The Fatherland Is Proud of You (Currently Recommended, Please Keep Reading)

"Don't just stand there! Raise your guns!"

The Russian officer roared at the soldiers, still dazed from the fierce blow, his riding crop lashing down without pause.

Across from them, Kościuszko also shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Load!"

The Russian Army troops were elite Grenadiers after all. Under their officers' shouted curses, they quickly came to their senses, hurriedly raised their guns, aimed, and fired a somewhat ragged volley.

But it was still close-range fire from more than eight thousand Flintlock Guns. The Polish Infantry Line was instantly blasted full of gaps and holes.

Yet the Poles were like statues that felt no pain. They silently completed their loading and raised their guns once more.

"Fire!" Kościuszko slashed his saber downward.

Flashing firelight stretched to the end of the riverbank in an instant. Dense Lead Bullets crossed the short distance of thirty paces and burrowed viciously into Russian bodies, producing a string of dull, wet thuds.

More than four hundred men were hit and fell on the spot.

When the Russian commander ordered, "Forward five paces," most of the Russian Soldiers did not move. Instead, they stared in terror at the mangled corpses beside them and those who had not died immediately, rolling on the ground and howling in agony.

Then the Polish Infantry Line marched forward five paces as one!

With barely twenty paces between them, the two sides were practically face-to-face.

The Russian Soldiers no longer cared about orders. They instinctively fired at the enemy opposite them, trying to drive away these terrifying foes.

What greeted them, however, was another Polish volley.

The storm of Lead Bullets swept through them, and amid screams rising and falling one after another, the Russians collapsed.

Starting from the far south, soldiers threw down their weapons, turned, and fled. The