An excellent sprinter could shorten a 100-meter sprint to ten seconds, and the last ten meters would take less than a second. For a horse with better running ability, it would take even less time to run a dozen meters after accelerating. For the two colliding cavalrymen, the distance of a dozen meters was covered in an instant.
According to the analysis of the cavalry's daily training and the experience of the Martial Arts Chessboard, the distance of a dozen meters was also covered in an instant. It was the same distance of more than ten meters, and it was also the same instantaneous movement. Compared to using a knife to slash people at the last moment, holding a big shotgun and using more than twenty bullets to hit people's faces was much more advantageous. Especially when the person holding the big shotgun was a dense formation of cavalrymen, the effect of hitting the enemy's face was even better.
Not to mention the psychological sense of security that mid-range shooting brought to one's own side, just looking at the actual battle, it was unknown if the shotgun hit the enemy or not, but the loud noise and thick smoke would definitely scare the enemy's warhorse into neighing.
Horses were extremely sensitive animals, and untrained horses would have all kinds of problems in the face of unexpected accidents. The cavalry all plugged the ears of their warhorses to reduce the impact of the loud noise and thick smoke, and went through repeated training. The Arabian horses on the opposite side had never seen such a scene, and they would lose control at the last moment of the high-speed collision.
Some horses would be hit by the 'frontal attack', and blood and flesh would fly everywhere, falling down together with their riders. Some horses were lucky enough to escape the fate of being bombarded, but they would be so scared that they would change their direction in an instant, subconsciously dodging and slowing down. As long as they changed their direction a little, their riders' attacks would miss.
There were also some warhorses that were not in the first row of the attack formation. They would be shocked by the abnormal situation in front of them, and would raise their front hooves, unwilling to continue charging. What awaited them would be the cavalry that flew past them, and the bullets that were shot at them as if they had hit a dead target. Whether it was a human or an animal, the first reaction when encountering an unexpected situation was to stop, and not continue charging.
The flintlock was not a matchlock. The latter needed to hold the barrel for two to three seconds before the bullets could be fired after the trigger was pulled, but the flintlock could fire in less than a second. In fact, when the cavalry was more than 20 meters away from the enemy, they would finish all the preparations and pull the trigger. When the recoil from the butt of the gun came, they would automatically turn their horses' heads to let their brothers in the back row continue to attack.
As the entire attack formation was an inclined plane, the cavalry guards opened fire at the enemies on their side. Row after row of cavalrymen took turns to advance, bombarding and sweeping the enemies in front of them.
Every shotgun was like a big broom. The effect of firing from the first row was usually not very good, but it was enough to make the enemy slow down in shock. The people at the back suppressed their speed and rushed forward to attack the enemies who were running around or standing in a daze.
In the face of firearms, the Holy Light defense against cold weapons was too weak.
Normally, cavalrymen had to hold short-barreled shotguns with both hands, but He Zhuo, the leader, held one in each hand. Dog Meat was telepathically connected to her. Before she opened fire, he deliberately leaped up from the ground to keep his body stable. In that short moment, she aimed at the enemy's face. It was really refreshing to spray one at a time.
In the battle formation, the cavalrymen were also under unified command. Everyone advanced in a rhythmic manner, rationally assigned their targets, and unleashed their firepower. Every round of fire would inevitably cause three or four cavalrymen to fall, and the enemy's formation would be peeled off a layer.
When the layers of enemy cavaliers fell one after another, the entire cavalier company was like a strong gust of wind that stirred up scorching smoke. After harvesting a batch of enemy's flesh and lives, they lightly ran past the enemies who were already in a state of chaos.
The roar of gunfire spread across the wilderness, deafening. The Portuguese army's cavalry squad seemed to be aggressive, but in the face of the even more ferocious and domineering bullets, they were beaten to a pulp. More than ten Portuguese army cavalrymen were all swept off their horses. Amidst the smoke, there were cries of agony.
The Arabian slave cavalry at the back of the Portuguese army also suffered a head-on blow. These fierce slaves holding machetes screamed as they followed the white men in front of them to charge forward, but the moment the gunshot rang out, they were shot in the head. They never thought that there would be someone who could shoot on horseback. The Arabian horses were so shocked that they raised their hooves and ran around, forcing them to expose their backs while they were sprinting.
The slave cavalry in front of them had to use all their strength to rein in an attempt to regain control of their horses, but they were immediately killed by the cavalry guards who rushed up. The slave cavalry that followed the attack displayed their usual bad habits. They were very good when fighting a favorable battle, but once they encountered a strong enemy, they would reveal their true colors, turning around and fleeing.
From the beginning to the end, He Zhuo did not care about what was special about the enemy opposite them. She used the battle formation to strengthen her team, and after completing a flintlock assault, she quickly retreated, no longer easily engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy. The ninety cavalrymen fought more easily than they did on the training ground. Not a single hair was hurt, but the enemy had more than forty casualties.
After a slight retreat, the cavalry guards reloaded their shotguns on horseback, and the enemy who had just suffered a blow was fleeing in disorder. Not only did the enemy who attacked from the front fail, but even the slave cavalry that took a detour saw the tragic situation on their side and retreated in fear.
Mahomet was getting on in years, and did not personally command his own slave cavalry to charge. He watched from behind, watching the elites he had trained bravely charge forward and then get beaten up by the Eastern cavalrymen riding on inferior horses. The slave cavalrymen were warriors who had been trained for more than ten years. They were skilled in combat, brave, and fearless of death, but they were knocked down with a single shot.
They did not even have the chance to show off their skills.
Lord Costa and Father Merlot, who were watching from the back, were even more stunned. They had smiles on their faces, but they looked as stiff as a ghost. They were too far away to see how the two sides clashed. All they knew was that there was a moment of white smoke in front of them, and a series of gunshots rang out in the wind. Then, their own men and horses scattered in all directions.
It was too magical.
Lord Costa was stunned for a long time. He suddenly rubbed his eyes with both hands and looked again. He hoped that it was just an illusion, and that his beloved nephew Anthony would be able to get back on his horse and claim victory.
"Sir, please remain calm. The battle is not over yet. We need your command. As for Anthony, God will take his poor soul, "Father Merlot was also shocked by the result of the battle, but he had to calm Lord Costa down.
"No, Antony is still alive," Lord Costa shrieked.
"We can send someone to take a look. Poor Anthony might be injured and need our help, but you must accept reality now. But now, you have to accept reality. The eastern cavalry we're facing are the devil's minions … "Father Merlot looked at Lord Costa, hoping to use some magic to calm him down.
"No, my Anthony is still alive," Lord Costa cried out in agitation. Lord Costa yelled in agitation. "Go save my nephew!" he yelled to the guards behind him.
On the battlefield a few hundred meters away, the Portuguese army cavalry officer Anthony was indeed still alive. He had taken two shots from the flintlock just now, and luckily survived thanks to the protection of the ancestral cross on his chest. After he fell off his horse, one of his legs was crushed by the horse's corpse. He couldn't pull his leg out, so he could only look around blankly.
The battlefield was filled with a thick smell of gunpowder. Half of Anthony's horse's skull was blown off, and it fell dead on the spot. Blood and flesh splattered all over Anthony's body. The bustling scene was now quiet. Under the sea breeze, there were many twisted corpses on the ground. The ten or so Portuguese army cavalry that followed him were all dead. Not a single one survived.
There were also more than 20 Arab slave cavalrymen in the path of the charge. Some of them were beaten to death, while others were seriously injured and howling. Anthony felt that the wounded were howling because he could only see their pained expressions and open mouths, but he couldn't hear any sound.
"I'm deaf." Anthony touched his ear. His ear was wet, and blood was flowing out. At this moment, his head was still dizzy, which was caused by the gunshot that hit his face.
After a while, a few Portuguese guards ran over and moved the horse's carcass away in a flurry. A priest who had followed them cast a divine spell on Anthony to heal his injuries. His ears were back to normal, and the noise of the surroundings poured into his ears. The pain all over his body surged into his brain, causing him to scream in pain.
"Ah … Oh god, my leg, my leg is broken." Anthony let out a heart-wrenching cry as he was being moved. He was quickly moved down from the battle line and brought to his uncle.
The army that had set off from Goa had to stop. Thousands of native soldiers formed a line of defense with spears in their hands. Hundreds of the governor's guards and Portuguese army cavalry formed the main force and were on high alert. A large number of people formed a defensive formation on the road to deal with any possible attack.
Anthony was placed on a stretcher. He looked at Lord Costa in pain and shook his head. "I'm sorry, uncle. I've let the honor of the family lose its luster. I wanted so badly to win, but I … I failed. "
"No, you're a brave child." Lord Costa got down from his horse and grabbed his nephew's arm. "But you have to tell me, what happened to you?"
"Those eastern cavalry were equipped with muskets. They used them at close range to defeat our men," Anthony said. He shuddered at the thought of what had just happened.
"Muskets?" Lord Costa was surprised. "How could they use muskets on horseback?"
"Not muskets. It should be flintlocks. The new spring flintlocks can be used in any environment, "Anthony said.
The ancient spring steel was practically metaphysical. It was harder to get a piece of flexible steel than to win five million. Before the more efficient hammer flintlock mechanism was invented, there was a spring flintlock mechanism that had appeared more than a hundred years ago. But the spring mechanism was as precise as a clock, expensive and unreliable. It broke after a few shots, so it had never been popularized.
In the eyes of the Europeans, only this kind of immature technology could be used on a bumpy horse. After all, while muskets were cheap, they were afraid of rain and wind, so there was no way they could fire them on horseback.
This speculation made the Portuguese military officers and priests who surrounded them feel amazed. They once again looked back at the hot-air balloon that was floating about three to four kilometers away. Their hearts were filled with mixed feelings. No one knew what was going on with the hot-air balloon, and now the flintlock had appeared. The enemy's technology might have improved tremendously, which was not good.
"Your Lordship, the eastern cavalry are back," a native officer shouted as he ran over in a panic.
Everyone turned their heads and saw that the opponent who had won a small round had appeared on the low slope again. This time, they only looked at the defensive line formed by the Portuguese army and native soldiers, and immediately galloped towards the rear of the army.
Lord Costa shouted in shock, "Cavalry, give chase! Don't let those demons attack our rear!"
Give chase?
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