It was the first time Carter Lannis had seen such a fight.

The huge lineup of more than 300 knights was already crushed without even touching the edge of the defensive line.

In the end, they did not get into the fifty-meter range, which was the line of musket fire drawn by His Highness, and only when they crossed the fifty-meter line were they allowed to fire.

Four artillery pieces stubbornly contained the opponent near the 100-meter line. Between one hundred and fifty to one hundred meters, there were twenty or so corpses lying on the ground, and these people, like themselves, were skilled knights, otherwise they would not have been able to control their horses at high speed despite the roar of artillery fire.

Carter was glad he wasn't one of them. He had a vague premonition that future wars would be very different, and it was only a matter of time before Roland Wimbleton, who wielded such great power, would ascend to the throne.

After seeing the tragic battlefield, a small number of people in the First Army had adverse reactions such as dizziness and vomiting, but because it was not hand-to-hand combat, the sense of shock brought by killing and wounding the enemy with artillery was less than killing the enemy with their own blades, and the reaction symptoms were not serious. Carter picks out a group of hunters from the team who are accustomed to seeing stumps and blood, collects the bodies of the war dead, and searches for those who are still alive.

As the sun set over the mountains, Carter looked at the blood-red sky and the crows in the distant woods, and he suddenly felt a sense of gloom.

The age of knights is over.

......

Duke Ryan hadn't come back to his senses until now.

He didn't understand how he was defeated, and the line of defense was as thin as a cicada's wing, and it was only necessary to stab it lightly, but the knights scattered and fled as if they had seen the devil. He couldn't even blame anyone else, because it was the elite knights under his command who rushed to the front.

The guards cut down several people in succession to keep the swarming mercenaries out of the duke's position, but that was all, no matter how much he roared, he could not restrain the routed men. In desperation, Duke Osmond Lane had no choice but to retreat with the flow of people, and this retreat was nearly ten miles.

It wasn't until nightfall, when the Duke chose a place near the riverbank, that the lost knights and mercenaries approached with the torches, though most of them were still missing. To make matters worse, the freedmen did not hesitate to drop carts and rations during the retreat, so they had to slaughter a few horses tonight to serve as rations.

In the largest tent in the camp, the five nobles gathered together and looked at Duke Ryan with pale faces, and the latter's face was not much better.

"Who's to tell me what new weapons they used, farther away than a crossbow, and not as far as a trebuchet to see the thrown stones," he said, glancing at Wren Dmied, "you were also in the forefront, did you see anything?"

"My lord, I ...... I don't know," Wren propped his head, "and they fell in droves as soon as they heard the roar, especially the last one, when the knight who rushed first seemed to suddenly crash against an invisible wall, and I saw him shake and his head and arms torn apart, like ......" he thought for a moment, "the eggs that fell from the roof of the castle." ”

"Is it a witch?" muttered the Earl of Elk.

"No way," said the Duke with a frown, "my knights are all wearing the Divine Punishment Stone, and there is no way that a witch can hurt them." It's not like you haven't played witches, what's the difference between them and ordinary women in front of the Divine Stone?"

"By the way, my lord," Wren suddenly remembered something, "before I heard the loud noise, I saw several cart-like things in their line-up, with huge iron pipes on them, and red light and smoke coming out of them. ”

"Iron pipes, red light and smoke, isn't that a gift barrel?" said Count Elk, puzzled.

Of course, the duke knew what the gift barrel was, and in the past, only the nobles of the royal capital used it for major celebrations, but now the lords of various places will basically prepare one or two. In his castle there is a pair of bronze ceremonial barrels, which can be exploded when they are added with snow powder. But the sound was too far from today's breathtaking thunder.

"The barrel will not tear the knights apart," said Count Honeysuckle, "whatever weapon the prince wields, we have already been defeated, what shall we do next?"

Duke Ryan glanced at him with displeasure, the word defeat sounded particularly harsh to him, "We have not yet failed," he emphasized, "and the disadvantage of a battle cannot change the final result." As long as I return to the fortress, I can raise another team and cut off trade on the Chishui River. Without food replenishment, the border town will not last for a month. If he dares to bring those villagers out, my knights will be able to crush him from the flanks and from behind. ”

Victory would be his own, he thought, but the losses he suffered were simply not something that a small town could make up for...... Trying to take the North again is almost in vain. Damn it, if we can catch Roland Wimbleton, we'll have to tear him to pieces.

"But my lord, the fleet of ships on the Chishui River is not only from the Changge Fortress, but also from the ships of Willow Leaf Town, Falling Dragon Ridge and Chishui City, if they are all intercepted, will they ......?" Count Honeysuckle hesitated.

"I bought them all, and as long as I paid for them, they sold them to anyone. The Duke said coldly, "Let's go back to the tent and sleep first, and set off early tomorrow morning." The knights who had horses marched with us, and those who did not have horses stayed behind to lead the mercenaries. ”

It was impossible to march at night, and even if the fourth prince intended to pursue, the first thing he encountered was the mercenaries who stayed behind him when he set out at dawn. He thought that even if this group of waste collapsed at the touch of a button, he would be able to buy himself a lot of time.

The next day the Duke received no news from the prince catching up, and in order to confirm the news, he sent his own cronies to expand the scope of the investigation, and the same was done. This made him breathe a sigh of relief, presumably because the new weapon was as difficult to move as a trebuchet, and could only be used in defensive battles. Relying on a group of miners with wooden sticks alone, the prince did not dare to act rashly.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, the Duke ordered the knights to halt their advance and wait for those who were on foot behind to follow. As dusk approached, mercenaries and freedmen began to catch up with the cavalry. Everyone was busy again, and they hastily set up a tent on a piece of land.

After this night, he will be able to reach the fortress of Changge tomorrow - the bluestone wall is like a moat for a force of several hundred people, and even if the opponent has a new weapon with a long range, he can use the trebuchet behind the wall to counterattack. He will definitely settle this account with the prince.

However, what made Duke Lane feel a little uncomfortable was that he always felt like he was being stared at all the way today.

Probably a delusion, he thought, he was too nervous.

The next morning, the Duke was awakened by the sound of cannons.

When he rushed out of the tent, he found everyone scurrying around, and from time to time dirt and blood splattered up, and looked west, the "militiamen" in standard leather armor lined up in a straight line, standing quietly outside the camp. In the midst of the deafening roar, there was only one thought left in the Duke's head - how did they catch up?

Didn't the knight in charge of reconnaissance yesterday spot the pursuers!?

"Lord Duke, go!" shouted the guard, bringing a horse and calling out.

Osmond Lane came to his senses, got on his horse, and galloped east with his guards. However, not long after leaving the camp, they saw another identical force.

The leather armor of the same standard, holding strange short sticks in his hands, arranged in a neat row, even his expression looks the same.

Immediately afterwards, the Duke heard rhythmic music from the opposite side, and His Royal Highness's troops marched towards him in a neat pace. (To be continued.) )