When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#319 - Hussars, pursue!

The raging fire devoured the thatched cottages that had been painstakingly built over the past two months, with violent coughing and desperate cries echoing through the thick smoke.

The heavy ears of wheat and rice stalks were stained crimson with blood as knights chased fleeing farmers through the fields.

Hunting dogs scoured the forests, bushes, and caves for survivors, and each bark sent a knight racing to the scene.

"How goes it? Has the centurion of this manor been captured?"

A robust, extraordinary knight sat atop a small warhorse, addressing the approaching squire.

"He died in battle, Mr. Casthardal." The squire lowered his head respectfully, not out of reverence for Casthardal, but to avoid seeing his cross-eyed gaze break into a smile.

Unlike most cross-eyed individuals, Casthardal suffered from a peculiar condition due to a family inheritance, causing his left eye to look left and his right eye to look right.

In an era where cousin marriages were common, it was almost embarrassing for a noble not to have some "heavenly mark" of family inheritance.

Despite his seemingly unintelligent appearance, Casthardal's voice was steady as he asked, "What are our current losses?"

"About twenty men..."

"Good," Casthardal nodded. "That way, our escape will look more convincing."

The squire knight was speechless.

These weren't feigned losses; these were real casualties. He hadn't even dared to tell Casthardal that two squire knights had been killed in a crossbow ambush.

These people were too strange. A small manor, not only were the farmers unusually brave, but more than a dozen extraordinary soldiers had emerged.

Even the ordinary farmers were much harder to kill than those in their Golden River Township.

The reason for the farmers' unusual bravery was simple: during the manor era, they were just guarding the door for others. When enemies came, their main priority was to run.

But now, this land was something they had worked hard to obtain. It was the foundation of their lives, the beautiful life they had dreamed of.

Were they just going to let these knights take it away?

As for the origin of those extraordinary infantrymen, it was even simpler.

They were the farmers!

Horn had opened up the mountains and forests, allowing the villagers to freely fish and hunt.

The villagers could have meat from time to time.

Although not as frequent as the Salvation Army's daily meat consumption, the Guardian Army could eat meat every three to five days, and ordinary villagers could eat meat once a week.

After all, Langsand County had such a large forest area and numerous streams and lakes.

Horn directly distributed the Knight's Breathing Technique, so everyone could practice it.

An important duty of the Guardian Army was to train ordinary civilians in the use of javelins and spears during the agricultural slack season.

Whether for fighting wild boars, wolves, or other wild animals, or for fighting knights, bandits, or other domesticated animals, they could all be useful.

Of course, unless they were exceptionally talented, the ordinary villagers' Breathing Technique was not as effective as that of the Guardian Army and the Salvation Army, who had meat to eat.

Over the past three months, each hundred-household district, combined with the original armed farmers, had at least a dozen or twenty Breathing Technique users.

Many of the two hundred or so squire knights had suffered greatly from ambushes.

But Casthardal was unaware.

He still happily led a few companion cavalrymen, roaring in and out.

This was clearly a job that was both prestigious and profitable. Why did those knights stationed on the border always decline and push it around?

Seeing their attitude of shirking responsibility, he, as a warrior who had fought alongside the ridiculous knight Nidsar, took on the task for the southern knights without hesitation.

From the current performance, this luring and harassing job wasn't too difficult.

"Mr. Casthardal, look over there." At the edge of the forest not far away, teams of iron-clad cavalrymen rounded the hills, surging towards them like a tide.

"They're finally here! Form up!"

Casthardal laughed and began shouting for the squire knights to form up.

Before long, more than two hundred squire knights had formed up on the barren ground beside the wheat field.

Among them, about thirty genuine extraordinary knights served as captains, and the rest were squires with first or second-level Breathing Techniques or none at all.

They stood quietly beside the wheat field, waiting in anticipation for the appearance of the Holy Gun Cavalry.

A gentle breeze swept through, the wheat ears swaying softly, everything seemed so peaceful—if one ignored the rolling smoke and painful cries behind the knights.

"They're here!" Casthardal said in a low voice.

A banner embroidered with black and red colors and a gear-sun appeared in sight.

Gretz raised the battle flag with one arm, his body strapped to the horse, his eyes seemingly able to spit fire.

Behind him, the bodies of hundreds of Holy Gun Cavalrymen rose and fell like waves.

"Walk to trot!" At the very front, Jeanne shouted.

Iron hooves drummed heavily on the ground, and the breastplates inlaid with bronze gear patterns reflected a pale golden light in the sun.

These cavalrymen wore semi-enclosed long-tailed helmets, with neck guards and masks firmly protecting their heads.

The heavy three-quarter armor clanked in the warhorse's bumps.

Although Horn preferred to use breastplates, the previous Battle of Pavia proved that the firepower of the Holy Gun Cavalry had not yet reached the level where they could charge through formations wearing breastplates.

On each side of the saddle hung a loaded cavalry single-shot gun.

This type of gun had a smaller caliber and a smaller range, but it was lighter. As long as one had a second or third-level Breathing Technique, they could lift and fire it with one hand.

Drawing out the single-shot holy gun with a leather-gloved hand, Jeanne pushed the saber on her belt to a position where it could be easily drawn, her high leather boots tight against the saddle, ready to adjust her speed at any time.

Behind her, arranged in a dense formation, each row of the Holy Gun Cavalry followed closely behind the previous row, like a wave of steel advancing.

In the shadows of the sun, the faces of the Holy Gun Cavalrymen could not be seen.

Warhorses snorted, their right hands gripping the holy guns, the muzzles gleaming in the sun.

The Holy Gun Cavalry's team was like golden light, rapidly flying from the plain to the other end of the wheat field.

The wheat field trembled and swayed under their trampling, dust and wheat ears mixing together. Even Casthardal, who had seen knight charges before, felt his mouth dry.

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This is the cavalry of the peasant rebels?

I would believe you if you told me this was the Knights Templar charging.

"Lord Casthardal, I feel something is wrong," the valet beside him said in a low voice.

"Go around! Go around! Don't fight head-on! Let's try a flanking harassment!" Casthardal ordered in a panic.

He finally understood why those border Iber knights declined to lure the enemy!

"Okay, let's try it."

The squire knights circled in an figure-eight formation, trying to use traditional light cavalry entanglement tactics to deal with the Holy Gun Cavalry.

But unfortunately, this tactic did not have much effect on the Holy Gun Cavalry, who were equally fast.

"Fire!" Raising the cavalry holy gun with one hand, Jeanne pulled the trigger and roared.

"Praise the Holy Wind!" In the neat roar, thunderous sounds exploded in everyone's ears.

The haze on the plain was instantly sucked in by the clockwork gun, and fired out along with the lead bullets.

Dozens of lead bullets, like comets, with long trails of smoke, drilled into the abdominal cavities and blood vessels of the squire knights, and blasted out holes.

Sounds like water bottles breaking rang out one after another, their bodies like water, each time a lead bullet passed through, it could splash blood flowers.

Warhorses neighed in terror, unconsciously fleeing in all directions, completely out of control.

With one volley, the squire knights' formation immediately fell into chaos.

Blood mist rose in the sun, there were shaking figures everywhere, and the entire queue wandered between the wheat field and the wilderness like confused sardines.

"Charge!" Raising the battle flag, the Holy Maiden Jeanne took the lead, endless lightning spreading out like wings on both sides.

Seven or eight squire knights on both sides didn't even have time to say a word, and were swept over by the electric net, the scorching lightning passed through their bodies, he screamed and fell stiffly from his horse to the ground.

"Holy Spirit Protects!"

Warhorses neighed, and the Holy Gun Cavalrymen roared, drawing out the long horse knives from their waists.

The cavalrymen quickly passed by the squire knights, and the long knives, at a faster speed, slashed at the knights' armed clothing and chain mail at the moment of intersection.

The long knife jumped on the riveted iron rings and blades, fingers stained with blood, chests and backs stained red, neatly cut wrists...

"Hee-hee!"

"Wait, wait."

"Wait, I surrender."

Before the squire knight could finish speaking, the bright horse knife buzzed and cut into his face diagonally.

The Holy Gun Cavalryman rotated his wrist, dragging the horse knife, inch by inch, deep into his cheeks.

When he passed by, a corpse with a few rows of molars exposed on the side of his ear rolled to the ground.

"You are not qualified!"

When the Holy Gun Cavalrymen killed through the squire knights and returned to their original positions, there were only a group of wounded soldiers crying and struggling on the ground.

As for the squire knights who had been killed and scattered into dozens of strands, some had not even reacted to what had happened.

"Steady, steady! Slowly backwards!" At this time, Casthardal couldn't care about secrecy, and shouted directly, "Lure the enemy, lure the enemy to Azure Blue Valley!"

Saying that, he turned his horse's head and personally demonstrated the action of luring the enemy to Azure Blue Valley.

The rest of the squire knights chased after Casthardal's horse's tail towards Azure Blue Valley, crying and shouting.

"Hussars, pursue!"