When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#278 - The Battle of Pavia!!

At the very last moment before the Ibe knights reached the thin line on the left flank, the Imperial Guard First Legion appeared on the front lines of the battlefield, moving against the tide of people.

From start to finish, the Imperial Guard First Legion, serving as the general reserve, finally arrived on the battlefield.

Several fully armored lancer brigades stood at the forefront, wielding the sharpest spears and carrying throwing axes at their waists.

The lancers advanced in columns, like long snakes covered in thorns, piercing into the enemy ranks and instantly tearing apart the Night Watch's formation.

Two rows of spears stabbed furiously, and before the front-line Night Watch soldiers could react, they fell in unison with the synchronized thrusts.

The Imperial Guard First Legion surged forward like a flood, gradually devouring all the infantry in its path.

They rode the wave of blood, sweeping forward.

The Holy Gunners advanced with precise and mechanical firing, like a revolving conveyor belt, except they delivered spurts of blood, wails, and screams.

Of the hundreds of Ibe knights who had charged, nearly twenty were shot down even before they could complete a single rotation.

At their leader's shouted command to wheel around, these Ibe knights did not turn left or right, but smoothly wheeled back.

Forty carefully selected Holy Gunners, carrying ten large-bore hand cannons, stood behind all the other Holy Gunners, awaiting their destined enemies.

Holding Bloodveil, Horne, in three-quarter armor, walked in the center of the formation.

Beside him, Armand stood tall, holding the Pope's solar banner high, his fingers digging into the flagpole.

Under the gaze of almost everyone on the battlefield, the Imperial Guard First Legion firmly and silently plugged the gap on the left flank.

"I said it!" Horne's voice was exceptionally clear on the noisy battlefield, as if entering not the ears but the mind, "With you, we live; with you, we die."

"For victory!"

Someone shouted loudly, as if starting a chant, and all the War Monks echoed.

"For victory!"

"For revenge!"

"For freedom!"

In the midst of these shouts, the atmosphere of despair gradually changed, and the War Monks who had been retreating stopped in their tracks.

Monks on stretchers in the rear propped themselves up with their spears.

A chaplain picked up a helmet from the ground and put it on his head.

The Protectors picked up broken swords and stones from the ground, filling the positions of the original War Monks.

The Pope's banner seemed to have an aura of +5% morale, and all the War Monks who could see the banner became unusually ferocious.

Within three minutes of the Imperial Guard First Legion arriving and plugging the gap, the previously steadily retreating situation suddenly stabilized and even began to push back.

Seeing that the Salvation Army was not collapsing, the Night Watch soldiers immediately teetered on the brink of collapse.

Their only hope lay with Bo'ole on the other side.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Bo'ole, overjoyed at seeing Horne's banner, almost fell off his horse.

"Holy Father, Holy Father, I thank you, I thank you." He raised his hands to the rain clouds in the sky, picked up his crucifix pendant, and kissed it repeatedly.

"Sir, the knights haven't finished gathering..."

"What are you waiting for, squire knights?" Bo'ole laughed heartily, waving his riding crop with high spirits, "The Edict Company, charge with me!"

64 Edict Knights, 52 Banner Knights, and 71 squire knights—this was basically the remaining core strength of the Edict Company.

Breaking through those farmers' squares would be enough.

The last bottle of horsepower-enhancing potion was poured into the warhorses' mouths, and the knights could clearly feel the bulging of their warhorses' muscles as they became engorged with blood.

"Quick march!"

187 of Laya's top-tier transcendent knights advanced quickly and rhythmically in the rain.

"Run!"

Everything around them blurred—bushes, streams, standing Night Watch soldiers, and armored sergeants—while the black-clad soldiers in front of them became increasingly clear.

"Charge!"

With lances lowered, the Edict Knights, under the influence of the potion, lost all fear; they stood tall and raised their lances.

Lead bullets flew like locusts, striking the knights' bodies, some causing injuries, others causing them to fall from their horses, but their speed did not decrease in the slightest.

For a thousand years, for a hundred years, the glory of the knights had been shattered by the Church, shattered by merchants, shattered by mercenaries, but they would never allow it to be shattered by the most inferior of the unclean, the most humble of farmers.

"The Edict Company is charging! It's stable, it's stable!" The armored sergeants shouted to the Night Watch soldiers on the verge of collapse, "Hold on, just hold on a little longer."

As the monster-like Edict Knights charged, Horne was also moving forward.

However, he was forcibly stopped after only reaching the third row, prevented from advancing any further.

Through the gaps between heads, he could see the charging Edict Knights, like a black tide shaking the earth.

Horne did not know if it was he who was trembling or the soldiers in the front row who were trembling.

Who could not tremble?

When a group of heavy objects, weighing tons, charged at people at a speed of 8 meters per second.

These fully armored transcendent War Monks, with a breathing technique that was at most at the third stage, who could not be afraid?

The Edict Knights were bound to come sooner or later; there was no avoiding them.

Horne knew this well; if they did not defeat these Edict Knights, they would never achieve victory.

The most important tactic in all tactics was to fight to the death; if they ran out of ammunition, they ran out of ammunition; if they were done for, they were done for.

Horne suddenly saw a figure flash before his eyes, a figure launching a charge against 2,700 knights.

What he had faced back then was so similar to what they were facing now.

"You damned devils—"

Horne's roar, seemingly capable of burning away the rain clouds, resounded in everyone's ears.

"If you want the lives of those poor Thousand Valley people, then come and get them!"

Standing tall, Horne pointed Bloodveil at the Edict Company, which was kicking up countless splashes of mud.

"Come on! Break my spine! Pierce my heart! Cut off my head!"

"Before that—"

"You shall not pass this point!"

The hoarse roar made Bo'ole feel slightly uncomfortable; he seemed to have heard similar words before, but he could not remember them.

It must have been a similar wail from some defeated person.

He could not continue to recall; the shining double-row lance formation was close at hand.

"Holy Lord protect us!"

"Hah—"

The Edict Knights let out a deafening war cry, crashing head-on into the Salvation Army's square formation on the left flank.

Hard horse armor collided with spears and infantry plate armor; metal twisted, sparks flew, and lances and spears exploded simultaneously.

Amid the flying wooden shards, the first two rows of ten or so War Monks tumbled through the air like released kites.

Among the first row of Edict Knights, seven or eight knights were immediately thrown backward from their horses by the impact, falling heavily to the ground.

Those seven or eight Edict Knights all stood up after a moment, while only half of the War Monks who had been thrown out could still stand up and continue fighting.

They were, after all, fully armored low-level transcendents, and compared to the Edict Knights, who had charged many times, these Imperial Guard War Monks still had considerable stamina.

However, the flood of steel did not stop; the metal torrent rubbed against the ground, making a clanging noise, and more than a dozen Imperial Guard War Monks were thrown out again.

Horne only felt the spear in his hand explode suddenly, and his whole body uncontrollably soared backward.

After reliving the feeling of melting into the blue sky, he fell into the arms of the Varangian Guards.

The Edict Knights' task was to break through the square formation and advance towards the final location of the solar banner.

They probably never expected that the ordinary War Monk who had been sent flying in one second was actually the Pope himself.

Struggling to stand up, Horne was stunned.

Before his eyes was a surge of countless figures and flesh.

Not only the Imperial Guard First Legion, but also the two Black Hat Legions and the Protectors, who had been recuperating in the rear, had squeezed over.

Thrown away again and again, and reforming the battle line again and again, they used their hands, feet, and teeth to bite.

A battle line made of flesh and blood, countless Imperial Guard War Monks actively rushed forward, just to slightly reduce the charging speed of the Edict Knights.

"For victory!"

The first thing a War Monk did upon waking up from being knocked unconscious was to continue charging towards the Edict Knights.

The Holy Gunners, having exhausted their holy power, pulled out the arming swords or battle axes at their waists and launched a melee attack on the Edict Knights.

They lost all sense of time; perhaps it was a few short seconds, or perhaps it was a few long minutes.

When Bo'ole could clearly see the banner carrier holding the solar banner, he realized that although it was only a few steps away, it was still unattainable.

"Stopped?" His helmet knocked off, Bo'ole lowered his head with disheveled hair and asked himself in a scream, "How could it have stopped?"

At this moment, he discovered that there were only twenty or so people left beside him; the rest of the knights had actually become separated from them.

All the Edict Knights were plunged into confusion.

The Edict Charge was forcibly stopped by the War Monks of the Imperial Guard First Legion, using their flesh and blood.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Ten large-bore hand cannons roared simultaneously, and the Holy Gunners who had operated the cannons collapsed to the ground the moment they left the cannons.

The three Edict Knights who were entangled with the War Monks trembled all over.

They lowered their heads, staring blankly at the blood holes piercing through their chests, staggered twice, and fell heavily to the ground.

What is this? All the transcendent knights' pupils constricted; a bad premonition rose in their hearts.

"Woo-woo-woo—" The sound of the horn seemed so thick in the rain, but it could be clearly heard by everyone.

"Salvation Army—" The devilish, seductive voice of the warlock Horne sounded; the half-sword in his hand emitted a blood-red luster, "Charge with me!"

Roaring, Horne waved Bloodveil, leading the Valkyries of the Varangian Guard towards the nearest transcendent knight.

The counterattack had begun.