Chapter 1102: Chapter 1041: Mounted Infantry

Three hundred Royal Cavalry drew their lances, moving in unison, charging towards the Holy Alliance formation.

They didn’t favor the wedge formation like the Leia Knights.

Even with three hundred men, they formed a 100 by 3 cavalry wall, with less than half a meter between them, charging neatly.

This tactic was their specialty; if the entire Royal Cavalry unit were present, they could cover a battlefield width of three to five hundred meters.

The sound of iron hooves shook the ground, the knights lowered their visors, and their roar seemed to echo.

"Woo-ooo-ooo—"

"Hey!"

"For the King!"

"And the gold pounds!"

"One hundred meters!"

The Knight Commander’s iron gauntlets clenched the reins, fingers whitened under the gloves.

There was no movement in the Holy Alliance formation, war monks showed no emotion, with only the wind catching the edges of black and red robes.

"Eighty meters!"

Gael held his breath; the cavalry could now see the indifferent faces of the Holy Gunmen.

Suddenly, the first row of Holy Gunmen kneeled uniformly, while the second row stepped forward, revealing the third row holding up their holy guns.

"Oh, shit!" The Knight Commander realized it was a three-layer shooting, "Prone style."

The knights instantly lowered their heads, bent their backs like shrimp.

The dark gun barrels were aimed at the charging three hundred Royal Cavalry.

"Three-layer shooting!"

"Praise Holy Wind!"

The gunfire erupted like popping beans, a dense barrage of lead instantly enveloping the cavalry.

The twenty-plus knights at the front fell from their horses as if struck by an invisible hammer, mixing cries of man and beast.

"Don’t be afraid, they reload slowly, charge past, use bows and spears to break the front row!" The Knight Commander clumsily pulled out the longbow from beside the saddle.

On the opposite side, the Holy Alliance Army smoothly split in the front rows, and before they reached the back, there was the shout:

"Reload!"

"Three-layer shooting—Fire!"

Another round of volleys, more cavalry fell, blood splattering, staining the wetland at the edge of the reeds.

"Hey?" As the Knight Commander raised his head, his helmet sparked from a grazing lead, uttering a peculiar sound.

This frequency was inconsistent with what Count Kazi mentioned, nearly matching bow firing speed!

"Three-layer shooting—Fire!"

Cold sweat ran down the Knight Commander’s sideburns.

Something’s wrong!

Nine out of ten things are wrong!

"Praise Holy Wind!"

Already the third, no, fourth round!

Before the cavalry reached them, the Holy Alliance Spring Gunners had already completed four rounds of three-layer volleys.

In the last fifty meters, as the cavalry reacted to reach the critical 15% casualty ratio, this number shifted again.

The bewildered Royal Cavalry were stunned.

The surviving knights pulled the reins, starting to turn to the flanks, laying low on horseback with anxious horses scraping hooves.

Something’s wrong!

Gael also sensed something was amiss.

He had seen the spring guns firsthand and calculated the firing speed; at best two shots per minute.

Yet the Holy Alliance’s firing rate was rapid, with front, middle, and rear rows volleying?

Are they not reloading? Where are they getting all the mana?

Cavalry combat is a game of will and confidence.

When knights believe they have the advantage, they charge with full force; when they sense things are wrong, they retreat with all they have.

In terms of courage and boldness, Leia and Falan are no different; even Royal Cavalry are better trained.

Compared to Leia Imperial Knights, Falan Royal Knights lack willpower.

In the past, Prince Kongdai’s imperial orders led them to follow charismatic commanders to charge decisively.

If the Royal Cavalry replaced the Imperial Knights, at least a third would remain after charging halfway.

This posed the biggest headache for Lorenzo; Falan’s spontaneous and nimble nature rooted in town culture emerging with urban development.

Local corps often recruit from the locality.

If from a nouveau riche merchant culture, although the economic core and loyal region of Falan.

The recruited soldiers are slippery, only fight when the wind is favorable, even bargaining before battles.

However, if terms are agreed upon, they fight fiercely.

Regarding inland agricultural territories, often old noble domains.

Knights and soldiers from these regions fight earnestly, can endure hard fights, somewhat rigid but competent.

The issue is, powerful factions abound; soldiers heed their own patriarchs.

Falan’s national strength is even six or seven times that of the Holy Alliance; yet, they dare not fight the Holy Alliance like Leia due to this.

These Royal Cavalry are Falan’s elite; wealthy, with high pension and salaries.

Yet, should they die, they can no longer enjoy this fortunate life.

As lead bullets poured like rain, they gauged the odds of continued charging.

To their surprise, they found if they kept charging, at least a third would be gone before reaching heavy arrow range.

That’s too unprofitable.

Uncertain which knight turned first, then collapsing spread like plague.

The knights cunningly circled back, then chased each other because spring cannons poked out from the grass.

Many knights collided into their infantry lines, disrupting hard-earned formations.

Using spring cannons in retaliation was impossible.

Manufacturing brass is simple enough; with sufficient alchemists and steel, making some spring cannons is feasible.

As for dwarf specialty steel for spring chambers, Falan couldn’t replicate it but had its own special steel, albeit pricier.

The issue is, spring cannons need setup; otherwise, they are fumbling, useless.

At the reed thicket, the Holy Alliance Army had long prepared, setting hydraulic winding machines by the river.

Cannon roaring filled the air, scattering the previously neat formation.

Falan gunners tried retaliation, but soon realized the abnormal speed of Holy Alliance shooting.

The shooting speed indeed relates to team rotation and reload speed; Falan shooters are slower in retreat shooting than the Holy Alliance.

Yet still, shooting two shots while the other side fired four and even five?

Faced with such disparity, the gunners immediately chose to flee.

At such a clear disadvantage, rather than staying to fight and die, it’s better to escape to rear camps, regroup and fight again.

"No fleeing allowed!" Gael trembled with anger, pulling the Military Regulations from his coat, waving it, "Article Fifty-Six! Those who desert..."

The rushing crowd ignored him, sweeping him to the ground like a flood.

Mud poured into his boots; struggling up, he witnessed a more absurd sight.

Beside the Holy Alliance formation, nearly a hundred nags, mules, and donkeys suddenly emerged, carrying Holy Gunmen along the reed edge path.

A buzz filled Gael’s mind, finally awakening him—

No wonder they arrived so quickly!

They didn’t rely on their legs; all thousand men used mules and horses!

These weren’t foot soldiers; they were mounted rapid-mobile infantry.

"It’s over..." Being helped onto horseback, watching the black-red ranks of the Holy Alliance near, he abruptly sneered self-mockingly.

"Am I hurt?" Gael asked the servant beside him.

The servant looked him up and down, shaking his head.

Gael raised a dagger, stabbing it into his thigh, startling the servant: "Master, you?"

Pressing the gushing wound, Gael gasped silent in pain, he pointed with his whip: "Go! To the stone fort!"