From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

"Well, the Corsican people react very quickly."

Colonel Bartland straightened his back, sat on the horse, and looked at the movements of the Corsican army with a long silver-inlaid telescope.

There are endless pastures within a few miles, with no hills or trees blocking the view. Even the grass under your feet is only about to reach your knees at its deepest point.

Under such terrain, and with today's almost cloudless sunny weather, both sides could have a clear view of the opponent's battle formation.

"There are indeed less than a thousand of them, which is really strange."

Colonel Bartland put down his telescope, touched his chin and said thoughtfully:

"There is no way there is an ambush around. What on earth are they thinking."

"Whatever, Colonel."

A staff officer shook his head disdainfully and said:

"It's enough to surprise me that these Corsican savages can form a neat array. What tactics they can use may be available in a few hundred years."

"Well, that's true."

Colonel Bartland smiled and nodded. As an officer who was born in a military academy, he somewhat despised this army from a remote place:

"Give me the order to form a square formation with three battalions and advance towards the enemy. The other two battalions will be separated on the two wings, ready to surround and annihilate the enemy from the flanks at any time."

"Lieutenant Colonel Bonaparte, the Sardinian army has begun to move."

Major Trifali squinted his eyes and looked into the distance. He could barely make out that the Sardinian army was gathering and arranging in formation and slowly walking towards him. He couldn't help but said to Lawrence nervously.

Lawrence held the reins in his hands tightly on the horse and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

Different from the last surprise attack on Yangjiao Bay, this time he was actually commanding an army to fight on the battlefield. It was the first time for Lawrence, who had been born in two lifetimes.

Fortunately, Major Trifali and Lieutenant Seth are experienced veterans, and Lawrence does not need to be responsible for micro-management on the battlefield, but only needs to direct the general military operations.

"They seem to want to surround us?"

Lawrence also looked at the movements of the Sardinian army from a distance, watching the width of the opponent's army's battle line continue to increase, moving slowly like a giant open net, and said without surprise:

"This is consistent with what I expected. The Sardinian army has all the advantages. They definitely not only want to win this battle, but also want to eliminate our effective forces and maximize the results."

Major Cui Farley also nodded, feeling a little relieved and said:

"This is good news. Their flanking troops cannot shoot during the encirclement process, which reduces the fire pressure on our army frontally."

"That's right."

Lawrence nodded slightly, pulled up the reins, turned around, and glanced at the soldiers under his command.

The soldiers have received more or less news in the past few days, and they know that they will face enemies several times their own number.

Despair, tension, fear, trust, fanaticism.

From their faces, Lawrence could read a variety of emotions. These positive or negative emotions were intertwined, shrouding all the soldiers in a dignified and solemn atmosphere.

The array in front of Lawrence was not silent either. He could hear the soldiers whispering about their uneasiness.

What's more, there are the sounds of soldiers holding iron crosses, closing their eyes and leaning on the shoulders of their companions, praying softly.

"Perhaps only God can help us win this battle."

The soldiers holding the cross thought so.

Crack!

There was a sudden explosion in front of the soldiers.

The soldiers looked up in confusion and saw their commander, riding a tall horse with maroon hair, waving his whip and whipping it hard into the air.

Lawrence slowly took the riding crop into his hand and responded to every look that stared at him.

"Soldiers, follow my orders, face forward, and tell me what you see."

Lawrence's almost roaring voice reached everyone's ears. They looked ahead blankly, looking at the enemy troops advancing towards here, but no one responded.

"Let me tell you, that is the army of the Sardinians, the army that brought plunder and killing to Corsica. Soldiers, think about how these strangers show off their power on the land of Corsica."

Lawrence drew out his short sword and pointed the blade at the invading Sardinians.

The tip of the knife turned into a dazzling light spot under the bright sun. Despite the dazzling light, the soldiers still stared at Lawrence's knife tip and the direction the knife tip pointed.

"They just arrived in Corsica yesterday, and their blades are still sharp and clean, not stained with Corsican blood. But..."

Lawrence waved the dagger in his hand, sheathed it, then looked at the soldiers with an excited look and shouted:

"If when a nation is invaded, the first drop of blood spilled is the blood of women, children, old people, and unarmed civilians, then I will use the most vicious language to call The men of this nation are cowards and cowards!”

"Now, soldiers, behind us are Corsican women, children, the elderly, and unarmed civilians. What are your plans?"

Lawrence rode his horse slowly past the array, scanned every soldier's face with his sharp eyes, and asked sternly:

"Tell me! Tell me Florentines, are you ready to fight or are you going to retreat?! Are Corsican men warriors or cowards?!"

Silence, deathly silence, lasted only a moment.

What followed was a deafening sound:

"fighting!"

"We are Corsicans! We are born warriors!"

"Corsican men are born with swords in their hands!"

"What's this noise?"

Colonel Bartland frowned and raised his telescope again, but he couldn't see clearly what happened. He could only hear roars coming from the enemy's position.

"Never mind them, maybe the savages are going crazy." A staff officer curled his lips and said completely nonchalantly.

Colonel Butland also nodded in agreement, turned to the messenger next to him and said:

"Inform the artillery to prepare for bombardment, and also order each battalion to speed up to prevent the enemy from escaping."

About half an hour later, the distance between the two armies had shortened to about 600 meters, entering the shooting range of the six three-pound artillery behind the Sardinian army.

The Sardinian army's artillery poured shells at the Corsican army without stopping. Almost every ten seconds, a shell roared across the heads of the soldiers, hitting the ground hard and raising a cloud of dust.

Lawrence grabbed the reins hard and reined in the frightened horse. Even if the shells missed, the loud noise and dust raised made the livestock almost out of control.

"damn it!"

Seeing that Lawrence, who had poor riding skills, could not control the animal, he simply turned over and dismounted, trotted over a crater himself, drew his knife and pointed it at the approaching Sardinian army, shouting:

"Soldiers, move forward! I am with you!"

Even under artillery fire, the soldiers of the special battalion couldn't help but be stunned for a moment. They really couldn't believe that the commander had abandoned his mount and shuttled through the array under artillery fire like them.

At this moment, even the most cowardly soldier gritted his teeth, clenched the musket in his hand, and walked firmly through the smoke in front of him.

"Well, not bad, just as I planned."

As the supreme commander, of course Colonel Bartland would not come to the front line in person. Instead, he would observe the battle situation with a telescope from about three hundred yards away from the battlefield.

The two armies have been exchanging fire for some time, and continuous gunshots echoed across the plain.

The smoke produced by the burning gunpowder gathered together and formed a large slowly rising white cloud, covering the battlefield.

"Very good, the troops on the flanks are in place."

Colonel Bartland looked at the situation on the battlefield, licked his lips excitedly, and shouted to the side:

"Commander! Notify the two battalions on the flanks to start encirclement and surround and kill all the enemy troops."

However, to Colonel Butland's surprise, no one responded to him, and all he could hear were bursts of gunfire.

"The messengers, where are those messengers! Damn it!"

Colonel Bartland roared and looked around on his horse, but only he and a few staff adjutants were present.

His adjutants and staff also looked at each other in panic. No one knew why the messengers did not return.