This was the first time Carter Lannis had seen such a battle.
More than three hundred Knight had formed a huge lineup, but they had not even touched the edge of the defensive line before they were completely defeated.
Until the end, they were not able to enter the fifty meter range – that was the firing line drawn by His Highness, only after crossing the fifty meter range, were they allowed to open fire.
Four cannons forcibly contained the opponents within the hundred meter range. Within the one hundred and fifty to one hundred meter range, there were twenty corpses lying in disorder, and these people, like himself, were all skilled Knight, otherwise, it would have been impossible for them to control the horses to move forward at high speed under the roar of the cannons.
Carter was glad that he was not one of them. He had a faint premonition that the future war would become very different, and with such a powerful force, Roland Wimbledon would ascend to the throne sooner or later.
After seeing the tragic battlefield, a few people in the First Army began to feel dizzy, vomiting and other adverse reactions, but because it was not close combat, the shock of killing the enemy with cannons was less than that of killing the enemy with a blade, so the reaction was not serious. Carter selected a group of hunters who were accustomed to seeing severed limbs and blood to collect the bodies of the dead, and at the same time to search for those who were still alive.
The sun gradually set behind the mountains, Carter looked at the blood red sky, and the crows in the distant woods, he suddenly felt a trace of desolation.
The era of the Knight was over.
…
Duke Of Ryan had not been able to come back to his senses.
He did not understand how they were defeated, the line of defense was obviously as thin as a cicada's wing, as long as a light poke could penetrate it, but the Knight scattered in all directions as if they had seen the devil. In fact, he couldn't even blame others, because the ones who charged at the forefront were the elite knights under his command.
His personal guards cut down several people, making the swarming mercenaries avoid the Duke's position, but that was all, no matter how much he roared, he was unable to control his defeated subordinates. In desperation, Duke Of Ryan had to follow the flow of people to retreat, this retreat was nearly ten miles.
When night fell, the Duke chose a place near the river bank to set up camp. The missing Knight and mercenaries followed the torches and approached, but most of them were still missing. To make matters worse, the freedmen had not hesitated to leave their carts and provisions behind in their retreat, and to-night they had to kill a few horses for their provisions.
In the largest tent in the camp, the nobles of the five families gathered together and looked at Duke Ryan with pale faces. The latter did not look any better.
"Can anyone tell us what kind of new weapon they are using? It's farther away than a crossbow, and it's not like a catapult where you can see the thrown stones, "he glanced at Rennes Medde," You were also at the front, did you see anything? "
"My Lord, I … don't know," Rennes held his head, "I only heard the roar, and then they fell in batches, especially the last sound, the Knight who rushed to the front seemed to suddenly hit an invisible wall, I saw his body shake, and then his head and arms were torn apart, just like …" he thought for a moment, "An egg thrown from the top of a castle."
"Is it a witch?" The Earl of the Elk Family whispered.
"Impossible," the Duke said, frowning, "My Knight is wearing a God's Stone of Retaliation, a witch can't hurt them. It's not like you haven't played with a witch, in front of a God's Stone, what's the difference between them and an ordinary woman? "
"By the way, my Lord," Rennes suddenly seemed to remember something, "Before I heard the loud noise, I saw a few cart-like things in their formation, on the cart there were huge iron pipes, which emitted red light and smoke."
"Iron pipes? Red light and smoke? Isn't that just a ceremonial bucket? "The Earl of the Elk Family wondered.
The Duke, of course, knew what a ceremonial bucket was. In the past, only the nobles in King's City used it during major celebrations, but now almost every lord had one or two. In his castle, there was a pair of bronze ceremonial buckets, which would explode when put in snow powder. But compared to the soul-stirring thunder today, that sound was far inferior.
"The ceremonial bucket will not let the Knight fall apart," the Earl of Honeysuckle said, "No matter what weapon the Prince used, we have already lost. What should we do next?"
The Duke Of Ryan glanced at him with displeasure, the word "lost" was particularly harsh to him. "We haven't lost yet," he emphasized, "A disadvantageous battle can't change the final result. As long as we return to Longsong Stronghold, I can recruit another team, and at the same time cut off the trade on the Redwater River. Without food, Border Town won't last for more than a month. As long as he dares to bring those villagers out, my Knight can defeat him from the side and behind. "
Victory will eventually belong to me, he thought, but the losses I've suffered are not something a small town can make up for … If I want to take the Northern Region again, it's almost impossible. Damn it! If I can catch Roland Wimbledon, I must tear him to pieces.
"But my Lord, the fleet on the Redwater River is not only from Longsong Stronghold, but also from Willow Town, Fallen Dragon Ridge, and Redwater City. If we intercept all of them, won't it be …" The Earl of Honeysuckle hesitated.
"I'll buy them all, as long as I pay them, it doesn't matter who they sell them to," the Duke said coldly, "Everyone go back to their tents and sleep, we'll set out tomorrow morning. The Knight with a horse will go with us, and the one without a horse will stay behind and be responsible for leading the mercenaries. "
It was impossible to march at night, even if the 4th Prince planned to pursue them, he would have to set out at dawn, and the first thing he would encounter would be the mercenaries left behind. He thought, even if this group of waste collapsed at the first touch, they would still be able to buy him a lot of time.
The next day, the Duke didn't receive any news that the Prince had caught up. In order to confirm this news, he sent his trusted aides to expand the scope of the investigation, and the results were the same. This made him feel a little relieved, probably because the new weapons were as difficult to move as the trebuchets, and could only be used in a defensive battle. Relying only on a group of miners with wooden sticks, the Prince didn't dare to act rashly.
At three o 'clock in the afternoon, the Duke ordered the Knight to stop and wait for the people behind to catch up. When it was nearly dusk, the mercenaries and freedmen caught up with the cavalry one after another. Everyone was busy again, circling a piece of land and hastily setting up tents.
As long as he could get through this night, he would be able to rush to Longsong Stronghold tomorrow – the three feet high bluestone wall was like a natural moat for hundreds of troops. Even if the other side had a very long range of new weapons, he could still use the trebuchets behind the wall to counterattack. This account, he would definitely settle with the Prince.
But what made the Duke Of Ryan a little uncomfortable was that, all the way today, he always felt like he was being stared at.
It's probably an illusion, he thought, I'm too nervous.
The next morning, the Duke was awakened by the sound of cannons.
When he rushed out of the tent, he found that everyone was covering their heads and scurrying away, from time to time there would be mud and blood splashing everywhere. Looking to the west, he saw the "militia" wearing standard leather armor lined up in a straight line, quietly standing outside the camp. In the midst of the deafening roar, there was only one thought left in the Duke's mind – how did they catch up?
Yesterday, the Knight who was responsible for the investigation didn't see the pursuers!?
"Your Excellency the Duke, let's go!" The guard shouted loudly as he brought a horse.
Osmond Ryan woke up from his daze, he turned over and mounted the horse, following the guard to the east. However, not long after they left the camp, they saw another unit that looked exactly the same.
They were wearing the same standard leather armor, holding strange short sticks in their hands, arranged in a neat row, even their expressions looked the same.
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