The fierce battle was so terrible that the faintly undulating "hills" in the distant clearings of the beach seemed to be shrouded in a layer of death.

The bodies of 212 Aragonese soldiers were buried in the clearing, and the crosses erected looked like withered arms poking out of the ground, so horrible in the night.

Count Don Sanjod personally presided over a requiem mass for a soldier who had died in battle, a rare act of kindness for a nobleman, and although his action was also questioned by other nobles, at least the demoralized army was somewhat enlived.

After consulting with the chaplains, Count Don Sanchord ordered the limbs that no longer belonged to be gathered up, dug a large pit in the sand, and poured vats of olive oil found from the town of Noto, and a fire reduced the mutilated bodies to ashes.

212 killed and 47 missing, this was the price paid by the Aragonese in today's battle, although they knew that the enemy must have suffered a lot of losses, but it was undoubtedly a very bad result for the Aragonese army, which had the advantage of numbers.

To add insult to injury, the Wallachians clearly did not want to fight a decent battle with them, and with the speed and firepower of the musketeers and hussars, the Wallachians apparently paid much less in this battle than the Aragonese, which made Count Don Sanchod aware of the seriousness of the situation.

According to the count's plan, it was supposed to defeat the Wallachians first, and then wait for the arrival of the Neapolitan coalition.

But the unusually strong Wallachians thwarted his plans, and now the Aragonese were facing a troubled situation.

It was impossible to withdraw Caribo, but the Count did not think that meant that his plan had failed.

The location of the port of Noto is somewhat strange, and the mountains on both sides are not suitable for military troops, so that the road through the port of Noto becomes the only way to connect the east and west of southern Sicily.

Count Don Sanchod had been secretly surprised that the Wallachians had taken such a quick occupation of this key place in southern Sicily, but now, seeing that the Wallachians had abandoned Port Noto so happily, especially the occupation of the road, the Count was somewhat glad that the enemy relied too much on cavalry.

Although it was late at night, the Aragonese army did not rest in camp, and according to the Count's orders, they occupied the road in front of the town along the east-west direction of the heights, and in order to be able to take the initiative in the second day of fighting, the Count even came to the front line himself, and urged the soldiers to dig trenches all night.

A glimmer of dawn floated on the sea in the east, and a light suddenly appeared in the originally dark world as if it had been lit up, and the winter sun was red but cold, even in this originally warm Mediterranean Sea, the wind blowing from the sea surface looked cold and biting on the face.

A red ball slowly floated from under the water, the inky blue water gradually dyed rosy red, and the bright light streaked across the beach, docks, harbors and highlands in the direction of the interior, and gradually the darkness receded and the light came.

Count Don Sanjod dusted the dew off his body, he was no longer young, even a few years older than Ferdinand, so the hard work of spending the night in the wilderness was no small ordeal for him.

However, looking at the trenches that had been dug in a hurry, the Count was somewhat relieved.

Yesterday's setback apparently did not discourage the Count, and no one knew that he had sent to Calibo, where he had left behind a guard of more than 100 men, but that was not for the purpose of defending the port of Calibo, but to make contact with the returning Aragonese fleet.

According to the reports of the flotilla transporting the expeditionary force, the Aragonese fleet was on its way back, so if they diverted to Noto, the situation might be more favorable than before.

Count Don Sanchord thought so and took a sip of the coffee handed by the servant next to him, although he did not like this bitter drink very much, but it seemed that it was becoming more and more popular in the Castilian court nowadays.

Perhaps we should learn the so-called exquisiteness well, and perhaps in the future everyone will soon be more graceful in the luxurious court of Barriariddod.

Don Sanjod thought so with a slight smile on his lips, the defeat of the previous day did not affect his mood, and when he received the report of the imminent return of the Aragonese fleet, he already knew that the victory of the expedition would not be decided by the battle on land, but by the battle at sea.

The coalition forces did not have the strength to compete with the Aragonese fleet at sea, so the final victory or defeat of this war was actually predestined at the beginning.

Maybe the Queen of Naples will be able to withdraw from Sicily sooner rather than later, but then she will have to pay the price for her previous stupidity, and she will probably be ordered to lead an expedition against Naples again, but it seems that it may not be enough to wait for that time to solve everything in Sicily.

Count Don Sanchod pondered this, and his gaze was on the Wallachian army that had loomed in the distance.

A few heavy muskets were mounted on the wooden stands erected in front of the trenches, and the shooters behind waited patiently.

The transposition of the attacking and defending sides had restored the morale of the Aragonese army, and Count Don Sanchord was more in anticipation when he looked at the Wallachians running back and forth in the distance.

Although he felt that the enemy would not take the initiative to attack when he was outnumbered, the count still hoped for a "miracle".

What the Aragonese did not expect was that as the cavalry in the distance gradually lined up, a continuous trumpet sounded among the Wallachians.

"My lord, they're going to ...... Offensive? ”

Feeling so incredulous that the officer who asked this sentence with a skeptical face looked at Don Sanchod in a stunned manner, and when he saw the Count's eyes narrowed slightly, the officer could not help but look back at the Wallachians in the distance.

From the Aragonese the Wallachians on the opposite side seemed to be preparing for an attack, with groups of cavalry running back and forth, and some people rushing between the gaps in the cavalry ranks with two light cavalry cannons drawn by horses.

The sabers glittered in the morning light, and the Wallachians formed a long horizontal line in front of the position, though it was evident that their depth would inevitably become very shallow in order to widen the front.

Count Don Sanjod raised his hand and pointed to what seemed to be a protrusion on the right side of the enemy line.

Behind the Wallachians, one could see someone pushing several gun wagons that had unloaded their pack horses moving slowly.

An officer immediately let out a sharp whistle, and his men heard the whistle and began to concentrate in that direction with him.

"Remember to keep an eye on that place as soon as the battle begins, and it seems that the Wallachians want to attack us from that direction with artillery."

The Count instructed his men to try to make himself look relaxed, but somehow the Wallachian's unusual behavior still made him feel a little uneasy.

Even the most mediocre generals knew how unwise it was to attack an enemy with superior forces, or rather sheer stupidity, which the Wallachians did in the middle of nowhere.

Don Sanchod felt that there should be something in this that he had overlooked, or that there was some conspiracy of the enemy, but he could not remember what it was for a moment.

Even at great cost, the Aragonese were able to lose more than they could, while the Wallachians were bound to get worse and worse.

Don Sanchod looked in the direction of the enemy's position, his eyes filled with confusion, and then he secretly suppressed the apprehension in his heart.

The Wallachians began to move, and there was a slight commotion in the Aragonese positions, but soon the front stabilized.

Don Sanchod placed his army on the side of the road, and with the winding terrain of Moon Bay behind him, the Aragonese front was like a slightly raised arc.

"Don't let them be confused," Don Sanchod told his men to tell his men, "if they retreat, let them go, and don't pursue them lightly, but don't let any enemy who approaches the line escape." ”

Don Sanchod could not help but look in the direction of the enemy, believing that the Wallachians were going to use their speed to destroy their own line of battle, and then take the opportunity to destroy them piecemeal.

"Not this time," Don Sanchod whispered to himself, slowly raising his hand as he watched the Wallachians gradually form an offensive formation in front of his line.

The heavy musketeers were immediately prepared, they had been told that they might face a charge from the Wallachian light cavalry today, which sounded a little dangerous, but the heavy musketeers were slightly relieved at the sight of the rows of spearmen who were already in the trenches ready to move forward.

The ground shook, and the Wallachian hussars began to run back and forth along the edge of the position a little farther away.

The Aragonese soldiers clenched their weapons as they stared at the enemy on the other side, vigilantly guarding against their movements.

When cavalry attacks the infantry formation, most of them are more likely to harass and use their strong mobility to pull the enemy's formation, and then take the opportunity to find a gap to quickly divide the enemy.

Developed in the days of Alexander the Great, this style was once the only way to play cavalry tactics in Europe, but with the advent of the age of knighthood, fearless charges against the enemy became the only sign of bravery.

This so-called bravery, which was brought to the extreme by the French, did not change dramatically until Agincourt was knocked to the ground with the knights.

A group of Wallachians finally began to attack the Aragonese position, and instead of rushing directly at the enemy, they first swept diagonally along the edge of the enemy's position, and then suddenly thrust into the gap in the Aragonese position, which was shaken by their maneuvering!

"Shooting~"

One after another, orders rang out from the position, and the roar of heavy muskets instantly resounded over the position.

Several Wallachians fell to the ground with their guns, and the horses that had lost their masters neighed and continued to run forward with the procession, and when they saw the spears in front of them, they instinctively stood up in fear of danger, but this did not change the fate of being pierced by the oncoming blades.

"Spearmen march!"

Such orders began to sound on the battlefield, and as the Wallachians suffered setbacks in their offensive, the Aragonese began to counterattack.

Heavy artillery fire rang out from the Wallachian positions, and the shells flew through the open space between the two sides and penetrated into the Aragonese positions, smashing a series of shallow craters into the ground.

However, this did not pose much of a threat to the Aragonese, and at the same time a group of Aragonese soldiers, who had been impatient at Don Sanchod's orders, began to approach the artillery positions in Wallachia under the cover of their companions on both sides.

"These barbarians don't seem to be much worse than the Catalans, at least we're fighting an enemy worthy of the name." Don Sanchod said this to his men, and it was only then that the Count breathed a sigh of relief as the Wallachians finally attacked.

The battle has begun, just as once a horse has set its foot and galloped, nothing can stop it.

A fight is inevitable.

The Wallachians apparently still wanted to find the enemy's weak spots by constantly moving quickly, and they ran up and down the position, trying again and again to storm the gaps in the enemy's position, but the result was nothing but a head-on attack from the Aragonese.

A few shells landed in the ranks of the Aragonese, and the screams of those who were hit were terrifying, but the Wallachian artillery was finally forced to retreat under the constant approach of the Aragonese.

Don Sanchod let out a sigh of relief, then remembered his previous worries, and couldn't help but smile at his nervousness.

On the Wallachian position, Sophia stared at the battlefield, her hands trembling slightly under her cloak, and a book that she had already grasped and distorted made a soft tearing sound in her hand.

"Your Highness, you should get out of here quickly." The attendants around him anxiously dissuaded, and at the same time kept looking at the imperial advisor next to him, they were waiting for Bodeped's hint that they would be desperate to force Sophia away from the battlefield if the old Greek man allowed it.

As if sensing the squire's thoughts, Sophia turned her head to look at Bodpade, then back to the battlefield.

No one knew what was written in the book she was holding, not even Sophia herself, who couldn't read it at all.

The book was given to her by Alexander, and although she had made up her mind to study the contents of the book, every time she listened to someone next to her read it to her, Sophia finally ended the painful experience with drowsiness.

But at this time, a sentence in the long essay called "The Book of Generals" appeared in her heart very magically.

"Once the determination to fight is set, it cannot be easily shaken, and the key to victory in a hard-fought battle may be who can hold out for the last five minutes."

"Ah~" Sophia finally raised her hand with determination, and when she saw her action, the people around her couldn't help but look different.

Bodpade's body moved, and he noticed that several of the attendants next to him were already eager to try, but seeing His Highness the Grand Duke's eyes staring at the battlefield motionlessly, the Greeks couldn't help but hesitate.

And at this moment, Sophia also turned her head to look at him.

"You've decided?" Bodped asked in a low voice, and seeing Sophia nodding silently, the Greek reluctantly took a step back.

As Sophia's raised arm swung down vigorously, the dragoon guards who had been waiting nearby mounted their horses, and they first carefully checked the short muskets they carried, and with the sound of whistles, the guards began to move forward slowly.

"Look, my lord!"

One of the attendants, standing behind the position, suddenly pointed to a cloud of smoke rising in the distance, and shouted to Don Sanchod, "It's the Wallachians!" ”

Although there were many Wallachians, this man immediately caught everyone's attention as soon as he spoke.

They all knew that the Wallachians that this attendant was talking about were the same Wallachian troops that had inflicted heavy losses on them the previous day in port Noto and outside the town.

"They're going to charge, my lord." The good-eyed attendant shouted again, and many people stood on tiptoe to look at the enemy soldier who had suddenly entered the battlefield.

"This is probably the Grand Duke's last bargaining chip," Don Sanchod said with a smile to his men, "well, let's see if they can hold us back again." ”

The trumpets sounded, and the Aragonese army began to emerge from behind the trenches.

The long queue gradually shrank inward from the outward arching crescent, and the Andant cavalry on either side was already eager to attack the enemy's flank, their eyes shining with excitement, and the honor of being a cavalry made them eager to go head-to-head with a powerful enemy.

The dragoons began to jog, their speed was not fast, and when the leader at the front kept blowing the characteristic whistle, everyone neatly raised the short muskets in their hands, and they began to gradually change directions, all the muskets were pointing in one direction, and at this moment the coverage of the fire reached its peak.

The fierce gunfire resounded through the battlefield in an instant, and the side of the Dragoon Guards was almost completely enveloped in the smoke from the muzzle of the guns, and before the smoke cleared, the guards who had already drawn their sabers broke through the billowing smoke and shouted towards the Aragonese.

"Win." Don Sanchord laughed, and although the shot almost knocked out a gap in the front of the Aragonese soldiers, the troops behind immediately blocked it.

"Let's attack." Don Sanchod gave the order, knowing that with the devotion of this elite force, the Grand Duchess of Wallachia had staked all the chips in her hand, and it was time for him to reap the fruits of victory.

The drums beat over the Aragonese position, and the last group of sword and shield men also carried their heavy shields and one-handed swords on their backs, then took off their heavy heavy swords and began to move forward.

The offensive on all fronts of Aragon began.

"Ah......h

Seeing Aragorn's flag move, Sophia, who was standing behind the position, sighed softly, and her hand hidden in her cloak stretched out, looking at the book that had been crumbled in her hand, her face showed a distressed look.

"The key to victory in a hard-fought battle may be who can hold out for the last five minutes."

Sophia silently recited the only words she remembered in her heart, and a smile crossed her tired face.

In the last five minutes, I did it. Sophia looked up proudly at the high ground in the distance.

The golden sun shone brightly, and beneath that dazzling sunlight, a flag slowly appeared on the high ground.

Immediately afterward, a continuous trumpet sounded.

The Coalition of Trade Unions appeared behind the flanks of the Aragonese.