Ride and Cut

"I can't help you much." There were beads of sweat on Granling's forehead. When the battle situation was at its most stalemate just now, he desperately used divine magic to support him, and his divine power was completely overdrawn.

"Damn it, count me in." Buster picked up the helmet and put it back on his head. He wants to see what tricks this eagle knight can do!

The leader of the tiger guards was named Woods. He silently bowed to Bedric, raised his epee and led all the tiger guards who could still fight to behind Richard. His brethren fought and died in Chaksh, and the Khajiit never had the habit of abandoning his comrades, even if only corpses remained.

Before he could brew more intense emotions, a figure suddenly stood in front of him like a tree stump.

"All the newcomers stand back." Gunther pushed hard with his shoulders, pushing the big man half taller than him to stumble, and snorted disdainfully, "There is no place for you here."

"Qihuo, charge." Li Cha snapped his fingers and spread far in the dry and cold air.

As the long sword pointed, the sound of neat footsteps began to sound.

"It's coming again." Capet rested his chin on his palm thoughtfully.

The number of people attacked this time was only about one-eighth of the last time, about 300 in total, so small that they could be counted directly without estimating. The lineup looks pitifully thin, and the contrast with the Griffin Ambition, which is ready to fight, is even stronger.

The only difference is that the ground dragon cavalry and centaur who had been stationed in the distance to watch the battle last time also moved this time.

As an experienced commander, Capet always presupposes that his opponents are smart enough to speculate whether there are more hidden deep-seated murderous intentions hidden behind those seemingly stupid actions.

On the ever-changing battlefield, this is definitely a good habit, and it has saved the fate of himself and his subordinates several times. But this time, Capet felt that maybe the enemy was just being stupid. Because he really couldn't figure out what such a small number of people could do even if they rushed forward.

Elite? There really is no doubt about it.

It was the first time for Capet to see a troop charge more neatly than the guard of honor. Their speed was not slower than the Pompeii infantry just now, and they might even be faster, but they had a leisurely feeling as if they were walking, and they were not ordinary at a glance.

But the elite can't fight everything, let alone surpass the mighty Blood Knight.

"Uncle, please let me join the battle." Little nephew Fontaine blushed with excitement.

"Go." Capet felt that it was better to let him meet the storm at the right time, so as not to always be ignorant, "but you must be with the Cavaliers reserve team, and you cannot act alone."

Fontaine ran and hopped away like a rabbit, it was hard to say how much he could listen to the elders' advice.

Capet's eyes continued to focus on the battlefield, the Pompeian barbarians' infantry were close enough.

Following the officer's loud shout, the archers began to shoot arrows in volley, but soon stopped helplessly. The opponent has a pair of heavy and sophisticated armor, and their efforts are basically equivalent to wasting arrows.

And the same archer, the centaur's performance is enough to make any commander jealous enough to vomit blood.

They stood still a hundred yards away, and with only two rounds of free fire, no one dared to show their faces on the fence—one of the brave men who dared to show their heads had a feathered arrow growing out of their heads. Then the centaur began pouring firepower at the infantry formation behind the gap.

The nightmare of Griffin Ambition officially kicked off.

Shields are a sharp weapon against bows and arrows, but today is an exception.

A slightly thinner shield can't stop the combination of longbow and heavy arrows at all, and it will be penetrated by both the shield and the shield. But this does not mean that it is safe to hide behind the heavy shield. As long as you do not pay attention to revealing a little flesh, a feathered arrow will immediately fly over like a long eye, which is unbelievably accurate.

Capet realized that the level of these centaur archers was definitely the highest he had ever seen in his life, and even the elves who were famous for being good at archery could not be better than them. Although the total number is less than one hundred, the ability to cause casualties is comparable to that of a thousand-man team.

Griffin Ambition has five hundred archers attached to it, all of whom are veterans and have a huge advantage in numbers. It's not that they haven't tried to fight back. However, the difference in shooting skills between the two sides is obviously greater than the number of people. Under the intensive care of the centaur, they withdrew from the battle before the third round due to heavy casualties.

Looking at this scene, Capet began to feel a little uneasy, and when the hand-to-hand combat began, this uneasiness quickly became a reality.

The stalemate and tragic exchange that would have occurred did not occur at all. When the Pompeian barbarians rushed up wielding their battle axes, the Stuart soldiers in a line of defense were like straw targets. The only effect was to slightly delay the enemy's advance.

The speed at which they fell was so fast that people couldn't react, and it was inevitable that they would doubt whether their eyes were reliable. The regular Stuart army with complete equipment, complete organization and high morale is no better than the unarmed civilians at the moment, and is being massacred without resistance!

According to the rate of casualties, Capet quickly deduced an almost absurd fact-these seemingly inconspicuous Pompeii hoplites are generally stronger than the three-bladed tigers!

Especially the heavy swordsman who rushed to the front, his weapon didn't seem to be sharpened at all, but every time he swung it, several legionnaires broke free from the constraints of gravity for a short time, and rushed into the air like a bird. Such an exaggerated performance was a complete blow to morale. After several knights who tried to intercept were killed in battle, the soldiers with Griffon ambition obviously began to fear the battle and avoid it.

"Should we do it?" Cervantes looked very irritable, holding a scarlet rapier in his hand, and from time to time it melted into a liquid and wrapped his palm.

There was a bony deep gash on his cheek, a mark left on him by a Khajiit warrior. Blood knights can control their own blood, so there is no need to worry about blood loss from the wound, but the pain will not be exempted because of this. There seemed to be a flame burning in Cervantes' heart, eager to destroy and kill.

"Wait a little longer, wait a little longer." Capet repeated nervously, with countless thoughts spinning rapidly.

Sending out the blood knight now can definitely reverse the disadvantage, but it is also equivalent to playing the last hole card in his hand. The problem is that the most feared ground dragoons are still eyeing, obviously waiting for the blood knight to come out first.

At this time, whoever plays the hole card first will be at a disadvantage. If the Blood Knight is dispatched too early, it will undoubtedly become the target of the Earth Dragon's charge.

How to deal with it? This question circled in Capet's mind.

All thoughts ended in a wry smile, and he soon realized that he had no choice at all, as the front line was sliding toward collapse. The other party can wait, but he can't wait.

"Master Cervantes, please."