The shouts of the French Soldiers instantly drowned out the "Ula" cries from across the field.
Everyone gripped the Guns in their hands with all their strength, bayonets glinting coldly as they pointed them at the gray "waves" ahead and charged forward with unstoppable momentum.
The entire formation had already dissolved into chaos like a swarm of ants. No soldier knew where his unit was, they could barely find their company officers, and even the comrades at their sides were unfamiliar faces.
But none of that mattered. They knew only that they and every person here were brave citizens of France.
They would crush every enemy!
"Charge!"
"Victory belongs to France!"
The white torrent began to surge, swiftly gathering into the terrifying force of an avalanche.
At last, the white and gray "waves" smashed viciously together on the vast plain, as though some unheard thunderous crash had shaken heaven and earth.
Blood sprayed into the air. Amid roars and screams, hundreds of soldiers from both sides fell dead in an instant.
The Russians were immediately startled.
The people in white Military Uniforms across from them seemed not to know that bayonets could kill. Fearlessly, they hurled themselves toward the blades, seeking only to drive their own bayonets into Russian chests.
Victory or defeat was decided in less than a minute.
Shouting "For the fatherland," the French Soldiers did not even glance at their fallen comrades. They simply kept using the most basic thrusting motions to kill the enemies blocking their path, then searched for their next targets with bloodshot eyes.
Quite a few fierce Russian Soldiers also charged into the wildly swinging bayonets, thrusting the square-edged bayonets on their Guns at the French. But their barrels were immediately seized in a death grip by soldiers opposite them, and then blades