When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#372 - Battle of Black Mountain (XV)

The two Guards Legions standing before Niddersal were the elite of the elite.

Unlike the Black Hats, who widely recruited prisoners of war and former Imperial soldiers, the Guards' primary requirement was loyalty.

Therefore, the commanders of these two legions were both from Red Mill Village. Das, the commander of the First Guards Legion, was Hohn's cousin, and Mengse, the commander of the Second Guards Legion, was the king of the kids in Red Mill Village.

Their core members, the brigade and division commanders, were mostly old Papal Guards from the Gulag era.

However, considering that half of the old Papal Guards back then were elderly people, women, infants, or even dogs, the actual number of Papal Guard members was not that large.

In terms of specific war monks, the Guards only recruited believers with no criminal record, a clean family background, and excellent physical fitness.

The Papal State invested nearly 30% more in political education and material supplies for the Guards than for the Black Hats. Correspondingly, their training was more rigorous and their discipline more strict than that of the Black Hats.

Problems such as extortion, petty theft, and bullying, which frequently occurred in the Black Hats, were tacitly approved by senior officers like Victor.

As long as there was no egregious robbery, rape, or homicide, these war monks would at most be confined for a few days.

If similar behavior occurred in the Guards, the military police would not hesitate to administer a whipping. In severe cases, they would even be sentenced or hanged for desertion.

Therefore, the Guards had always been known for their strict discipline and long training hours. The two Guards Legions stationed at headquarters, in theory, had not even completed their training yet.

In contrast, the war monks of the Guards were all from good families and naturally despised those Black Hat soldiers who had lost their higher tastes.

This contempt stemmed not only from a sense of moral superiority but also from the pride brought about by the Guards' reputation.

Even though their hearts were pounding rapidly from the sight of the charging Nicosacs, driven by this sense of pride, they were still able to orderly and uniformly perform the firing of their holy muskets.

Loading lead bullets into the musket barrels, the Guards uniformly pulled out their ramrods, pushing the bullets deep into the barrels.

Twisting the winding key until the pawl clicked after ten rotations, and the trigger popped up, these elite war monks leveled their holy muskets and rested them on the gun racks.

Viewed from the side, if one disregarded the height differences, they almost looked like one person.

This was vastly different from the way the Black Hats fired their holy muskets; they were much more relaxed.

The Black Hats did not strictly follow the Holy Book. Some used ramrods, while others simply slammed the butt of the musket on the ground a few times, using inertia to drop the bullets into the bottom of the barrel.

As long as they could form a line for volley fire before firing, that was enough.

"Close in to the center, counter-charge! First rank, angle upwards! Second and third ranks, raise your guns!" Mengse's voice was incredibly hoarse. He licked his somewhat pale lips and issued the order.

"Right foot forward, one and a half steps!"

At the command, the spearmen in the first rank took a large step forward in unison, their left and right feet forming a perpendicular T-stance.

The spear monks lowered their bodies until their right calf and thigh were almost at a ninety-degree angle, their entire posture resembling a taut bow.

Fifty spears were lowered in unison, the spear shafts gripped firmly with both hands, the front ends level with the spearmen's eyes, and the rear ends resting against the arches of their left feet.

The spearmen in the second rank gripped the ends of their spears, the front hand gripping overhand, and the shaft resting in the crook of their arms.

The shaft seemed to be embraced by the spear monks, held close to their chests, while the rear hand also gripped the end overhand.

The spearmen in the third rank stood staggered with the first rank, adopting the same posture.

The fourth rank pointed their spears forward at a small angle, almost perpendicular to the ground, ready to lower them and assume the same posture as the front ranks at any moment.

This was the Guards' exclusive counter-charge formation for dealing with cavalry.

The two hundred holy musket men on the flanks knelt in the front rank and stood in the second rank, preparing to aim.

The holy musket men in the rear three ranks held the wooden stocks with their right hands, resting the barrels against their shoulders and collarbones, ready to step forward and fire at any time.

Standing on the side of the spear formation, the veins on Mengse's hand, gripping the feathered spear, bulged. He was forcibly suppressing his excitement and fear.

But perhaps due to the rapidly secreted adrenaline, his body was trembling slightly.

In the smoke and dust, he could hear the footsteps of the guards behind him and see the dust kicked up by the Nicosacs in front of him.

He didn't know if Das could hold back the enemy's 1200-man infantry column with 500 men, but regardless of whether he could hold them or not, his only goal was to prevent these Nicosacs from advancing an inch.

Behind him were Das's allied forces, the newly built beautiful homeland, and the ordinary believers still suffering in Gold Creek Township.

He must not let them cross even a fraction.

"One hundred and twenty paces!" the scout responsible for observation shouted from the tree towards Mengse.

"Aim!"

The dark muzzles of the muskets were aimed at the approaching Nicosacs, but the Nicosacs did not continue to throw their javelins.

They each carried only six javelins and had used up most of them in the previous battle, so they had to use them sparingly.

"Lie down! The enemy is about to unleash the Devil's Wind!"

The Nicosacs in the front row shouted in terror. Before the lead bullets even arrived, they had already lowered their proud heads and pressed them against the soft manes of their warhorses.

"Scatter! Scatter!"

Even the Sand Sculpture Knight Niddersal was no exception. Although he wore white crystal steel armor, which would only leave a pit at a slightly greater distance,

But if fired at close range, like the close-range shooting of the holy musket cavalry, it would still penetrate the armor, and he dared not gamble.

A series of screams rose from the enemy lines, piercing Niddersal's eardrums with pain.

He buried his head, and lead bullets flew past his side like locusts. The Nicosacs all lowered their heads.

From time to time, Niddersal would hear a scream, and Nicosacs with blood spurting from their bodies would fall from their horses.

Or there would be a warhorse's wail, throwing the knight on its back forward.

This time, the Devil's Wind blew exceptionally long. Previously, most of the time, the Nicosacs had already charged to the front line after only three volleys.

But how far had they charged this time? They had already taken five volleys of fire. Many Nicosacs thought the Devil's Wind was over and had just raised their heads when they were shot through the brain with lead bullets.

The corpses of Nicosac knights fell to the ground one after another. Niddersal felt his heart bleeding.

These were all painstakingly raised with so much cost. For this, he had even betrayed two gods to some extent at the same time.

He regretted it a little. He was doing well in the Copper Fortress. Why did he have to wade into this muddy water?

The smoke and dust obscured Niddersal's eyes. In the haze, he clearly saw the holy musket men.

They were like a revolving conveyor belt. One person turned and left, and the people behind them stepped forward in unison, put down their gun racks, raised their guns, and fired.

The time from firing to completing the rotation did not exceed ten seconds.

After five rows of holy musket men fired, 200 lead bullets took away exactly fifty charging Nicosacs.

Raising his head from between the manes, Niddersal put a bottle in his mouth, drank the potion in it, and shouted, "Charge! Continue charging! Five gold pounds and a woman for each man after the battle!"

The previously listless Nicosacs cheered up again, but still seven or eight people quietly left the formation.

The Nicosacs on the flanks were blown by the holy wind. Due to the companions rolling on the ground and the wailing warhorses, they had to move closer to the center.

This formed a dense charging formation, directly breaking open the horizontal formation in front of them.

If there was no other way, Niddersal would never charge towards such a tight infantry formation.

He did not doubt whether he could break through this thin six-row gun formation. Countless battlefield experiences summarized by the Imperials proved that at least twelve or fifteen rows of gun formations were needed to stop the full-speed charge of the Banner Knights.

But even to pass through these six rows of spearmen, it would definitely cost no small number of Nicosacs.

But what could he do? He could only charge!

Just as Niddersal's face gradually became ferocious, he suddenly heard the Sand Sculpture warning sound from the sky.

Was it a fire ball crossbow? Niddersal glanced at it. It shouldn't be able to hit him from that position and angle.

Putting his eyes back on the front, although Niddersal and his men had slowed down a lot after a wave of volley fire, they were still approaching the front of the Black Hats.

He strangely noticed that the holy musket men suddenly stepped to the sides, and two tubes wrapped in leather extended from the formation.

"What is that?" A Nicosac wiped the sweat flowing down his eyelids and asked in confusion.