Iron Powder and Spellcasters

   Chapter 208 Finale (middle)

   The harsh sound of gongs echoed from every corner of the fortress, which was a signal to retreat, meaning [the artillery had been destroyed].

  The barbarians in the fort were surprised to find that the two-legged people who were still fighting with their lives one second ago would run away the next second.

  The Platonic people who poured into the gap like a tide, then receded like a tide.

run! run! Run away! Run back to the camp to live!

   This is what everyone thinks.

  Because the white lion has come.

   The barbarians in the fortress are already too many for them to deal with. What if they add barbarian reinforcements? The raiding force will be wiped out in an instant.

   But the barbarian reinforcements did not head into the fortress, but interspersed between the fortress and the camp.

   Does the white lion want to swallow this lone army in one bite? Or does he have bigger plans?

   Winters had no energy to think.

   He made a temporary stretcher with spears and clothes, and Heinrich and Heinrich carried Andre, who had only one breath left, and ran towards the camp under the hillside.

   The moon was so dim that I couldn't see the road at all, so I could only run with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

   Winters' legs were as heavy as lead, and his armor seemed to weigh thousands of pounds.

   He gritted his teeth and took one step at a time. The surviving members of Jesska's brigade followed behind him.

   Stumbled on something under his feet, and Winters felt as if he was flying.

   Within a second of gliding, he fell heavily to the ground.

  Heinrich let out an exclamation and helped the centurion with the other soldiers.

   The blunt force wound he suffered just now started to hurt, and there was no muscle on Winters' body that didn't hurt, even itchy.

   He couldn't tell what was phantom pain and what was physical feedback.

   At a certain moment, he really wanted to lie on the ground like this, and keep lying down.

   But he still struggled to his feet.

   "How is Andre?" he asked.

   "It's okay!" Heinrich replied quickly: "I didn't fall to the Cellini Centurion!"

   Winters unhooked and ripped off his helmet.

   Stray bullets, flying arrows... He was too lazy to worry anymore, at this moment he just wanted to breathe some fresh air.

   There were clearly audible shouts and gunshots from the direction of the camp, and Winters saw the fire flashing near the camp wall.

   Apparently, the outflanking brute was at war with the main camp defenders.

  The White Lion not only wants to eat the troops attacking the fort, but also wants to break through the large camp in one fell swoop - at least to see if there is an opportunity.

   In the direction of the fortress behind everyone, there were also shouts of killing and the sound of weapons colliding.

   That was the Robert Brigade in the rear who was fighting with the brute who chased after him.

   There are wolves in front and tigers in the back. If we say that there was an opportunity to "take advantage of the time difference to withdraw to the camp while the enemy is not in place".

   Now Winters can conclude that it is too late.

   "It's too late!" Winters spat: "The whole team! Fight back!"

   Winters stopped, and the other warriors around him stopped.

The militiamen behind    came one after another, and everyone was exhausted.

   The fully-staffed Jesska brigade consisted of 660 militiamen and five officers.

   From Bianli all the way back to the Styx, there were already less than 300 people around Winters who could breathe.

   Lieutenant Colonel Jesska rushed to the front of the queue.

   Seeing this situation, the lieutenant colonel took the army flag of the brigade from the soldiers holding the flag: "Everyone, go to the army flag to form a team!"

  The militiamen dragged their tired bodies and moved towards the military flag step by step.

   On the battlefield at this moment, the sound of horse hooves is heard in all directions in the west, but the roaring horse hooves in front are obviously getting closer.

   Everyone ran towards the flag as if they were whipped to the back.

   Team Jesska had no formation at this moment, elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder, and everyone was trying their best to squeeze into the center.

   What if they form a square? Without carrying a super long gun, everyone only has short weapons and muskets, how to fight the barbarian cavalry?

   The sound of the hooves was getting closer and the crowd became more and more panicked.

  People stick to people, arquebusiers can't shoot at all. Sword and shield hand can not fight.

   "Musketeers!" Winters shouted loudly: "Go outside!"

  Mason was equally impatient, shouting hoarsely: "Musketeers! Get outside!"

  The crowd is like a headless fly, how can the formation change be completed?

It was no use shouting   , and Winters went straight to it, pulling the musketeers out of the wall one by one.

   But the sound of the hooves was getting closer, and it was too late.

   "It's us! Don't shoot!" shouted the visitor.

  Pierre rushed out of the night, and the Dussacs followed him. There were also some pistol cavalry among the Dussac light cavalry.

   "What's the matter?" Wintesla rested on the bridle of Pierre's horse.

After the    withdrawal order was given, the Palatine cavalry was the first to leave the battle. Winters had thought they had withdrawn safely to the camp.

   "The barbarians are blocking the front! We and Lieutenant Colonel Custer are separated!" Pierre replied briefly: "The barbarians are coming this way!

   Behind Pierre, the more terrible sound of hooves was approaching.

   In the middle of the crowd, Lieutenant Colonel Jesska, who was holding the military flag, suddenly shouted: "The Musketeer stands! The others lie down!"

   Hearing this order, everyone was at a loss.

   Suddenly, Winters had a flash of inspiration.

   "Get down! Get down!" He gave a loudspeaker order: "The Musketeers stand! Only the Musketeers are allowed to stand!"

   The voice amplified by magic clearly reached everyone's ears.

   Whether they understood it or not, the militiamen obeyed the orders of the centurion of Montagne subconsciously.

   One person is lying on the ground, others are also lying down, and more and more people are lying down.

  The crowd loosened up—because lying down requires more space than standing, the formation started to spread out.

  Mason also figured out what Lieutenant Colonel Jesska meant.

   "Musketeers are not allowed to lie down!" Lieutenant Mason pulled up the musketeers who were lying on the ground: "Stand up for me! Cowardice slash!"

   Soon, only the Musketeer was standing on this hillside, and everyone else had already turned into a lying position.

   The shooting space that was not there just now is now there.

   "Prepare the arquebus! Load the ammunition! Fire at my command!" Winters roared as he walked: "The others! Stand up at the command!"

   A group of musketeers woke up like a dream, took out the paper bags containing gunpowder and lead bullets, and started the loading process.

   "Mr. Mitchell!" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica in the center of the circle yelled at Pierre: "You command the cavalry! Take them to the back!"

  Pierre raised his hand in salute from a distance, whistled, and led the cavalry toward the hillside.

   The sound of rolling hooves is getting closer, this time it is no longer his own cavalry, but a vicious barbarian.

  One ride, two rides... Hurd's light cavalry filed out from the darkness.

   Seeing the strange formation of the Platoons, the barbarians running at the front were shocked and suspicious, and for a while did not dare to move forward.

   But with a red plume feather arriving on the battlefield, the barbarian's actions became organized.

   More than 300 savages, about 100 of them dismounted and took the same object from their backs.

   Winters saw it clearly, the barbarians were holding muskets, and they were actually mounted musketeers.

  The barbarian musketeer loaded the ammunition, hung the arquebus, and pressed towards the Jesska brigade step by step.

   The remaining 200 cavalrymen were divided into two groups, one left and one right flanking.

   Surrounded by a hundred horses, it can wrap thousands of people.

  The thunder-like sound of horse hooves came from all directions, and some of the militiamen lying on the ground tried their best to bury their heads in the grass, as if they could escape the catastrophe.

  The musketeers of the barbarians walked to about 60 meters and started shooting at the Jesska brigade.

  The lead flew, and the musketeers were knocked down one after another.

  If you shoot at the barbarians, then you will be in their arms.

   "Aim at their cavalry! Don't be afraid!" Winters measured the distance of the barbarian cavalry: "Musketeers! Prepare!"

  Fifty meters.

   There were Platonic prayers with trembling.

   Forty meters.

   The sound of hooves was deafening.

   Thirty meters.

   Winters could already see the heat from the enemy's warhorses.

   he yelled: "Fire!"

   Every platoon musketeer pressed the lever without hesitation.

The sound of    more than two hundred muskets was like a single shot.

  The savage horse that rushed in front was knocked down like a scythe cutting wheat.

   The brutal horse behind gritted his teeth, lowered his body, and continued to charge forward.

   Lieutenant Colonel Jesska shouted: "Stand up! Everyone!"

   "Stand up!" Winters pulled up the soldier beside him, activated the amplification technique, and ordered sharply: "Stand up!"

  The militia cannot carry out such tactical orders, nor can the standing army.

   But Winters' warriors trusted him as much as they trusted their own eyes and hands.

   Hearing Winters' order, the soldiers of the Montagne team stood up without hesitation.

   Some militiamen did not dare to get up, and more militiamen followed the soldiers of Montagne's team to get up.

  Like a dragon's fang planted in the ground growing into a warrior, the Paratus "drilled" out of the ground.

   There are no suitable words to describe the shock felt by the barbarians.

  The Wild Riders are within easy reach of the Jessica Brigade, and they only need to do one thing - bang.

   The outermost warrior has closed his eyes.

   But nothing happened.

  The barbarian's warhorse neighed, raising its front hooves high, almost standing.

   The savage horse in the front stopped less than three meters away from the Jesska brigade.

   Is the rider afraid? Or are the horses afraid?

   Winters didn't know, but he saw an opportunity.

   Only a few savage riders did not have time to slow down and rushed into the crowd. The riders were thrown off the saddle, and a few militiamen who did not have time to dodge were knocked into the air.

  The barbarian charge did not show the power it should have, and the Paratus did not rout.

   Combat turns into fair hand-to-hand combat.

   "Kill!" Winters lunged at the enemy with a saber.

   "Uukhai!" Every soldier in Jieska's brigade raised their weapons and rushed towards the barbarian closest to them.

   "Uukhai!" Even the musketeer raised the **** of his gun and shouted at the enemy.

  The barbarians also recovered. Although the charge was interrupted, they still had the strength to fight.

  The barbarian on the horse wields the machete condescendingly, and can chop off the arm and neck with one slash.

  The soldiers of Jieska's brigade grabbed the reins of the warhorse and stabbed the enemy with their swords like crazy.

   "Bang, bang" gunshots kept ringing, not the Platoons firing, but the musketeers of the barbarians.

  The lead was flying around, and I didn't know who was hit. Both sides were fighting the enemy they identified.

   "Ура!" Pierre led the last cavalry down the hillside.

   He didn’t join the melee—in the dark the Paratus couldn’t tell the difference between friend and foe, and killed the one on horseback—but bypassed the battlefield and charged at the barbarian musketeers behind.

   There was also a battle cry from the back of the barbarian musketeer. Two dozen black-armored cavalrymen pulled together in a straight line, and the momentum of the charge surpassed that of thousands of troops: "Uukhai!"

   Those black-armored cavalrymen did not hesitate to smash the ranks of the barbarian musketeers.

  Lieutenant Colonel Custer is back!

   "Lieutenant Montagne!" Lieutenant Colonel Jesska pulled Winters out of the melee.

   "Success!" Winters gasped, unable to hide his excitement: "We did it! The barbarians are scared!"

   "It's not over yet!" Lieutenant Colonel Jesska handed the flag to Winters: "Lieutenant Montagne! You are the vanguard!"

   "Yes!" Winters saluted earnestly.

   Lieutenant Colonel Jesska seemed to be laughing. He buckled Winters' helmet and tapped lightly: "Don't be so reckless in the future."

   "Got it." Winters nodded again and again, and Lieutenant Colonel Jesska suddenly became gentle, which made him a little uncomfortable.

   A gunshot suddenly sounded in the distance.

   There were shouts, screams, and the sound of weapons colliding. Winters shouldn't have noticed the gunshot, but he really heard it.

   He also heard a sharp cracking sound, as if there was a gust of wind blowing across his face.

   Then there was a crisp "ping" sound Winters was familiar with, the sound of lead bullets smashing on armor.

   shards of lead even splashed onto Winters' visor.

   Winters closed his eyes, but he didn't feel the impact of the buckshot.

   He opened his eyes in horror: "Lieutenant Colonel! You..."

   "Winters..." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska was unusually calm, even calmer than he was usually: "I...I don't seem to see..."

   [It is recommended that you refresh and watch it first. ]

   [Originally, "The Finale" should only be up and down, but Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's "exit" deserves a chapter.

   Of course not that Lieutenant Colonel Jessica will retire in this story, but he will temporarily leave the stage. Losing the other eye is also what happened to Jan Jesska in the parallel universe. This gives the story a sudden tinge of fatalism. ]

   [About the tactical action of "lying down", this simple action appeared on the battlefield earlier than most people imagined. In the general impression, it should be that in the 19th century, after the popularization of bombs and rifled guns, soldiers would "lie down".

   In fact, at least as early as the Battle of Cheresole in 1554, Swiss mercenaries were already using the "lying down" action. I remember using a similar tactic for the Spanish phalanx. The soldiers lay on the ground and let the enemy's lead and shells fly over their heads.

   But this tactic requires a lot of "morale and initiative". If it is a unit with low morale and subjective initiative, I am afraid that after lying down, it will not get up again...

Morale and initiative are a thing with a very high upper limit and a very low lower limit, and the troops of "Frederick the Great" have been described as "as long as the formations are scattered on the battlefield, there will be soldiers who will escape" - of course, this may also be the enemy slander. There are also examples of the heroes of the '62 War in troops with high morale. ]

   (end of this chapter)