What was it like when knights charged into an almost undefended camp?
It was as carefree and effortless as playing polo: they lowered their lances and drove them into every living thing in the camp.
More than thirty knights rapidly weaved back and forth through the camp, which covered less than five acres, efficiently slaughtering every remaining auxiliary soldier.
When it was all over, the knights slowed their horses, giving the warhorses time to relax their muscles and steady their breathing. The infantry finally arrived and took full control of the camp.
Five hundred meters was only two or three minutes at a full sprint for infantrymen, while the knights had already finished clearing the area.
Although the horses' muscles had relaxed and their coats shone brightly, the knights rode to assemble at the southeast gate of the camp. Beneath their helmets, every one of them was thrilled by their recent victory.
"This was only a warm-up. A great victory is waiting for us up ahead. Do you see the battlefield ahead?
"We'll take the paths through the fields, circle around to the east of the battlefield, and punch through the enemy formation from the side!"
It was an excellent plan, because the battlefield between the besieging camp and the wooden wall lay on a gently rising slope.
Having the cavalry appear directly behind the enemy would not only attract attention, but would also leave the horses unable to reach their most effective charging speed.
Taking a detour might likewise attract the attention of the enemy attacking the city, but moving along the relatively flat country paths through the fields would make it easier for the horses to accelerate.
The knights adjusted their equipment and gave their horses ample time to recover. Then, at a brisk trot, they circled up the slope.
By then, the battle for the city had also reached its most intense stage.
The pirates attacking the wall used enormous shields over a meter high and a meter wide to hide themselves. One after another, they formed an unstoppable advance toward the city wall.
The defenders facing them head-on could hardly stop their advance, whether by using pushing poles or spears. However, the pirates could not defend against the stray arrows shot at the walkway from the side.
At the same time, more than a hundred archers and crossbowmen hiding beneath shield carts kept firing upward at the wall, disrupting the defenders' rhythm.
If the wooden wall had not been fitted with outward-projecting wooden lattices that made it impossible to fire upward at the wall from that angle,
there would not even have been room for anyone to stand atop the wall.
"The young master will never abandon us! Believe in the Holy Light, believe in the young master! Push, children! Push!"
Old Adam no longer knew how many times he had shouted words of encouragement. The heavy shields before him had been knocked askew countless times, and figures kept falling from the top of the wall—some were pirates brought by the viscount, while others were defenders on the wall.
These people were too young. Even though they had the experience of Divine Favor retainers, and even though their nerves could be harder than steel, several of the young men had not had time to convert their talents into immediate combat strength.
They were hacked to death by nameless pirates atop the wooden wall of this nameless manor.
"Think of the old and young in the village! Wherever pirates pass, not even a blade of grass survives! Fight to the death!"
Amid furious shouts, a steel crossbow pierced a wooden shield, and the bolt pierced the shield-bearer's arm. The pirate cried out in pain, his body tilting sideways as he fell off the walkway.
But behind him was another pirate, using a ship's plank as an enormous shield.
"Last batch of fire oil!"
Adam did not know how many times he had shouted that, but fortunately, the pirates who had heard his bluff the previous time were already dead. The pirates on the walkway still panicked.
"They have knights! There are knights below the wall!"
What the pirates received was not fire oil poured over their heads, but the selfless shout of a young knight on the wall.
"Praise the Holy Light, the young master is back!"
Below the wall, after accelerating along the level road, the knights followed behind Ergons, with Adamson and William forming the twin blades at their spearhead as they punched sideways through the battlefield.
The scattered archers standing about haphazardly were already dead the moment they heard the thunder of hooves, because there was no way they could evade the knights' charge.
The cavalry thundered forward at full speed, their lances extending parallel ahead. Banners were repeatedly struck and tossed high into the air, while sharp blades swept past necks and skimmed over the saddle bows.
To these archers, the knights' charge was an unsolvable nightmare. There was nowhere to flee and no way to resist.
The swift charge killed many people not only with weapons, but by smashing them to death and trampling them underfoot.
The sounds of collisions rang out without end. Screams rose one after another, then abruptly stopped. Soon, the cavalry had broken through the entire battle formation and began slowing down and turning around.
Viscount Swedish was dumbfounded. His hand, which had been groping the quartermaster, began to tremble. If he had not been sitting securely on the carriage, he might have fallen from his horse.
"Weren't they at the easternmost end of the barony? Hadn't they left? What were the scouts I sent out doing?"
The viscount was genuinely panicking. Food spittle sprayed from his frantic mouth and clung to his great red beard.
"Don't panic, Viscount, don't—"
"Shut your mouth!"
The viscount angrily shoved away the quartermaster trying to comfort him. Standing on the carriage shaft and gripping the frame, he shouted, "All infantry, get down from the wall and assemble around me! Archers, shoot them dead!"
The viscount's command was perfectly sound. After shouting it, he even gave the driver a quiet order: "Fall back. Have the guards return to the command tent and confirm whether it's safe! Quickly!"
However, his orders were meaningless. The archers who had just been cut through once were even more scattered now.
Forget launching an effective attack without orders—some of them did not even know where they were trying to flee.
With such a chaotic situation behind them, the knights seemed completely unconcerned that the enemy might shoot at them.
Everyone gradually slowed down. After making an extremely wide turn, the horses turned their heads back in the proper direction.
Unlike light cavalry, these horses carried too much weight. After every charge, they needed time to relax and recover.
The soldiers under the viscount's command included pirates, mercenaries, and caravan guards. Their individual abilities varied, as did their responses to orders.
There were indeed still some who could obey the command and shoot at the knights preparing to charge again.
But then, what was the point of wearing armor?
A few arrows whistled past them. The occasional ones that struck a knight simply bounced off his heavy armor.
"Shoot! Quickly, gather together and shoot, or not one of you will survive! Can any of you outrun warhorses?"
Amid the chaotic battlefield, the stewards, mercenary leaders, and minor nobles who had gathered began to play their part.
Viscount Swedish's troops finally seemed somewhat less panicked.
Under the viscount's forceful orders, the archers began firing in some numbers. However, the crossbow bolts and arrows did not have much effect.
The constant whistling of arrows flashed past the ears of every knight, but no one was overly tense. Not a single person let the falling arrows disrupt his rhythm.
They continued methodically letting their horses walk forward to recover their strength. Arrows repeatedly slammed into their armor or the horses' barding, but no one sped up because of it.
They could not afford to lose formation. As long as they remained steady, these battle-hardened warhorses would not panic, and victory was certain.
On a battlefield, far more knights died from being thrown or dragged after their horses panicked than from being defeated head-on. Especially in fights between knights and units on foot, the knight was the answer to everything.
The knights followed their rhythm: form ranks, advance, accelerate, lower their lances, relax their wrists, and lock their shoulders!
"Bang, bang, bang, bang..."
"Thud, thud, thud, thud..."
When the knights plunged into the archers' formation, the archers behind the ladder carts collapsed on the spot. Their rout and flight infected the infantry formation that had been pulling back, and the orderly retreat instantly descended into chaos.
The various minor leaders who had originally been bunched together began fleeing with their men.
Everything was beyond saving.
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