Amid the urgent drumbeats, the artillery officers were sweating from both their palms and soles.
They chanically directed the gunners and service workers to install the spring warehouses and shells, strictly following the artillery operation manual for loading.
But clearly, despite the countless practice of loading actions, which almost never went wrong,
at this mont, on the battlefield, small errors occurred again and again.
If it wasn't the shell slipping and smashing a toe, it was the screws on the spring warehouse being too tight to quickly change.
Standing atop the triangular fort, Little Hart ignored the arrows whizzing through the air, still craning his neck to watch the battlefield ahead.
It must be said, these Red Knights are indeed powerful. The Wild Wolf Soldiers, who were indomitable in field battles, were actually partially collapsing in the positional battle.
Especially the midsection parapet, more and more Red Knights were climbing over, like tons of red ink pouring into a black swamp.
Under these Red Knights, even those Imperial Knights seed to be their foils.
The Corps Commander of the midsection wall had already raised the flag, preparing to retreat to the third line under the cover of the second line of defense.
And at the gaps on both sides of the midsection parapet, narrow paths reserved for Long Spear Cultivators to charge, there were also hundreds of Imperial Knights and Red Knights.
Under their fierce attacks, at least a thousand Great Swordsn and Armored Soldiers in the rear advanced towards the parapet under the protection of Tower Shield Guards.
It seed that the entire position was about to be easily breached by the Leia Army from two points within a few hours.
Unable to hold back, he clenched his fists. Little Hart had much more affection for the Wild Wolf Battle Group than Jeska did.
He had been there since its inception until now, this was not only his ladder to promotion but also an existence only second to his family.
Seeing the first line midsection defense about to be breached, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
"Not ready yet?" He swung his sword to deflect the incoming arrows and approached the officers, loudly questioning.
These artillery officers were not Little Hart's subordinates, so they naturally ignored him and instead kept their eyes on the temporary command post not far away.
The red and green flags waved in the hands of the ssengers, signaling "ready to go."
"Spring warehouse assembly complete!"
"Shell loading complete!"
"Calibration complete!"
"Second Artillery Group, all preparations complete!"
"Third Artillery Group, all preparations complete!"
"Fourth..."
As the flags and drumbeats relayed information, all the intel was aggregated to Jeska.
Old Jeska steadied himself on the parapet, his one eye tightly watching the Red Knights instinctively attacking the narrow path.
Realizing sothing was wrong, the Imperial Knights were already trying to pull back, and even many Devilish Horses felt sothing was wrong and were biting the tails of the horses in front.
But when the hooves stepped over that white line painted in li, stepped over the wooden fence of the second parapet defense—
"Ring the bell once, press the lever, and rejoice, Holy Spirit!"
On both sides of the narrow assault paths, a total of twelve spring cannons filled with shrapnel roared simultaneously.
The compressed copper springs expanded in an instant from a coiled state to a loosened one.
Without the control of a regulating chanism, all the energy burst out in an instant.
A thousand 20g iron pellets mixed with glass shards blasted from the cannon muzzle, the iron pellets spinning in the air, whistling and colliding wildly.
Like Miseria in the Gospel summoning a sandstorm to obliterate the southern sand lizard n, the dust storm of iron and lead had already swept through the narrow path.
Like raindrops falling, the lead and iron pellets pierced through armor and clothing, burrowing into the Red Knights' bodies.
Like being reaped by the invisible scythe of the Death God, the front row of over a hundred Red Knights shuddered simultaneously.
The Imperial Knights behind saw a peculiar scene, a conical column of blood gushed from the Red Knights' backs.
In the tight space with the dense pellets, they had almost no place to hide and were imdiately shattered.
In the true sense, they were shattered, with flesh mixed with broken bones flying everywhere.
The Devil's Warhorses fell desperately to the ground, spewing foul-slling bloody foam from their mouths.
Even these Red Knights montarily descended into chaos.
No matter how strong their willpower was, they could no longer use their martial arts or stand up.
Because the iron pellets and lead had already severed their nerves, pulverizing their muscles.
With the ssengers all dead, no matter how strong the general's willpower, they couldn't control the army.
From within the Imperial Knights not far away, a black-clad monk raised a golden trumpet.
As he blew, no sound was heard from it, but all the Red Knights paused in their actions.
The next second, they tried to turn around in unison, to leave this hellish narrow path.
But Jeska was unwilling to give them this opportunity. He kicked Little Hart in the tailbone: "Why are you stunned, organize the infantry counterattack, can't let them escape!"
"Yes, yes!" Little Hart imdiately transford into a wolf, excitedly wagging his tail.
"Do you still question my decision?"
"No more doubts, do I disgust you? If you find annoying, I'll disappear right away!"
"You bastard," Jeska cursed, "After the six-pound cannon fires, imdiately go out to attack, I'll have the Holy Gunn cover you."
"Understood."
Little Hart turned to leave, but Jeska grabbed his furry arm: "What's the rush? I haven't finished talking."
"Go on," Little Hart turned his head quite intelligibly.
"See if you can capture one alive. These Red Knights are ferocious, be sure to break their limbs before making them faint."
"Got it!"
The Imperial Knights tried to assist the Red Knights, but how could the Holy Gunn let them succeed?
Just like Horn entrusting the battle to the Battle Commander at the battle group level, never intervening chaotically himself.
Jeska, as the Battle Commander, naturally entrusted tactical decision-making of the Corps level combat to the officers at that level, never taking over their roles.
The Imperial Knights, desperately assisting the Red Knights, suddenly heard a series of clicking sounds.
Upon hearing these sounds, the knights, who had just endured the Holy Gun assault, instinctively ducked down onto their horses' backs.
Amidst the whooshing, pellets flew like locusts over their sides, with nearly two hundred Holy Gunn on both the upper and lower defense levels simultaneously firing Holy Wind.
Visibly, nearly a hundred Imperial Order Knights shuddered all over, estimating heavy casualties once more.
Taking advantage of the Holy Gunn's rotation interval, the knights turned, leaving the hundred-ter range.
Yet this slight ti lag led to extrely severe consequences.
The Wild Wolf Soldiers bounded over the parapet, galloping on all fours, pouncing on the unsuspecting Red Knights, bringing them down.
But the Wild Wolf Soldiers did not linger in battle, retreating calmly under the cover of Holy Guns and Long Halberds.
For at the next mont, as if to boost morale, under the amplification of a Wild Wolf Soldier's spell, all the Wild Wolf Cultivators heard Jeska's voice.
"Ring the bell twice, inject Holy Power, praise the Clockwork Angel in unison!"
"Praise Holy Thunder! Praise the Angel!" The artillery officers shouted excitedly.
Four six-pound sand sculpture cannons fired simultaneously, heavy iron balls rolling across the ground, scraping past fractures, colliding with severed limbs.
The iron balls rumbled, rolling through the Red Knights, carving a tragic alley of flesh and blood.
Especially the Devil Horses with nowhere to hide, they scread in avoidance, yet were still struck through the belly and swept down the legs.
As for the fallen Red Knights, what awaited them was the rotating Holy Guns and crisscrossing assaults of Long Halberds and Long Spears.
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