Ride and Cut

"Ambush!" A terrifying thought flashed through Hendra's mind like lightning, and his heart contracted violently.

Since the day the war was born, ambush, as an ancient but effective tactic, has never completely disappeared. Once successful, it can often produce miraculous effects that reverse the outcome.

The roar of the brown bear is all Hendra's hard work and hope. Frankly speaking, he absolutely cannot bear the consequences of defeat.

Fortunately, the scene of the enemy army pouring out like a tide did not appear, but seventy or eighty people turned into two hundred people. On the scene, Roaring Brown Bear still maintains about ten times the number of people advantage. In plain combat, this ratio often means complete crushing.

and--

"Heavy cavalry, attack immediately!" Hendra didn't want to see any surprises, and played the ace in his hand.

The dull sound of horseshoes began to sound. It was slow and noisy at first, but soon became dense, and even overwhelmed the shouts of thousands of infantry.

The momentum produced by the heavy cavalry charge can only be described as terrifying. Each rider's armor weighs more than half a ton, and the four hooves fly to the ground to grind the grass leaves, and when they sweep forward, they are like a thunderbolt. Such a heavy force finally converges on a little steel gun, and it is bound to be invincible!

And such cavalry has a full two hundred people in the same battle!

Not to mention that there are many officers among them who are full of fighting spirit, and the lances in their hands exude colorful brilliance.

After flexing their fingers at most a hundred times, they will crash directly into the formation of the Alpine Fort from the flanks. Even a giant dragon will definitely not be able to resist the spear thrusts of hundreds of heavy cavalry with its body, let alone a group of slightly stronger ordinary people!

Hendra waited for a final decision after a hundred fingers, and the cavalry looked forward to making meritorious deeds after a hundred fingers.

But this is only a hundred times, but for the front-line infantry, it seems to be in an endless hell, or an absurd nightmare.

They coordinated with each other to attack the enemy with spears, epees, and armor-piercing hammers as they did in daily training. Skilled movements, orderly rhythm, and reasonable collocation all show that every drop of sweat they shed on the martial arts arena is worth the money. These former farmers who have not yet entered the army are now enough to be called fighters.

But this effort is meaningless in front of the enemy. If they are qualified fighters, then even if the opponent can't reach the level of transcendence, they are at least a generation of grandmasters.

What greeted them was the tomahawks and giant swords that fell down on their heads and faces. The soldiers were not wooden targets to be slaughtered, and they immediately tried to block with shields or weapons.

No one can say that there is a problem with the response, but unfortunately, under the premise of the vast difference in strength, the correct response may not necessarily bring the correct result. And it might be a mistake to let a group of newcomers stand up to the brave and unparalleled warriors of Gaoshanbao.

Blocking was of no avail at all, not because the enemy had used some exquisite martial arts, but because the tomahawk was powerful and heavy, and easily cut people and weapons in half.

The most frightening thing was the heavy swordsman. He was obviously much shorter than other heavy armored infantry, but the weapons he used were the most exaggerated and the heaviest.

I don't know where such terrible strength came from. His body was as fragile as straw paper in front of him. A horizontal cut was enough to permanently separate the upper and lower bodies of everyone in the entire fan-shaped range in front of him. The lucky ones who narrowly escaped from the edge were scared to shit on the spot.

And when he uses the vertical chop, the victim can't expect to be left with a slightly intact remains.

The centaur's bow and arrow also suddenly became sharper, hitting a hole in the wooden shield, and then piercing through it with the shield hand behind it. Some centaurs seemed to feel that the use of bows and arrows was inefficient, so they simply drew out their scimitars and joined the front-line hand-to-hand combat.

Strength suppression, size suppression, equipment suppression.

In this tens-to-one confrontation, it turned out that the numerically superior side could not hold back and retreated steadily, while the inferior side was roaring forward, leaving behind a field of flesh and blood stained the ground red.

This is not a close fight, but two hundred-pound golden-crowned gladiators beating children heartily, and no amount is given for nothing.

The Grizzly Roar infantry quickly realized that trying to defeat such an opponent would be tantamount to humiliating themselves, and their courage was melting away like snowflakes in the hot sun.

The only thing that can support them to continue without defeat is the heavy cavalry comrades who are about to arrive. They are still willing to believe that the terrifying lethality of heavy cavalry is enough to solve all problems.

But the barbarians and centaurs were still slashing and chopping, as if they didn't see the heavy cavalry that was getting closer not far away.

The corners of Hendra's mouth were slightly curved, listening to the flattery around him.

But at the next moment, a deep and loud long hiss suddenly sounded from the reeds on the river bank, followed by another sound.

The continuous hissing sounded together, and the tall reeds like the jungle were easily trampled on the ground like straw, and the things that had been covered by it finally revealed their true colors.

A circle of people around Hendra were chatting, laughing and flattering wildly, waiting for the moment of victory, but at this moment, it was as if a time stop switch had been pressed, and it was eerily quiet. They opened their mouths wide and rattled in their throats, but they couldn't utter a word.

The intense shock made his mind go blank, only the pupils and the sphincter contracted violently.

It was a gigantic earth-moving dragon as large as a hill, covered with thick animal armor with hideous edges and corners, like an ancient disaster that came out of a mythical epic, exuding a terrifying aura that made the enemy despair.

They stood there as a city wall, and what was even more suffocating was that the city wall was gradually accelerating under the driving of the knight on the back, and the mud enough to trap the horse's legs was less than the knees of the ground dragon, which could not constitute an obstacle at all.

The ground began to tremble violently, causing waves of water to splash from the originally calm river. Like a natural disaster, the waterfowl and animals perched on the reed screamed and fled in all directions.

Under the tacit guidance of the riders of the same birth, the seemingly huge and cumbersome ground dragon actually took a neat step of a hundred people in harmony!

This kind of coordination appears on any cavalry unit, and it is definitely a symbol of elites.

And directly in front of them were two heavy cavalry centurions from the Roaring Brown Bear Legion.

As a heavy mount, Dixinglong was naturally weak in terms of agility. Although the charging power was unparalleled in the world, its speed and endurance were far from outstanding.

If the distance is far enough, the heavy cavalry of the brown bear roaring has a chance to turn around and avoid the battle. The horses under their crotch are known for their short-distance speed, and the ground dragon can only follow behind to eat ashes.

But it is too late to talk about "what if" at this moment. There is no regret medicine in the world, and the reality is cruel-the distance between the two sides is shortening rapidly, and there is no room for another turn.

At this time, a forced U-turn is to give the most vulnerable flank to the enemy, which is tantamount to suicide!