A Commoner's Courage

The Morocco Black Guard Corps fought with great discipline; under the command of their officers, their line formations quickly rotated, transforming into reinforcements facing the France.

Nearly a thousand Blacks soldiers, arranged in four lines, charged straight toward the French Army, urged on by bugle calls.

Ney himself stood at the forefront of the Infantry, drew his sword, pointed it at the densely packed, dark-clad soldiers opposite him, and shouted:

"Don't be afraid, they are all kidnapped slaves, they don't know anything about fighting! As long as you fire like you did in training, they will escape soon!"

Although that's what he said, the neat formation of those Morocco soldiers showed that they were rigorously trained and their combat effectiveness should not be underestimated.

Soon, the Morocco army closed in to within 80 paces, and some of Ney's soldiers, in a panic, began firing without authorization.

Fortunately, the panic did not spread. When the two were about 60 paces apart, Ney swung his sword with all his might.

"Shooting!"

The uneven flashes of light from over 200 Charleville 1763 Flintlock Gun caused the Morocco to pause briefly, but the opposing side almost immediately resumed their advance.

At the same time, because the Morocco outnumbered their troops several times over, the long, narrow Infantry Line began to converge inwards at both ends, Ney and his men.

"Don't be afraid!" Ney, still braving enemy fire, stood at the front of the column, loudly encouraging morale. "Don't let your hands shake, load quickly. Our men will be here soon, these slaves won't do anything to you!"

His 200 soldiers, who had been farmers not long ago, felt much more at ease seeing Commander Ney standing there without fear. Following the drumbeats, they exchanged fire with the Moroccan Guard Corps at a distance of 40 paces.

Ney heard bullets whizzing past his ears, followed by a piercing scream from behind him.

He turned his head and saw that at least 20 people had been shot, their bodies torn in large chunks by bullets, and they lay on the ground writhing and struggling like fish thrown ashore.

The surrounding soldiers, covered in their blood and entrails, stood frozen in fear, some even inching backward in terror.

"Hold on!" Ney picked up a dead soldier's gun, began loading Ammunition, and shouted, "Remember the oath you took when you came here. Just hold on for another half hour, and you'll return home laden with honor! Your families and fellow villagers will be proud of you, and your stories will be told among your neighbors!"

"And all of this started with your loading hands. Get moving, now!"

He then looked at the fewer than 300 Tunisia soldiers on his flank:

"You've all had enough rest, haven't you? On my command, fire!"

He quickly loaded his gun and aimed at the approaching black face. At his urging, the French Army soldiers finally began to pour Gunpowder into their gun barrels, their voices trembling, while the Tunisia soldiers raised their guns again.

"Aim--"

"Shooting!"

Ney shouted and pulled the trigger.

Gunfire erupted behind him, almost touching their faces. The Morocco were surprised that the French Army could organize a volley. Nearly 30 men fell to the ground. The soldiers on either side of the dead instinctively turned their backs to avoid the bullets.

"Great! You did it!" Ney's voice was already a little hoarse, but she still shouted with all her might, "Keep loading, don't stop!"

There was no wind near the battlefield, and the thick Powder Smoke obscured the French Army soldiers' vision, which ironically prevented them from being too afraid. In any case, Commander Ney was still with them, which meant the situation wasn't too bad.

The Tunisia soldiers nearby also began firing intermittently, and the Morocco, under this barrage of fire, actually began to retreat.

As the enemy's footsteps began to recede, the France and Tunisia who were still standing there, even those who had wet themselves in fear just moments before, let out a cheer of relief.

Ney was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he faintly heard a "bang bang" knocking sound coming from both wings, and his pupils immediately contracted.

The Morocco surrounded them from both sides.

They barely withstood the frontal attack; if they were caught in a pincer movement, they would surely collapse immediately.

He closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, and pondered which direction to launch his counterattack—retreating was impossible; at such close range, turning his back to the enemy would be tantamount to suicide. A fierce attack on one side might buy him some time.

It's just a question of whether these soldiers can adjust the direction of the line formation in time...

He muttered to himself, but not a single thought of surrender crossed his mind. He had grown up listening to his father, a soldier, talk about the Seven Years' War, and he despised cowards who surrendered. He firmly believed that he was the one who could fight the enemy to the very last moment.

Ney ran back and forth, loudly ordering the officers to lead the soldiers to turn north.

However, just over ten minutes later, he heard a cacophony of Arabic speech behind him.

He looked at his soldiers again, still huddled together in a chaotic mess, not to mention the Tunisia.

This formation was utterly incapable of fighting. A chill ran through him; he hadn't expected that his first real battle command would also be his last...

Just as he was preparing to fight the Morocco to his death, the sound of horses' hooves came from the south again.

"Have the enemy cavalry come up too?"

He smiled and shook his head, drew his sword, and pointed behind the Powder Smoke:

"Come on, I'm not afraid of you!"

After a short while, the Morocco attack seemed to slow down, and then, barely audible gunfire could be heard from their rear.

Although Ney didn't know what was going on, he immediately seized the opportunity and urged the soldiers to line up.

As the Powder Smoke finally cleared, he quickly stood up on his horse and looked south through his Telescope. He saw a troop of cavalry in white Military Uniform harassing the enemy from the flank and rear, forcing the Morocco to tighten their formation and defend.

"It's those Nobility!"

For the first time in his Ney found those Nobility lords not so annoying anymore, and turned to the soldiers excitedly:

"Our reinforcements have arrived! Victory is ours!"

Chanel spurred his Feinu, swiftly passing by the Morocco army, and raised his musket to pull the trigger on the dark-skinned enemy soldiers.

At a distance of more than 80 paces, Carbine is not lethal, but its loud noise can frighten the enemy.

As more than 150 Nobility cavalrymen roared towards the nearby town and turned to regroup, the Morocco were thrown into chaos by the sudden attack and quickly chose to retreat.

Moreau ordered his soldiers to move closer to their own side and quickly spotted Ney in the crowd.

He stepped forward, gracefully raised his hat, and smiled:

"Lieutenant, you seemed to be surrounded by the enemy. Luckily, I arrived in time to save you. How about that? Were we awesome?"