When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

The flail slammed heavily onto a knight's head, making him dizzy.

Having lost the height advantage of their warhorses, the knights found themselves somewhat overwhelmed by the spears and flails constantly thrusting from behind the carriages.

With the second round of Gryphon cannons roaring, the main force of transcendent knights retreated like a receding tide.

In front of the war chariots lay twenty or thirty knight corpses, like starfish left behind by the ebbing tide.

Watching the retreating figures of the transcendent knights, they still couldn't believe it.

They actually managed to kill knights? Wasn't Thousand River Valley always a symbol of weakness?

Not only were the soldiers puzzled, but even Duke Red杉 couldn't understand it.

Looking at the twin-headed raven banner rapidly approaching from the rear, one could tell how exasperated the Duke was at this moment.

Having such thoughts was natural; the Thousand River Valley uprising war seemed like an ordinary suppression war to outsiders.

But those who had truly participated knew how tragic that war was, forging an extremely radical military system.

The people of Thousand River Valley had always faced the Empire's elite, so they assumed all knights in the world were like that.

The Gravel Plain knights, however, were now giving the soldiers a lesson.

Looking at the blurred figures in the rain, many soldiers who had been randomly stabbing and striking suddenly, as if enlightened, remembered most of the close combat content from their earlier drills.

Turning from a recruit into a veteran often happens in an instant.

"Push the Gryphon cannons to the riverbank. If the knights break through the formation, push the cannons into the river."

Besser's first words after retracting the telescope startled the surrounding officers.

"Lord Besser, what do you mean by that?" A centurion couldn't help but ask, "The Gryphon cannons are the main cargo of this transport. If they're lost, we'll all be punished."

"We don't have the Gryphon cannon's winding mechanism. The mainspring housing is loose. Even the hydraulic winding for the Falcon cannons is barely enough with the Iron Rust River's water power right now," Besser glared at him, shouting impatiently, "If the Gravel Plain people seize the Gryphon cannons, can you bear that responsibility?"

The centurion was immediately silenced.

"Holy power is limited, and reinforcements don't know when they'll arrive."

Bypassing them, Besser put his hands on his hips and began directing the laborers to push the Gryphon cannons.

The knights did not retreat due to the failure of the first wave of attack. Soon, the squire knights once again circled within range.

It seemed this was the method they came up with to deal with the holy rifles and spring-powered cannons.

Using low-end manpower to exhaust them, taking the opportunity to launch an attack.

On the relatively flat wasteland terrain of the Gravel Plain, this tactic was quite effective.

Thus, the second wave of attack, the third wave of attack, each time adding more than a dozen corpses in front of the war chariots.

At the same time, behind the chariot fortress, many holy riflemen who had stuffed calming ointment into their noses fainted on the ground.

Squatting beside a fainted holy rifleman, Old Rafer turned his head to look at the rising water level of the Iron Rust River, reaching out to pluck off a leech crawling up his calf.

Carle didn't speak, just gripped the dagger in his hand tightly, his eyes staring straight at the armored knights attacking in the distance once again.

"Praise the Holy Wind!"

He could see the lead bullets piercing through the water vapor, creating streaks like pipes.

This time, due to the volley fire and the close range,

the holy riflemen were performing better and better. After this round of Holy Wind, they actually shot down more than ten knights.

However, unlike before, this time Duke Red杉 had issued a death order, making the knights drink potions.

Although more than ten knights fell from their horses, under the blessing of potions and divine magic, the remaining knights still fought wildly and fiercely.

In the rain, four knights with red-feathered arrows hanging from their waists had already broken through the Holy Wind and charged in.

The warhammers in their hands swung as if weightless, emitting a dull sound of tearing through the air.

The leading knight raised his warhammer high and slammed it down on a carriage.

The carriage board shattered instantly, and the soldier at the gap looked blankly at the giant-like armored knight in front of him.

Before he could escape, the warhammer smashed down on his head, and two streams of blood spurted out, the soldier's head directly smashed into his chest cavity.

And the warhorse was quite intelligent, kicking out with both hooves, directly knocking the carriage in front of it askew, revealing a huge gap.

"Damn it, Order Knights!" Picking up a halberd from a servant, the centurion roared, "Follow me, lads!"

After saying that, the centurion took the lead and rushed out. This was the ultimate truth they had learned in the Thousand River Valley war—only by risking your life can you survive!

"Follow me, charge!" At this moment, Old Rafer had rarely lost his composure, charging up with bloodshot eyes.

The ferocity of the mountain people from Thousand River Valley erupted.

Including Rafer, dozens of spearmen wielding spears roared and charged up.

But that knight's horsemanship was quite superb, and despite wearing heavy armor, he could still leap up, his hind legs even kicking two soldiers flying away when he landed.

However, as soon as he landed, he was surrounded by more than a dozen soldiers, and more than a dozen holy rifles aimed at him.

However, behind him, three other red-feathered arrow knights charged in from the gap in the chariot fortress in succession.

The laborers cried and screamed, diving under the carriages or even jumping into the muddy river.

The sound of gunfire was obviously much more chaotic, and Besser's roar echoed even more throughout the clouds: "Aim at those knights! Aim at them! The ones with red-feathered arrows hanging from their waists."

The crackling sound of gunfire rang out, and lead bullets flew overhead.

After being kicked away by the warhorse, the dizzy Old Rafer picked up a poleaxe again.

He saw that besides a mere seven or eight knights continuing to fight in the gap, the rest of the knights had turned their heads again.

But this time, they wouldn't leave too far; they would definitely charge over again.

The gap had already been opened; there was no reason to retreat.

Hooves churned into the mud, and Old Rafer staggered to his feet only to be swept along with other soldiers charging towards the knights.

Within his field of vision, everything was in chaos, and many squire knights even approached the periphery of the chariot fortress, constantly launching arrows.

In the sound of the rain, the sound of the gears turning the cannon muzzle was so loud that it almost became the only sound in the ears of all the soldiers.

In order to block those Order Knights with red-feathered arrows, Besser even personally rode a horse, using a lance to engage the Order Knights in close combat.

Carle, on the other hand, stumbled and staggered to the Falcon cannon in the chaos.

The moment he touched the Falcon cannon, he heard a crisp click.

Having been trained in "Brief Mechanics," Carle clearly knew that it was the sound of the mainspring housing locking.

But he waited for a few seconds and didn't hear the expected "Praise the Holy Wind."

Raising his head, Carle was just about to ask why it wasn't firing when he saw the gunner fall straight down.

Supporting the gunner's shoulders, Carle cried out, "Not good!"

The gunner's forehead was actually pierced by a blood-stained red-feathered arrow, and both eyes had lost all their luster.

Looking at the red-feathered arrow knights charging recklessly, Carle gritted his teeth and simply dove behind the Falcon cannon.

Using a dagger to jam the elevation gear and screw, he raised the muzzle by an angle that was difficult to perceive visually.

Carle looked around but didn't see the iron awl, so he simply did the work of two people, pulling out his military knife and inserting it into the cotter pin hole.

"Get down!" Carle's duck-like voice saved countless lives at this moment.

"Boom!"

The moment the cannonball left the barrel, Carle tried his best to jump out.

But the enormous recoil still grazed his chest and abdomen, sending him flying out like a rag doll.

Rolling a few times in the mud, Carle curled up in pain.

A deep dent into the flesh appeared on the ribs of his body armor.

Years of knight training allowed Carle to feel, without even touching, that at least three of his ribs were broken.

But this was not without its use.

The two Order Knights who had charged into the chariot fortress were only three to five meters away from the Falcon cannon that fired the buckshot.

Almost instantly, the two closest red-clothed knights turned into a storm of steel and flesh, with flesh and blood splattered, wrapped in iron filings and bones.

Although it only killed two red-feathered arrow knights, the morale blow to the remaining knights was considerable.

In this shock, Besser was the first to recover.

He roared, threw away the lance in his hand, and threw himself onto a knight, dragging him off his horse.

The two wrestled on the ground for several rounds, and finally Besser stood up, while the knight had a fine steel dagger inserted in his armpit.

The situation, after this cannon blast, once again began to tilt towards the Thousand River Valley side.

Faced with these bloodthirsty soldiers, many knights from Gravel Plain fell into deep confusion.

In most cases, breaking into a chariot formation basically meant "breaking the city," and the other side would surrender.

But these strange black-clothed soldiers actually tried to fight a street battle with them after "breaking the formation!"

And as they fought, they were inexplicably pushed out of the chariot formation, and it looked like the gap was about to be closed.

The horn sounded again, but this time it was not forcing them to attack, but rather calling them to retreat.

"Retreat! Retreat!"