Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 644 - 386: What era is it now?_1
"I will fight alongside you in this battle."
"After this battle, I will select my Honor Guard."
It was not unusual for a Lord to fight alongside his men; in fact, the Lord often led the charge at the forefront of battle. But the significance of the latter statement was stimulating enough for them—the long-rumored recruitment for the Honor Guard had finally begun.
There was no need to discuss monetary compensation, as the Lord had already arranged that. The real key was the qualification to join the Honor Guard.
Fear of the Knights?
They had none whatsoever. On the contrary, the soldiers were becoming restless, eager to prove themselves.
Reynard stood silently to the side, his firm grip on the Longsword already signifying his stance. He would charge wherever the Lord pointed.
"Mount up! Prepare for battle."
Feeling the approaching hoofbeats draw closer, Lance wasted no more words—actions would be a more effective lesson than any words.
The Cavalry mounted up and, together with Lance and Reynard, charged out of the farm to confront the fiercely approaching enemy.
For Alvin, the journey thus far had been incredibly frustrating. He had been mocked by Barbarians but hadn't dared to attack them with full force. He had been inexplicably ambushed by Heretics, and even lowly peasants had dared to assault them.
But as the charge accelerated, Alvin felt an increasing exhilaration in his heart. Surely that Lord must be quivering at the sight of such an onslaught?
He could hardly wait to break through, drag that hiding Lord out from among his Maids, publicly humiliate him, then kill him! That would teach those lowly peasants for daring to pledge allegiance to such a worthless leader! This act was necessary to vent the rage he felt from being impeded by the commoners.
The thought of this gratifying act excited Alvin. But just then, a troop of horsemen emerged from the farm buildings, abruptly interrupting his fantasy. The Baron noticed this as well, and his expression grew somber.
Could an average person afford Cavalry? He, a Baron, could only maintain ten Knights along with ten Retainers.
Wasn't it said that Hamlet had fallen into decline? Why then did there seem to be a significant number of Cavalry here? What exactly is the situation in Hamlet?
The appearance of these Cavalry meant two things: the Barbarians were either dead or had fled. And from his understanding of the Warwolves, the Baron knew it was highly likely they had retreated. Otherwise, if they had encountered those groups of Barbarians and still maintained their formation, it would have been an impressive feat—a task even he wasn't confident in accomplishing.
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
"Be careful, there's something wrong!"
"Hahaha! Teacher, you're way too timid!" Alvin, though initially startled himself, burst into laughter upon seeing the ragged equipment on those horsemen. His roar was filled with a strong sense of superiority.
"A mere few dozen Cavalry? Watch me shatter them in one strike!"
In a sense, Alvin's attitude also represented that of the Knights. They had all started as Retainers, gradually climbing up, and naturally sneered at Cavalry who looked like they were clad in cobbled-together armor and didn't even have proper Lances.
You dare clash with me, you pitiful shrimp? Watch me slay you all in one round!
"Change to Lances! Prepare to charge!" Alvin roared out the order. Truth be told, it was rare to see Nobility leading the charge in battle these days, much less someone so young engaging in combat.
Changing weapons mid-battle was a complicated task that normally required a halt. However, they managed it with only a slight decrease in speed, simultaneously transforming their charging line formation. This spoke volumes of the Knights' skill and expertise.
The previous battles had actually been hindered by terrain and failed to showcase their true strength. But now, charging on this carefully leveled ground, their momentum became increasingly fierce.
No wonder they could claim to break the enemy in one round—they had the confidence to back it up.
In contrast, Lance's Cavalry stopped after rushing out of the farm, their rectangular formation beginning to transform. Lance stood still in the center as the Cavalry projected orderly to both sides.
They faced the oncoming Knights with a very abnormal V-shaped formation, as if opening a bag ready to ensnare them. But surely such a thin bag would be easily pierced, right?
As the charge neared, and the Hamlet Cavalry remained steady in the face of this, the Baron, beneath his helmet, looked even more serious.
Even the most elite Barbarian warriors from the Mountains would be thrown into disarray by a Knightly charge, so why are these men so calm?
This was definitely not the quality of ordinary soldiers; a sense of foreboding grew within the Baron's heart.
However, with the distance closing to fifty yards during the charge, the encounter was imminent, and he could only grip his Lance tightly.
But in the next second, he saw those Cavalrymen raising their muskets...
The Baron stared. Muskets?!
"One hundred fifty... one hundred thirty... one hundred!"
On the other side of the battlefield, Lance estimated the distance, waiting for the Knights to step within a hundred yards before shouting aloud.
"Ready—Fire!"
The Cavalrymen promptly took pre-loaded muskets from their sides and aimed at the Knights. They didn't even need to aim accurately; merely determining the general direction, they pulled their triggers. Instantly, a series of gunshots erupted, accompanied by rising gunsmoke.
The V-shape was chosen to maximize the muskets' firepower with crossfire, covering the enemy Knight formation as effectively as possible.
