plumnovel #362 - Battle of Black Mountain (VI)
#362 - Battle of Black Mountain (VI)
The wind howled past his cheeks, pressing Nidsar's slightly curled black hair against his iron gorget.
His body rose and fell with the warhorse, the verdant trees and berry bushes on either side blurring into streaks of color.
He could hear the warhorses' neighs and his comrades' battle cries. Three hundred Nigosak, charging in perfect formation, leaned low over their steeds, almost becoming one with them.
Behind them, another three hundred squires struggled to keep pace.
Short, scarlet cloaks billowed out from under silver-grey shoulder armor, snapping crisply in the fierce wind.
Unlike the fanatical Ibe knights from before, Nidsar's eyes were crystal clear.
His horsemanship was excellent, and his courage was more than enough to charge into the enemy ranks.
Not like those pampered Imperial knights who didn't train their riding skills, relying instead on Kahan elixirs to muster the courage to charge.
Nidsar only used Kahan elixirs or spider potions at the most critical moments.
The charge he led was different from the reckless charges of the previous knights.
After those Ibe knights launched their attack, he noticed that the enemy's battle formations on the left and right flanks were actually changing.
Whether it was the Flesh Court or the Divine Ai Empire, there was a rule on the battlefield: avoid changing formations unless absolutely necessary.
Because once a formation changed, foolish infantry would become confused; they couldn't understand the concept of direction and were highly likely to expose weaknesses.
Especially when knights were charging, the pressure made them even more likely to make mistakes.
Since the enemy's left-wing was too far away on his right and difficult to charge, Nidsar decided to try to break through the enemy's right-wing.
Hooves pounded the earth, kicking up clouds of dust.
Jeshka stood on his long-unused bio-synthetic armored vehicle (wooden barricade vehicle), raising his spyglass to gaze at the distant scene before him.
Based on Jeshka's male gaze, even just from the dust, he could roughly determine that the opposing knights numbered between 400 and 600.
His army consisted of 1,000 infantry, two lines of still-wet mortar short walls, and a line of defensive wagon forts.
Holding onto the edge of the vehicle, Jeshka jumped down: "Notify Kohler in the central army; I just helped them out, so they need to help me by launching an L-shaped firing from the flank."
As for Nidsar's attempt to force a chaotic change of formation with his charge, Jeshka wasn't worried at all.
One of the training subjects for the Salvation Army was infantry formation changes under cavalry charges.
The war monks, beaten emotionless by their instructors' wooden sticks, barely paid any attention to the rumbling of hooves.
"Black Hat Sixth Legion, Black Hat Fifth Legion, retreat 20 yards, enter the fortifications and wagon forts to defend."
"Black Hat Sixth Legion!" Barnaby shouted, "First and Second Holy Musket Companies, lead the way, turn left and maneuver into the wagon fort's defensive range. Third and Fourth Holy Musket Companies, immediately return to your original positions and rejoin the spearmen."
"First Holy Musket Company!" The First Holy Musket Company commander followed up with the order, "Everyone, turn left, follow the Second Holy Musket Company, move forward at a quick pace!"
Orders were relayed layer by layer. The war monks, with their orderly steps, followed behind their company and brigade commanders, completely exposing their backs to the knights.
Under Nidsar's incredulous gaze, the war monks returned to their original formation in less than half a minute.
They even performed another butterfly-like transformation, changing from a horizontal line to a vertical line, and quickly marching towards the wagon forts and fortifications behind them.
"Damn it, am I facing the Royal Court's Imperial Guard?" Nidsar cursed, spitting.
They had seen this level of organization and speed of formation change before, but it only existed among the Emperor's Imperial Guard in the Royal Court.
Those guys had nothing else to do all day but dress up beautifully and perform formation changes and slapstick-like fights on the training grounds like a large dance.
In terms of speed, these rebels were much slower than the Imperial Guard.
But Nidsar had never imagined that this kind of formation change could actually appear on the battlefield. He couldn't imagine how to change such a large formation.
He couldn't care less and issued the order to switch to a javelin attack in advance: "Quick pace to running, grab your javelins, prepare to throw."
The Nigosak on horseback drew out javelins over two meters long from their backs.
These javelins were made of tough and flexible ash wood, with a long, needle-like tip at the front, mainly for breaking shields.
The wind on Nidsar's face became even stronger, and the scenery on both sides moved backward like an illusion. He raised the javelin in his hand.
With each breath, the muscles on his arm became more solid, bulging veins knotting and standing out, the skin clinging tightly to the muscles like dried beef.
Breathing techniques allowed knights to greatly enhance the neural recruitment of local muscles when concentrating.
This temporary boost was the source of what knights called extraordinary martial arts.
But this temporary boost required long-term training and was often a closely guarded secret of a noble family. Although some squires' breathing techniques were no weaker than their masters, their combat power was still lacking.
"Oolilee leelee leelee—"
Making a tongue-rolling sound in his native language as a signal, Nidsar arched his back, his body like a longbow, and launched the heavy javelin in his hand.
The javelin streaked through the air, bypassed the wagon fort, and pierced through a war monk's chest like a comet, protruding from his lower back.
The war monk was even knocked backward by the force, and sweet, bloody liquid bubbled from his mouth.
The heavy javelin, which could originally only be thrown thirty meters, was thrown nearly ninety meters by Nidsar.
The Nigosak also threw the javelins in their hands. The tips of the javelins flashed with the dazzling light of the sun, and landed on the wagon forts and mortar short walls with 'doks'.
About twenty of them fell into the wagon forts, and instantly seven or eight war monks who had been pierced through their bodies or arms clutched their wounds and fell.
Fresh blood spurted out, or flowed slowly from the corners of their mouths. The enormous force could even send people flying a short distance.
Even the battle-numbed war monks couldn't help but shrink their bodies under the whistling javelins, afraid of being hit.
Amidst the screams of the wounded, Nidsar suddenly heard a chilling creaking sound.
Years of battlefield experience gave him a sixth sense that allowed him to issue the order without thinking: "Rotate, rotate, rotate to the left!"
Under Nidsar's command, the front row of Nigosak turned to the left like a redirected tide.
In the corner of his eye, Nidsar saw black muzzles rising from the wagon forts and short walls.
But he ran, and the squires behind him were caught off guard and directly exposed to the Salvation Army's muskets.
"Praise the Holy Wind!"
"Bang, bang, bang—"
The rotating Nidsar felt something whizzing past the edge of his cloak, while behind him came a series of painful cries.
In his rapid gallop, he spared a moment to look back.
Nearly a hundred lead bullets were fired from the front and sides simultaneously. Warhorses reared up, and squires clutched their necks, black blood spurting from their mouths and noses.
The orderly ranks of squires were scattered by a volley of musket fire, and dozens of squires were knocked down by the invisible devil's wind.
Some squires were still charging under the influence of potions, but unfortunately, they were hit by another volley of musket fire as soon as they approached the wagon forts.
As they slowed down due to fear, hundreds of spearmen had already poured out of the wagon forts.
Wearing iron helmets and with extremely ferocious faces, no one could guess that they were farmers in the fields three months ago.
"Kill! Expel the devils, restore the true faith!"
"Devil's dogs, die!"
Holding the lower part of the spear in their left hands and the end of the spear in their right hands, they rotated and thrust forward at the same time.
"Pfft—"
The three-and-a-half-meter-long spears, driven by the sprinting spearmen, pierced into the knights' waists and abdomens.
Several squires cried out and fell, fragments of metal and cloth of their armored clothing flying in the air, thick blood gurgling out from both ends of the spear blades with bubbles.
More were thrown off their horses, then had their hands and feet stepped on by the spearmen, who lifted their skirt armor or tore open the collars of their armored clothing, and stabbed hard into their soft skin with short swords or daggers.
Seeing that more than three hundred squires had been reduced to only about two hundred who escaped back, Nidsar abandoned the attack on the Salvation Army's right wing.
"Still too hasty," Nidsar said to the adjutant beside him. "Have the infantry phalanx advance in a column, press them to exhaust their stamina and magic, and tear down those wagon forts and stone walls!"