been widely discussed by professionals had a high probability of going wrong.
The Papal States had made jokes more than once before.
After all, this kind of proposed plan, while reasonable in theory, was not necessarily feasible in practice.
The review of the battle plan's 'warlock factor influence' was done by Pasrik and Mormont.
Based on the 'no cooperation' iron rule, the two made a 'very suitable' judgment on the plan location.
Although Mormont didn't know what Pasrik's expression was now, he could probably guess it wouldn't be too good.
Even now, he still couldn't believe that the partners in those warlock slave camps would stand on Niddersall's side.
Mormont knew almost all of them!
Had they forgotten how Niddersall had enslaved them? They hadn't betrayed him after more than ten years of coercion and inducement, so why did they suddenly betray him today?
What happened, happened, and the only thing Mormont could do was to make up for it.
"We're at the ballista position, stop!"
Lifting his sweaty head from behind the ballista, Mormont immediately grasped the staff on the ballista lever, and a scorching aura immediately spread around.
"Astrologer, where's your astrolabe? Do a divination quickly."
"Don't rush, don't rush, I'm calculating!"
…………
"Another shot?"
Horn lowered his telescope, his surprised voice drowned out by the sound of neat footsteps around him.
He was even more surprised than Niddersall: "How did these hand cannon monks fire a second shot? They can even stand up!"
The hand cannon monks who fired the second shot last time were still drooling and urinating in the mud in the sanatorium.
These hand cannon monks can even lift their crescent axes and charge with the spearmen?!
If it was just one person, it could be explained as an adrenaline rush, but an entire brigade together was a bit abnormal.
If this battle can be won, after the war, we must carefully ask the captain of that hand cannon brigade how he did it.
However, whether the hand cannon brigade performed exceptionally well or not actually had no impact on the main body of the battlefield. When Niddersall led all the Niggosaks and Squire Knights to charge at the right-wing army, his flaw was exposed.
After the previous rapid march, Horn should have arrived long ago, but he didn't choose to appear behind Jieshka to support him, but ran to the front of the right-wing army's chariot fort.
Unlike most people who thought that the battle between Jieshka and Niddersall was the key point, Horn believed that his position was the key to victory or defeat on the battlefield.
The telescope slowly turned, and the Night Watchmen and leather-armored sergeant phalanxes in a 30X60 column were quickly heading towards the front of Horn's right-wing army.
Viktor in the center army successfully received support from the two legions led by Hakuto of the left-wing army after repelling a wave of Squire Knights' charges from Zeraken's men.
Archers were left in Hakuto's original position, and they were passionately shooting at the still-loafing Kush Knights.
The eight legions changed from the original diamond-shaped formation in the front to a crescent-shaped formation slanting to the right, and all the forces of both sides began to tilt to the northwest side of the position.
The two guard legions stood firm in front of the chariot fort one after the other the moment before Horn raised his telescope.
The ocean of arming coats and chainmail jumped into view, and the raised hooked spears and spears flashed in the midday sun.
"Are the fire ballista in place?" Horn drew the Blood-Veiled Cloud from his belt.
"The fire ballista are in place."
"What about the Hussars?"
"Almost there."
"What about Jeanne and the Holy Grenadier Cavalry?"
"They are about to engage with the Niggosaks, oh no, they are already fighting with the Niggosak Knights."
…………
"It's okay, I'm okay."
Pushing aside the other Niggosaks who were helping him up, Niddersall let out an inexplicable roar.
Seeing that their commander was safe and sound, the Niggosaks immediately let out a high-spirited war cry.
Climbing back onto his warhorse, he spat out a mouthful of blood, forcibly suppressing the lingering fear in his heart.
Just as he and the Holy Grenadier Cavalry had begun to fight, a lead bullet narrowly flew past the octagonal conical top helmet on his head.
Although it didn't cause him much damage, the violent sound when the lead bullet grazed past his ear caused black blood to flow out of his ears.
Until now, he heard all sounds as if they were separated by a layer of film.
He shouldn't have hesitated just now, Niddersall tore off a strip of cloth from his body and wiped the blood off his lance, thinking with hatred.
His inherent suspicion and his mindset of seeking complete preparation before fighting had harmed him. Just because he hesitated for ten seconds, the Holy Grenadier Cavalry caught up.
The Niggosaks in the front row had just been blown by the Holy Wind, so naturally they were penetrated in one wave, and the Squire Knights fled for their lives.
Niddersall had no choice but to lead the remaining Niggosaks and Squire Knights to charge up. The two sides fought back and forth before reorganizing their formations.
However, these Holy Grenadier Cavalry didn't get any advantage. The Niggosaks were all knights with at least the sixth stage of breathing technique, with an average of Banner Knights.
Most of the Holy Grenadier Cavalry only had the second to fourth stage of breathing technique. The only thing worth fearing was their indestructible Holy Wind.
At a distance of ten meters, even a Banner Knight would be overturned and fall off his horse if he was shot.
However, just now, the two sides exchanged blows, and the Niggosaks only suffered more than twenty casualties, while the Holy Grenadier Cavalry suffered nearly fifty casualties.
Should he retreat? Niddersall hesitated again.
In just a few seconds, he heard the battle cries of the infantry going into battle, and he finally made up his mind again - it was not yet time to retreat.
"Prepare to charge...wait!" Niddersall narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Salvation Army soldiers who occasionally raised their heads.
He seemed to have thought of something, raised his head, and looked around in the sky.
In the sky, a sandy yellow giant eagle repeatedly circled, making rapid calls.
He had been too immersed in the battle formation just now, and with the harassment of the lead bullets, Niddersall didn't notice it until now.
He understood and looked to the side and rear, directly below the center of the sandy eagle's circling.
That was a cavalry unit of about a hundred people, not wearing any armor, quietly advancing hidden in the earth-shattering shouts of killing.
Unbeknownst to when, a Hussar of about a hundred people appeared on the edge of the battlefield, hidden in the shade of the trees.
Hidden in the shade of the trees, fast-moving Hussars, appearing on the edge of the battlefield...
The three keywords combined together, Niddersall felt his face go numb and his hands and feet tremble slightly, which was a precursor to blood rushing to his face.
The target of these Hussars was not himself, but the traitor warlocks in the distance!
A surge of blood rushed to his head, and in the dizziness, he immediately gave the order: "Never mind, quick, quickly turn around to intercept those Hussars."