Fish Ball noticed the change in the battle situation.
He had been fighting with the mentality that he would knock out the enemy even if he had to die, but the pressure from the enemy was much lower than he had expected.
When he fought the demons on the Fertile Plains, the pressure on the battlefield almost made it hard for him to breathe. His whole body was as stiff as a rock, and the only thought in his mind was to shoot. But now, he still had the energy to observe the situation of his teammates and the enemy, and to think about the enemy's possible actions.
After being forced to retreat several times, the enemy's movements became much more sluggish.
The most obvious point was that the First Army's firing interval had lengthened. In order to conserve ammunition, they usually only fired when the nobles' army charged, but the last time they fired was an hour ago.
Since the enemy had not sent any reinforcements, this kind of "stalemate" of neither advancing nor retreating was definitely a taboo. After all, the First Army was positioned halfway down the slope, and they had the cover of the sandstone barracks, so they had a much greater advantage in firing.
He did not quite understand why the commander of the nobles would make such a choice. Unlike cold weapons, no contact did not mean that there was no battle. Those ambushers were under the pressure of being hit at every moment, and this was undoubtedly a blow to their morale.
Some of the frontlines did not advance, but retreated instead. Fish Ball saw with his own eyes that some of the enemies had retreated nearly 100 meters from their original positions. Now, the entire frontline was like a zigzag wave.
This also revealed that the enemy was not a complete unit, but a temporary patchwork of several teams.
In addition, Fish Ball also noticed that the enemy might not be that good at using flintlocks. Although they were obviously imitating the First Army, they did not make full use of the weapons in their hands.
Otherwise, they would not have lasted until now.
Although it sounded inconceivable, the team had yet to lose a single person in battle, and only five were injured.
This could not be explained by pure luck.
"Can someone give me some bullets? I'm almost out of ammo!"
"Me too. I only have one clip left."
"What should we do next, Monitor?" Hansen ran back and asked, "There are no more enemies around the machine guns. Should we retreat after nightfall?"
Fish Ball looked up at the sky. It was about five o 'clock in the afternoon. The sun set faster in late autumn, and it would be dark in an hour and a half. At that time, the threat of the enemy's firearms would be greatly reduced. Even if they had their backs to direct fire, they would still have a chance.
But perhaps it was because he had been running away for too long, so he always thought more about retreating.
It was true that the darkness of the night had weakened the accuracy of the muskets, but the First Army would also lose their greatest reliance. More importantly, if the enemy regained their morale because of this move and chased after them, would they be able to repel them again?
Of course, if they had enough ammo, the squad might be able to retreat before the attackers could react. However, based on the current situation, the nobles would soon notice that the firing rate in the camp was no longer what it used to be, and it would not be difficult to guess their next move.
What's more, two of the five injured were heavily injured. Retreating with injured teammates would definitely slow them down.
Fishball would never abandon his teammates.
He hesitated for a while and finally made up his mind. "Call the others over. I have something to say."
Not long after, Hansen gathered his teammates who were scattered on the frontline.
The enemy did not seem to notice that the First Army's shooting points had become more concentrated. They were still crouching on the grass and occasionally fired a shot. This further strengthened Fishball's conviction.
He briefly explained the situation and then looked around. "His Majesty always said that attack is always the best defense. If we can defeat these nobles in one fell swoop, we won't have to worry about whether we stay or leave. But if we do the opposite, the enemy may have a chance to bite us back. Now it's time to make a decision. We can leave our fate to the enemy, or we can control it ourselves. I'd like to hear your thoughts. "
"Monitor, do you mean … we should take the initiative to attack?" Hansen was stunned. "They outnumber us."
"I've thought about it. They seem to have the advantage in numbers, but most of them have lost the will to fight. It's just that long-range shooting won't make them realize that they're going to lose. If we can defeat their strongest team, maybe we can completely destroy their will to fight! "
"But we're running out of bullets …"
"The First Army is not an army that only relies on guns to fight. The Combat Manual emphasized this point," Fishball said in a low voice.
After a moment of silence, Hansen was the first to speak. "I'll listen to you."
"That's right, monitor. I don't want to leave anyone behind."
"Either we all go or we all stay."
"Give the order, monitor!"
Everyone shouted.
Fishball nodded solemnly. He would never have thought that he would make such a decision in the past. He had only been in the army for four years, but he felt that something had changed in him.
[You're not a coward.] ["
A sweet and melodious voice rang in his ears.
He took a deep breath and said word by word, "Everyone, put on the bayonet!"
The structure of the gun had changed from the oldest flintlock rifle to the bolt rifle, but the bayonet had never been removed. The only difference was that it was more useful than before.
The soldiers drew their swords from their sheaths and inserted them into the jaws.
Fishball inserted the last clip into the barrel, raised his arm and shouted, "Follow me!"
He took the lead and jumped out of the camp.
The other teammates followed him and rushed toward the enemy closest to the front line!
The enemies obviously did not realize what had happened. Many of them did not even get up from the ground but continued to shoot at the First Army in a clumsy posture.
Fish Ball was prepared to be shot, but the pain he expected never came. The distance of more than a hundred meters was covered in the blink of an eye. Only then did the enemy stand up as if he had just woken up from a dream. He stood there with his rifle in his hand, not knowing what to do.
He stabbed the bayonet into the chest of the first enemy according to the posture he had practiced in training.
"Kill!"
His teammates also rushed forward and rushed into the crowd while they were descending the mountain.
Shouts and screams rang out across the hillside!
Fishball stabbed one down and shot another dead. When he turned around and stabbed the third, he found that there were no new targets around him.
He looked around and found that the enemies had already begun to flee.
They probably did not expect that the First Army would rush out of the camp and engage in close combat with them. The last string in their hearts was broken.
When enemies met on a narrow path, the braver ones would win.
The allied forces of the nobles, who had been clenching their teeth for a long time, did not put up much resistance before they all collapsed. When the troops at the front fled, panic spread through the entire army like a plague. The teams that were already retreating threw down the weapons in their hands and fled down the mountain in a panic. Many of them even lost their footing and rolled down the mountain, knocking down a bunch of their companions who were running in front of them.
When the heavy machine guns fell into the hands of the First Army and turned their muzzles to shoot at the crowd running down the mountain, the enemies hated themselves even more for not having two legs. If it were not for the fact that the machine guns did not have many bullets to begin with, they might not have been able to escape.
Fishball did not know how far he had chased them until his legs became weak and he slowly stopped.
The surviving enemies on the hillside all knelt on the ground and raised their hands to surrender. The nobles who had been lingering in the back ran faster than anyone else and were almost invisible now.
He clenched his fists and felt an indescribable joy in his heart.
However, before he could savor the joy, his teammates rushed up and pushed him to the ground. "Monitor, we won!"
"Long live His Majesty!"
"Long live the First Army!"
Everyone lifted him up and threw him high into the air.
That's right, they won.
Everyone had survived. There was no better ending than this.
Fish Ball opened his arms to the setting sun and joined the cheers of victory with everyone else.
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