"Don't pull the cross lever too tight! Loosen it a little!" Simon looked at the enemy that was getting closer and closer, and estimated the torque required for this launch.
"That's it, let go!"
"clatter!"
Another basket of pebbles flew towards the charging team of Baron Arnhem, but this time the accuracy was much better than the previous one.
"哃!"
A pebble hit the head of an elite private soldier of Baron Arnhem wearing an iron helmet. With the huge collision of stones and iron helmets, the soldier lost consciousness before he could even cry out in pain and fell to the ground.
"Well!"
A private soldier wearing thick cotton armor was hit in the chest by a stone. He knelt on the ground with his eyes wide open, but he could not breathe or make a sound. After a while, wisps of blood oozed from the corners of his mouth, and his green pupils began to dilate.
The two poor private soldiers in front were actually quite good, and at least their bodies were intact. What's more, many ordinary peasants and soldiers without any armor protection were beaten to pieces with bloody flesh and skulls cracked.
"Oh my god, I don't want to die here!"
A peasant soldier saw a companion on the left who had "won the big prize" being hit in the face by a stone, and a bright flower of blood bloomed on his face. Looking closer, good guy, this "lucky" guy's entire facial bones were smashed, the stone was deeply embedded in his skull, and all kinds of red and white things were flowing onto the grass like springs. .
Seeing the fellow villager who had been bragging and farting and joking with him die so tragically, the peasant soldier's last psychological defense was broken, and he suddenly shouted hysterically and ran in the opposite direction to the team's charge.
"Puch!"
A bald private soldier thrust the sword in his hand into the peasant soldier's chest, and the terrifying cry stopped abruptly.
"The Baron has an order. Anyone who dares to retreat and escape will have all their property confiscated and then be expelled from the territory!" The bald private soldier who had been following the Baron for a long time drew out his bloody dagger and kicked this man with eyes filled with tears as if he was kicking a bag of garbage. The desperate peasant soldiers kicked him down and shouted loudly to the surrounding soldiers.
"What the hell! Looks like I'm going to die here today!" The morale of these peasants and soldiers, who had never seen such a bloody scene, had been reduced by more than half. What still drives them forward is Baron Arnhem's damned, chilling and desperate order.
The shot from Simon's catapult directly caused Baron Arnhem's charging infantry team to fall into brief chaos, causing about twenty or thirty people to suffer varying degrees of damage and losing their combat effectiveness.
Even some of them, who were timid and cunning, took advantage of the chaos to pretend to be hit by stones and fell to the ground pretending to be dead.
…
"Whoosh" "Whoosh" "Whoosh"
At the same time, on the other side of the battlefield, Baron Iser's twelve archers, plus a little Klein, walked in a row in front of Simon's catapult, facing the approaching enemy in the distance. The Arnhem horsemen fired their arrows.
However, this round of shooting basically did not damage the enemy's cavalry, which was moving at high speed.
"Shoot another round! I've got a good shot! Whoever hits the target will be exempted from taxes for a whole month!" Baron Iser was very angry and shouted to the archers.
I don't know if the archer's feeling came, or he was inspired by the tax exemption, but in this round of shooting, an arrow actually hit the horse of an enemy light cavalry.
After all, this poor horse, which was only used to carry goods, cannot be compared with a war horse. I saw it actually stopped under the pain, raised its hooves high, and the whole horse stood up, directly throwing the confused light cavalry on its back to the ground.
But the hussar still held the reins tightly and struggled quickly to stand up and mount his horse again.
Unfortunately, the frightened packhorse did not give him a chance. Instead, it fled towards the grove on the edge of the plain, dragging the light cavalryman who was still reluctant to let go of the reins for a long distance on the grass.
"Stop shooting!" Seeing that his son Sir Thorger was about to engage Arnhem's cavalry, Baron Iser waved his hands to the archers.
…
"Level the lance!" At this time, Baron Arnhem and Sir Thorger, who were leading the charge of the heavy light cavalry, gave instructions to their men and horses almost at the same time.
The two teams of cavalrymen who originally had their lances erected in their stirrups flattened their lances and tucked the other end of the handle under their armpits.
"God, please protect me!" Sir Sorger stared at the enemy cavalry getting closer and closer through the small slit in the eye of his fully enclosed helmet, feeling with his heart the bumps and jitters of the horses in his hands. Rifle.
"Now!" Sir Sorger, who had trained in lance thrusting since childhood, almost had muscle reflexes and precise intuition. At the moment when he was about to engage the enemy, he slightly raised the bumpy lance in his hand.
"Bah!"
Feeling the huge resistance coming from his hand, Sorger felt happy. He knew he had succeeded.
Thorger's lance stabbed Sir Kun on the shoulder. The sharp spearhead instantly destroyed the strong riveted mail on Sir Kun's body, and pierced his body amid the flying chains.
"Crack!"
Immediately afterwards, the lance in Sorger's hand also made a loud snapping sound.
At the same time, two groups of people passed each other at high speed, and some people screamed and fell off their horses.
The lance in the hand of an Arnhem light cavalry penetrated directly through the chest of an Iser light cavalry, skewering him on his lance like a barbecue on a bamboo stick.
An experienced Iser heavy cavalry actually stabbed open the leather throat guard of an Arnhem heavy cavalry opposite, tearing off half of his throat.
"Uncle Sam, are you still alive?" Solger, who was still recovering from the disaster, called out the name of another knight who was charging with him, but received no response.
"Master, Sir Sam was just killed by Baron Arnhem!" A light cavalryman said to Sorger cautiously. This light cavalryman had just witnessed Sam being stabbed in the stomach by Baron Arnhem's lance.
"No!!!"
Sorger immediately turned around and saw a familiar figure lying with a broken gun stuck in his abdomen among the corpses scattered on the ground where he had just met the enemy. It looked like he would not survive.
Although he personally killed the damn evil-doing Sir Kun, the death of his uncle also caused Thorger to fall into great grief and anger.
…
After engaging the enemy, Sorger and Baron Arnhem both chose to ride towards the open spaces on both sides of the battlefield. They did not dare to risk leading such a small number of men directly into the enemy's dense formation with spears and long forks.
Taking advantage of the gap between the cavalry confrontation, two Simon's escort soldiers had already pushed the catapult and retreated to the rear of the battle formation together with the archers. At this time, standing in the front row were ordinary peasant soldiers holding manure pitchforks in their hands.
"Damn it! I curse Baron Arnhem, a bastard who is worse than a pig!" Seeing the death of the knight who had followed him loyally for many years, Baron Iser was furious, his expression was twisted, and his eyes were red, "Everyone, attack !”
"Kill!" Baron Iser's soldiers roared loudly and pressed toward Baron Arnhem's troops in a chaotic manner.
After Simon's previous two rounds of catapult attacks, the number of infantry on both sides was now almost the same.
"All private soldiers and free peasant soldiers, come to the right wing with me!" Baron Iser finished speaking, and then shouted to Simon, "Sir Simon, take your people to protect the left wing!"
"Okay, sir!" In the chaos and noise, Simon had to use his loudest voice to respond and give the order, "All the soldiers from the Verde village, follow me to the left wing!"
Simon and Baron Iser respectively led their elite soldiers through the middle group of serf soldiers who only wore thin cloth and were full of sweat and stench, and came to the far left and right of the queue.
"The main event is here." Simon licked his lips and tightened the sword in his hand.
