Chapter 1436 - 771: The Cruel Battlefield (Part 2)

Chapter 1436: Chapter 771: The Cruel Battlefield (Part 2)

When they left, they faced Hamlet’s central front directly, without any gaps, but rather a line of shields advancing.

In fact, those nobles had studied muskets, so they equipped some people with shields.

And they weren’t just typical wooden shields, but full-body shields lined with iron plates, chosen for the strong ones who could carry them.

These shield bearers charged forward, heads down, shields up, moving slowly but with the purpose of providing cover for the archers, crossbowmen, and musketeers behind them.

They finally entered their firing range.

This meant that the nobles knowingly pushed ordinary soldiers forward to deplete resources, just to conceal the real longbowmen’s approach, protecting the elite units.

Now that they were within the range of bows and crossbows, they became useless and were driven to spread out to the sides.

As for those dead serf soldiers, who cared? They were just there to deplete resources, and once they’re all dead, another five thousand could be gathered.

In this round, even the musketeers hiding behind the large shields began to rain arrows on the musket array.

The arrow volley, far denser than that of longbowmen, fell among the musketeers here, realizing that there were no fortifications, resisting now was no longer bravery, but foolishness.

"Watch out! Raise shields!"

"Defensive positions!"

Upon discovering the archers and crossbowmen appearing from behind the shields, some musketeers put down their muskets, raised their kite shields on their backs, overlapping them to form a shield wall at the front and top.

The sound of arrows clattering, without heavy longbow arrows, the ordinary arrows found it challenging to pierce armor at a distance of fifty to sixty yards.

But some arrows still penetrated, causing various damages, not to mention the mixed longbow arrows breaking armor.

The injured soldiers quickly checked their situation; the severely injured were dragged away, while some lightly injured treated themselves.

You could see them taking out a bottle of healing potion, drinking it, then pulling out arrows with a cold face, bandaging to stop the bleeding, their grim expressions showing pain, but their actions devoid of hesitation, all first-rate resolute individuals.

The scarier thing was that the potions in their hands were of higher purity, naturally having better effects. After bandaging themselves, they reloaded and shot as if nothing had happened.

The counterattack began, muskets extended to fire, the bullets hitting the shields of the Noble Alliance, but most were blocked.

The lead bullets were still too soft, powerless in front of the specially thickened large shields, breaking apart when hitting the iron plates riveted to the shield faces, leaving dents. Only a few hit those trying to emerge and shoot, causing damage.

The enemies realized this as well, accelerating excitedly, constantly shooting arrows to harass.

Meanwhile, the spear-wielders on both wings also began advancing, like vultures finally extending their necks revealing sharp beaks, spreading wings to encircle the musketeers.

But the issue was, Hamlet’s soldiers were not fighting alone, infantry was just one unit.

"Boom! Boom boom!"

The sound of dense artillery, but not cannons, rather those mortars.

Infantry delayed the advancement, allowing the more flexible twenty mortars to finally arrive.

Loading and firing commenced immediately, throwing bombs into the shooters hiding behind the shields.

The rough initial bombardment inflicted even more damage than several rounds of musket fire.

Because that was fragmentation damage, crossing the defense of shields, indiscriminately killing within ten yards.

"Spread out! Spread out!"

"Don’t stop, charge quickly!"

This scene finally pained the knights, because these were not serf soldiers but the regular army assembled from trusted followers.

But at this stage, there was no option to retreat, they could only charge forward, as long as they dispersed the musket array, victory would be theirs!

The Noble Alliance still had numbers, particularly after spreading out, nearing them, the threatening presence felt more palpable.

Even with full bombardment from mortars, the effects were not great, as the close proximity risked friendly fire, hence after two rounds, they abandoned the frontline, focusing on the ones hiding at the back.

For the Noble Alliance backbone, fifty yards was the boundary, whereas for Hamlet’s side, it was thirty yards, as hand grenades could now be used.

When they rushed in and realized there were no shells overhead, they felt only joy, only to collide with the thrown grenades.

The power was a bit lower, but sheer numbers made up for it, every soldier carried three to four of them, here were over a thousand infantry, that round of tossing had at least a few hundred, falling like rain among them.

The continual overlapping blasts sounded like death knells to the Noble Alliance, even without exploding right beside them, sudden pain dropping them to the ground, nowhere was safe.

Already under high pressure from relentless bombardment, the collapse didn’t require a second round, those serf soldiers yelled wanting to flee, escaping the terrifying battlefield.

The knight tried to stop the rout, but on mere shouts, a shot hit him, despite armor protection, he tumbled as if punched heavily.

The snipers were always mixed in with the shooters, any exposed head or second meant death at this range.

Even if the knight was unscathed, stopping it would be difficult as mortar hits at the back had taken many from the Supervision Team, they too were afraid!

Even getting swept along by the serf soldiers, fleeing with them, some silver coins weren’t worth risking a life...

"Boom!"

A roar several times more intense than mortars sounded, soldiers familiar with artillery realized it was cannon fire, turning to see cannon teams positioning...

At the start, the Noble Alliance knew never to let cannons unleash their power, leaving some knights to command the main force, the rest pressured forward directly.

Using warhorses for direct assault, needing to destroy the cannons before the enemy steadied, just as Hamlet’s infantry tried to block the enemy, the opposition thought similarly.

Reynard obviously wouldn’t watch them rush over, Hamlet Cavalry mobilized, though outnumbered, their assaults entangled the knights enough.

This time, allies didn’t run, be it infantry or cavalry, both bought time for the artillery, Barton quickly led the team to seize the hillside.

Just a few scattered cannons entered position, with a sharp whistle, Reynard seemed to receive a signal, immediately pulling cavalry away from the knights.

Then cannon booms followed, balls crashing into the knight formations, easily ripping through armor, leaving some missing limbs, others with holes punched through, be it knight or horse.

Even a ball merely rolling on the ground, any hoof touched would be twisted off by the force.

Earlier cavalry duels, even with gun hits and falls, never had such a vivid visual impact, as the bloody scenes weren’t visible, but now fear enveloped them.

Because traditionally, such a scene shouldn’t happen to them, it should be on those they charged against.

"Retreat means death, only forward holds life!"

"This is our only chance!"

"Knights, charge!"

Lance imposed too much pressure on them, eliminating even the option of surrender, under such pressure they burst forth with valor.

One stood up, rallying the others instantly into a single force, all unafraid to push towards the positions.

Reynard had earlier opened distance, while artillery was still in the cumbersome loading process, seemingly capturing a fleeting opportunity.

Faster, faster, rushing into positions would render those cannons useless, those guys couldn’t withstand a knight’s charge.

Kill them all and turn to charge down the hill, flanking the musketeers would surely crumble them, victory would be theirs...

Barton looked coldly at the charging knights, no panic visible, only calmly saying.

"Fire."