The war horse angrily scraped its hooves on the ground, the cold of the icy surface made him feel especially uncomfortable.
Nidesar gently stroked his mane, this mixed-breed horse from the desert, his father was Nidesar’s first war horse.
Unfortunately, in a battle with the Falan rcenaries, that bravest war horse it had ever seen died under the giant sword of a Land Servant.
And now this war horse will accompany him in initiating one of the most glorious charges of his life.
Even Nidesar had to admit, the rebels before him had so skill.
Based on the current situation, he could accurately judge that if the fight continued, it was a draw if lucky, and defeat if not.
The eastern side was high ground, difficult to attack, plus there were the Kush Knights dragging things down.
Though it seed a weak point, it was weak to the point of losing its unexpected effect due to being overly highlighted.
Nidesar’s battlefield creed was never to do what your enemy wants you to do.
Using years of field-conquering experience, Nidesar rapidly realized the enemy’s right wing was the breakthrough point.
It only had fortifications on the front, while sides and rear were plains amidst swampy puddles, the Salvation Army naturally didn’t guard much.
The only issue was how to get through the swamps and attack the right wing.
For an Imperial Count, this was a problem.
But for a Tribal Knight born in the Blood and Flesh Royal Court, it was not a problem.
By bringing out the enslaved wizards who had been confined for over five years, Nidesar used threats of death and promises of freedom to gain their help.
He had Zelaken continue attacking on the front to attract the Salvation Army’s attention.
In the woods and swamps, these Wizards stepped forward one after another, using mud-to-stone and frost spells to pave a path for Nidesar.
A pathway to victory.
Beside him, the final batch of over a hundred Retainer Knights were crossing the icy surface and hardened soil.
By their hooves, more than a dozen wizards drenched in sweat had twisted expressions, and wore heavy chains on their necks, wrists, and ankles.
These Black Snake Bay Wizards, both old and young, wore thin robes, with each monitored by a Nikosak holding a javelin.
"Is everyone here?"
"The last twenty, the icy surface is a bit slippery." As soon the Nikosak finished speaking, the last twenty knights quickly moved past.
"Now everyone’s here."
As the last knight’s hoof stepped onto solid ground, the Wizards collectively softened and sat down.
"Form the ranks, prepare to charge!"
"Yes, sir."
"Sir..." A wizard struggled to stand, his bean-sprout-like body bearing the weight of heavy shackles, "What about the thing you promised?"
"Do you think I would break my promise?" Nidesar pulled out a key from his coat, "It can unlock the shackles on your neck, making you feel better.
If we lose, you still need to maintain these magical tricks to help us retreat, that’s fulfilling the contract."
Nidesar’s second battlefield creed was always keeping a back way open.
As for whether he would break his promise, naturally, he would not.
If this battle is won, why not let the Wizards go?
If this battle is lost, the enslaved Wizards brought by him would likely be left to the rebels, then they’d naturally gain freedom.
But since these Wizards had once helped him, falling into the rebels’ hands, what the outco would be then, Nidesar couldn’t predict.
Yet this wasn’t sothing Nidesar needed to consider.
He looked up, as under the scorching sun of his holand, a giant eagle with yellow feathers was circling in the sky.
Though Nidesar had long converted to Miseria, at such a mont, he couldn’t help but chant the childhood prayer for the Eternal Lord.
"No god outside of You!"
When he looked down, all past slyness and cunning vanished, leaving only ferocity and cruelty.
Nidesar pointed the war banner at the infantry phalanx of Jeska: "Charge!"
The whip lashed, the mixed-breed horse from the desert let out a roar-like neigh, the scorching sun reflected on his round helt do, as if back in the holand—the barren desert, Empire’s wasteland.
"Woo woo woo—"
Nidesar heard the nervous bugle call from the rebels, but what did it matter?
He saw the commander wearing an eyepatch cursing while rapidly directing the troops to turn from back-facing to front-facing efforts.
"One hundred yards!" the adjutant next to him shouted loudly.
"Javelins up, prepare!" Pupils constricted sharply, Nidesar seed to establish so connection with the war eagle sand sculpture in the sky.
He could see that the rebel troops had at most turned halfway, currently facing him in a column formation.
The first row of Holy Gunn were half-kneeling, and the second row were bent down, their dark gun barrels aid at the approaching Nikosaks.
A decent approach, reducing the impact area of projectile strike, but that’s about it.
Let’s see who’s truly faster.
"Seventy yards!"
"Throw!"
Nidesar felt muscles stretching the skin, tightly pressed against the scalding arm guards.
With the acceleration of the war horses, three hundred javelins soared into the sky like upside-down raindrops, cleaving the air, diving straight at the Salvation Army.
Three hundred Retainer Knights closely followed, chasing the javelins still in their charge.
But the javelins were much faster than their charge speed, they landed into the Salvation Army’s ranks with a sharp whistle.
The Salvation Army was caught off guard by the javelins in high-speed flight, the long spikes from the Blood and Flesh Royal Court pierced through their chests and heads, nailing them to the ground.
Dozens of War Monks fell face-up, thick wet blood slipped down from their chests or vests along the javelin sticks.
They desperately gripped the javelin sticks to prevent their bodies from being torn apart again.
"Move, don’t block the view." Pushing aside the War Monk blocking in front of him, Jeska looked at these good lads he had trained bit by bit, his eyes full of anger.
But he didn’t show any signs of anger: "Holy guns, fire back, Barnaby’s column, turn into line!"
Under the rebuke and flapped lances from the brigade commanders, the Salvation Army’s Holy Gunn quickly responded.
After the familiar slogan, shrieks and thunderous rumblings intertwined, lead bullets whistled towards the charging Retainer Knights.
Amidst the clattering, at least twenty of the charging Retainer Knights were hit, and thirty were tripped.
The war horses neighed as they fell, kicking up dust, the wailing was continuous.
As the Retainer Knights fell, the rear Barnaby’s Black Hat Sixth Corps finally completed its turn.
They neatly regrouped, blocking the Retainer Knights, shooting the second wave of lead bullets, again resulting in dozens of Retainer Knights dead or injured.
As expected, the over three hundred Retainer Knights collapsed imdiately, crying as they scattered to both sides.
"Fortunately, nothing major went wrong." Barnaby sighed with relief watching the departing Retainer Knights, but as soon as he relaxed, he felt a huge shadow shroud his view.
The sand yellow giant eagle about half-human height suddenly swooped onto his face, Barnaby scread once, and an eyeball was plucked into the sky by the sand sculpture.
"Damn it, soone shoot it down." Firing an arrow at the giant eagle in rage, Jeska cursed out loud, "Push forward, wait for our cavalry!"
The crowd surged with low-level monks and knights shouting angrily, the central army and left and right wings simultaneously comnced infantry assaults.
Just needing to break open a gap in the right wing, that was Nidesar’s most familiar diagonal strike tactic.
"Co on, co on!" Nidesar’s rugged face showed a manic smile, "Let’s see who is the bravest in this world!"
The distance between the two sides remained just thirty yards.
"Throw!"
Having lost obstruction from the Retainer Knights ahead, Nidesar threw the javelin, humming it furiously forward.
"Barnaby, watch out!"
"Duck!"
Barnaby, still covering his face while screaming, hadn’t replied, when the javelin pierced his throat.
At the mont of Barnaby’s death, the Black Hat Sixth Corps, newly lined up, imdiately tore apart.
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