If the main general does not stay at the rear, those at the rear are likely to follow the retreating troops.

Rubeer had already prepared a twenty-man Long Halberd Team just for rear guard action.

His Majesty mentioned in the "Soldier's Manual", there should always be a reserve team!

"Who said that? It's not like we're asking you to stop them." Hilier finally caught his breath after running all the way, "Aren't there bulletproof pits on the ground?"

......

When penetrating the defensive line, Tadrashe himself did not expect it to be so easy.

Marching in neat steps, the rear army's Holy Gunmen and Long Spearmen steadily retreated, with only a few Long Spearmen still entangled on the front line.

Only when a breach was broken through and there was no subsequent replacement, did these Long Spearmen fight and retreat as they went.

"Have you chosen to shrink the defensive line? A foolish choice."

Watching the Close Guard Cultivators still battling his side, Tadrashe sat on a horizontal log.

Shrinking the defensive line means giving up the position and advantageous terrain.

Originally, it was a plain and hillside L-shaped pincer attack on the Knights, now it became Knights pincer attacking the Imperial Guard in the plain.

Exposing the rear of an open plain, and still wanting to fight head-on?

Wait a minute...

As the other knights rejoiced wildly, Tadrashe suddenly felt something was amiss.

What he could think of, could the enemy commander not think of?

These Close Guard Cultivators clearly had strength left.

Looking at the Knights and Thousand River Valley soldiers still engaged in battle, one of them suddenly stumbled and fell into a deep pit behind him.

Then, as if agreed upon, these soldiers jumped into the deep pit one after another.

Deep pit?

Tadrashe's body reacted before his consciousness, diving behind a warhorse's corpse.

"Quick, lie down! Find something to block yourself!"

However, it was already too late.

At this moment, heaps of Knights were crowded into a passage of about ten meters wide, even standing shoulder to shoulder.

The Knights behind them continued to complain, pushing forward just to earn the credit of taking the position.

Upon hearing Tadrashe's words, the Knights were first puzzled, then looked up.

Under the sunlight, ten or so Spring Cannons swaying were emitting a metallic sheen of iron and copper.

"Praise Holy Thunder!"

The instant they heard the command, the soldiers in the deep pit shrank their necks and looked up.

Under the blue sky, a swarm whizzed past—a pile of iron sand and lead pellets.

First, the three Spring Cannons on the left sounded, blood blossoms bloomed in the cicada-singing early summer.

Then, the four Spring Cannons in the center sounded, iron spheres rolled out four bloody tunnels in the crowd.

Finally, the three Spring Cannons on the right sounded, removing all illegal creatures on the sides of the bloody tunnels.

The Holy Gunmen seamlessly followed up with three-form shooting, perfectly matching the rhythm of the Spring Cannons, turning the last stroke of green on the ground into red.

Three rounds of shelling and two rounds of volley fire left hardly anyone standing on the infantry passage.

If anyone remained, they were trembling, both thighs shaky, half their body dyed in red blood.

After three rounds of shelling, what Rubeer could see, besides the corpses scattered everywhere and the Knights surrendering, was only the fleeing backs of Tadrashe and the surviving Knights.

Had it been ordinary people or even ordinary Imperial Knights, they would have been annihilated long ago, but these Knights, tsk tsk.

Though they were the enemy, the will and combat power of these Border Knights were nonetheless admired by Rubeer and his men.

Compared to the "drama actors" in the Empire's arena, these Border Knights had more of a soldier's demeanor.

As Rubeer's gaze shifted back to the infantry passage, the rich smell of blood assaulted his senses.

These Border Knights took potions while charging, their hearts trained by breathing techniques were strong and powerful, with high blood pressure.

Every time an iron ball and lead pellet rolled past, it was like a blood fountain spurting out a two to three-meter-high spray.

For some reason, witnessing this scene, Rubeer actually felt an indescribable sense of artistry.

But he quickly snapped back to reality: "Long Spearmen, move forward, behind the chest wall, regardless of minor or major injuries, ensure complete elimination."

......

"11."

"8."

"15."

"..."

On the mound, having left the range of the Spring Guns and Spring Cannons, the Knights gathered under the shade of the trees and began counting their remaining forces.

"Is this right?"

"Why not count again?"

"How could ... how could there only be one hundred and two left?"

What happened to the two hundred and fifty valiant Knights? Where did they go?

Unwilling to turn their heads to look, confusion and fear finally spread across the faces of these Border Knights.

Could this be a wall made of iron? Could the Imperial Guard be people made of iron?

For any ordinary army, facing the Knights' charge would have meant collapse.

This kind of morale, this kind of resilience, they had only ever witnessed among the Skeleton Army of the Blood and Flesh Royal Court.

This kind of valor, this kind of destructive power, they experienced only in the Vampire Duke's magic.

Even in combat with the Blood and Flesh Royal Court, unless encountering the Ogre Warlords' personal troops, they didn't face such tough opponents!

The Ogre Warlords' personal troops were merely seven to eight hundred, but here, there were four to five thousand.

Looking at the seemingly soft but resilient front line that held until now, many Border Knights felt a sense of absurd despair rising in their hearts.

Could the Thousand River Valley People be sent by the Holy Father to punish them?

"Holy Father, what did we do wrong?"

While the Border Knights despaired, Tadrashe was bursting with joy.

Yes, he was bursting with joy.

His heart was pounding, the potion-induced hot blood surge was making his vision begin to blur.

But this didn't stop him from remaining clear-headed.

There was a limit to the number of Spring Cannons, if they suddenly had more than a hundred Spring Cannons out of nowhere, they wouldn't need to fight, just run.

If, at this moment, the Spring Cannons by the riverside were firing far more intensively than before, it must have been because there were more Spring Cannons brought in from elsewhere.

Tadrashe looked towards the middle section, at the direction of the third and fourth chest walls.

The whistling sound of lead breaking through the air persisted there, but the cannon sounds were not as dense as before.

"Everyone, follow me to the middle segment's chest wall!"

"But..."

"There's no time to explain, mount up quickly!"

Among the befuddled Border Knights, only five or six dozen followed Tadrashe towards the middle chest wall.

The rest were disheartened, either heading back or choosing to return to the original position.

Tadrashe had no time to mind their feelings, his attention was wholly attracted to the middle segment's defensive line.

A hundred or so meters of distance was just ten seconds on horseback.

The Imperial Guard, still in a standoff, seemed to hesitate for a moment when they noticed their approach.

Then came the urgent sound of bugles.

Indeed, indeed, the opposing commander made a mistake!

Beneath the helm, Tadrashe's face bloomed with a chrysanthemum-like smile.

The commander of the Thousand River Valley People had allocated more than the usual number of Falcon Cannons to support the side near the river.

He guessed it was because of the crucial Hydraulic Winding Machine there, requiring extra protection.

But he forgot, Spring Cannons moved slowly, their speed at most matched a soldier's normal pace, how could they outrun cavalry?

Tadrashe almost howled in delight, his judgment was correct, those Knights didn't die in vain!

......

"The Thousand River Valley People made a mistake in haste."

Cosme was hunched over his horse, making the same judgment as Tadrashe.

Though his tone was stable, his fingers trembled involuntarily.

He had been through over fifty battles large and small, yet rarely had he been as nervous, as thrilled, as he was this time, apart from his very first time on the battlefield.

Putting on his bird-beaked helm, Cosme raised the visor, glanced at the still-fierce stairway slope battle.

It was about time.

"The last ten flag teams, ready, follow me."

Turning his horse around, Cosme ran about fifty meters, facing the Centaurs kneeling among the flower and herb cluster resting.

"Mula Dala brothers!" Cosme stood solemnly in front of a Centaur named Batu, "Now is the time for you to help."

The Centaur extended his hooves and stood up.

Though riding a horse, Cosme had to look up at Mula Dala.

"The slaves and treasures that you meddle with are done with, I will take the root man's head and kill you!"

The seemingly albino Centaur kicked up his heels, shook off the dirt, and placed the helmet on his head.

"Have no worries! I'll take the Thousand River Valley general's head and make it into my drinking cup!"