When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#163 - Long Bridge, Bloody Road! (3)

Swallowing an entire bottle of Khan's Elixir and applying Divine Oil to his temples, Friscia closed his eyes for two seconds, allowing the effects to take hold.

His body slightly reddened, he looked behind him, where the other knights had also completed their pre-battle preparations.

"Warriors, follow me to the charge!"

Pointing his longsword forward, Friscia shook the reins. His steed exhaled a hot, white vapor and began to run.

Before arriving, they had fed their horses fodder soaked in Rage Potion and Hemostatic Potion, trying to alleviate the fear in these intelligent creatures' hearts as much as possible.

The silver moonlight was shattered by the horses' hooves. Due to the width of the road, the fifty knights formed a rhombus-shaped charge formation.

From a trot at the end of the road, they gradually accelerated until the wind whistled through their armor, producing a clanging metallic sound.

The congealed air flowed, and the long plumes on their helmets were blown from side to side by the gale.

As the frequency of the horses' hooves hitting the ground increased, the horses neighed, and the knights arched their backs, raising their knightly swords.

"Knights, they're super-powered knights!"

The scout on the roof shouted anxiously below.

The rioters and mercenaries still in the midst of the melee paused simultaneously at some moment. The stones on the ground trembled, and beyond the slightly arched ground, dozens of knights strikingly appeared in sight.

"Saint Sarpedon!"

Standing up on his warhorse, Friscia loudly shouted the knights' patron saint.

Under normal circumstances, when cavalry charge infantry formations, they fear falling into the enemy ranks after the horse's speed decreases.

Because in this surrounded situation, it is difficult to break out, especially when wearing heavy armor and being inflexible.

But with super-powered strength, the willingness of cavalry to charge infantry formations greatly increases.

Because even if they fall from their horses, those mortals still cannot break their defense. They have enough endurance to support them in holding their ground or directly fighting their way out.

In the early days, the knights' opponents were either peasant soldiers or skeleton soldiers. At that time, the knights did not have any of the currently popular cavalry tactics, just one word—reckless.

After the great development of the mercenary industry and the emergence of professional mercenary infantry, the benefits of knights directly charging infantry formations became much smaller.

Especially in the Battle of Windmill Land, the King of Fran spent a lot of money sweeping the Imperial mercenary market, giving Leia's knights a good lesson with 98k professional mercenaries.

Since then, knights have rarely directly charged formations in wars.

Friscia didn't want to be too impolite, but he never thought what he was facing was a war.

Under the influence of Khan's Elixir, Friscia's balance ability was greatly enhanced. He drew the longsword from his waist:

"Farmers, pray to the gods of the heretics, and see if they will come to save you!"

In the billowing dust, fifty knights crashed directly into the rioters' formation.

"Quick, get out of the way—"

"I'm a mercenary, I'm on your side! Ah—"

"Dog knights!"

The dense smell of iron rust instantly exploded, and a series of wails immediately rang out in the formation.

His elbow trembling, Colton exhaustedly pulled the spear from the mercenary's chest.

He took a step back, just wanting to catch his breath, but he heard an old voice shout:

"Careful!"

Colton was grabbed by the back of his collar and pulled backward. A black shadow flashed past, and he could clearly see that it was a body, or rather a corpse.

Following the direction from which it flew, Colton looked over there, and his whole person was stunned.

In the moonlight-filled sky, three or four rioters were sent flying by the high-speed impact of the warhorses, their bodies drawing an arc in the air.

Fifty super-powered knights smoothly cut through the rioters' formation from the side like a hot knife through butter.

The faces under their helmets revealed a ferocious smile in their delight. They waved the knightly swords in their hands, allowing the high-speed galloping horses to cut through one small body after another.

A clear wave of blood advanced along the cutting edge of the wedge formation. Behind the horses' hooves, one body after another, with their chests, abdomens, backs torn open by longswords, or even directly beheaded, slowly fell.

"Bang—"

One rioter couldn't dodge. Even though the horse's speed had slowed down during the impact, he was still knocked backward and flew, sliding four or five meters on the ground, landing right at Colton's feet.

Colton immediately squatted down, turned over the rioter's body, wanting to rescue him, but just as he turned the person's body over, his movements stopped again.

The rioter's chest had already caved in, and the blood-wrapped ribs pierced through the gray-white skin. His throat could only emit a wheezing sound like a broken bellows.

Looking at that broken and emaciated body, Colton didn't know what to do for a moment.

"Give him a quick death."

The tall, sturdy old man who had grabbed Colton earlier pulled the arming sword from the neck of a nearby mercenary and turned to shout at Colton, "He's beyond saving."

Lowering his head, looking at those pleading eyes, Colton turned his head away and cut the throat of the rioter in front of him with that dark and blurry short sword.

Standing up, Colton looked around.

Giant silver-armored knights were frantically charging and killing, longswords cutting open one innocent body after another. The blood had already made the ground sticky and wet, making it difficult to stand firmly.

Amidst the screams and cries of the rioters, he remembered the terror of the super-powered knights.

Colton was momentarily at a loss. Were the knights really so invincible?

"Bang!"

The sound of a holy gun firing came from the left, followed by the mournful cry of a warhorse before its death.

Recovering from his confusion, Colton's expression brightened. That's right, there were still invincible holy gunners.

Dodging the rioters running back and forth around him, he held his spear and rushed towards the source of the sound.

In the crowd, Colton indeed saw a warhorse with its body pierced by iron pellets, its huge body lying horizontally on the ground, convulsing.

But when he arrived, he didn't see the dead knight. On the ground was only a dying warhorse, the headless corpse of a soldier in black, and a wind-up gun broken by a horse's hoof.

Although the sound of wind-up guns firing rang out continuously in the air, the knights, having learned their lesson once, immediately became alert. They dispersed their formation and turned into teams of five.

Those knights were extremely fast, like nimble dogs in the mountains. The wind-up gun was a shotgun, after all, and its accuracy was poor, and the iron pellets couldn't turn corners.

After several shots, apart from accidentally injuring many of their own people, there were no results.

Colton looked towards the side of the road. In the blink of an eye, the super-powered knights had cut through the rioters' formation and arrived on the other side of the road.

And another wedge formation composed of fifty knights was gradually taking shape at the end of the road.

"We have to retreat. The roads here are too wide and flat. We need to get to the bridge." The tall, sturdy white-haired old man pushed through the crowd and appeared next to Victor without anyone noticing.

Although Victor didn't recognize him, he had seen him come with the rioters earlier and had also killed several mercenaries, so he replied:

"No, the bridge is narrower. If they charge, we'll have nowhere to hide."

"If we don't return to the bridge, we'll die being attacked from both sides." The old man grabbed his collar, and the black-clothed soldier next to him immediately held a short sword against the old man's protruding lumbar disc. "Go from the bridge, concentrate them together, they can't avoid that lightning rod on the bridge."

"What about the rest of these people? They won't have time to retreat."

"Then we can only wish them good luck." The old man said coldly.

"Commander Victor, His Majesty uses a longbow to airdrop a command, ordering us to retreat back to the bridge."

Looking at the super-powered knights re-forming their ranks on the left, and then looking back at another team of super-powered knights ready to go, Victor gritted his teeth and said, "Retreat! Holy gunners and edict squads cover our retreat!"

Under the leadership of the child soldiers and veteran soldiers, the Salvation Army began to retreat slowly, but there were still three or four hundred people who were engaged in battle and couldn't leave, so they had to stay on the other side of the river.

The old man stood at the head of the bridge. He looked at the crowded people, and the eyes under his hood lit up. He reached out and aimed at the ground, his mouth trembling slightly. Almost instantly, the air suddenly became humid.

In the blink of an eye, a wall of fog covering the street near the head of the bridge rose out of nowhere. Taking off his hood, the old man named Pasrik took a deep look at the knights and walked into the wall of fog.

Friscia, who was about to launch a second charge, had to rein in his warhorse and cursed, "Where did this fog come from!"