"Raise your guns! Raise your guns!" The Corps Commander's roar was drowned out by the sound of metal scraping.

By now, the third and fourth walls had been almost completely breached, with large numbers of Knights crossing over them and entering the Imperial Guard's positions.

Along the defensive line, the Knights continuously pressed toward the Close Guard Cultivators, yet dared not get too close.

The whizzing lead and the thunderous Holy Thunder had left too deep an impression on them.

The Centaur Warriors, however, showed no fear.

Batu means Wolf God's chosen warrior.

If you feel fear, you do not deserve the name Batu!

Dozens of Centaur Batu appeared in front of the Close Guard Cultivators.

Standing eight feet tall, they wore double-layer cold-forged breastplates on their human bodies, and fish-scale armor draped over their horse bodies.

Such fearsome Centaur Batu, even a smaller Centaur clan could barely afford to support dozens of firepower warriors.

Like Mula Dala, being able to gather nearly a hundred Batu already made them akin to a prince-level power on the vast steppe.

Dala means prince.

Otherwise, the Grand Master would not have bothered to hire these hundreds to assist him.

"Cheap mortals! Feel the wrath of the Wolf God!"

The first Centaur Batu crashed into the gun formation, causing the gun shaft to break in the middle, with splinters of wood piercing straight into the leggings of the Long Spearmen in the rear.

The second Batu rode the momentum and reared up, stamping heavily on the chests of the Long Spear Cultivators.

The Long Spear Cultivators heard the sickening crunch of their ribs shattering and cried out in pain, unable to stop themselves from falling.

But before they hit the ground, they were already tossed three meters away by the bone spear of the third Batu.

After the three Batu opened the breach, Mula Dala charged in wielding a double-edged axe.

Haver could only watch as a fellow warrior in front suddenly halved in height.

That terrifying albino Centaur wielded a double-edged axe, sweeping horizontally, slicing through the bodies of four soldiers like stalks of wheat cut by a scythe.

......

"Your grace, are you still not going to act?"

Horn didn't speak, simply rubbing the hilt of Blood Covering Cloud continuously.

"Your grace?"

Acting as if he couldn't hear, Horn's sight remained fixed on the Border Knight Battle Banner flown by Cosme.

The battle banner billowed, slowly approaching the defensive line, then suddenly moving away.

Eighty meters, ninety meters, fifty meters, seventy meters, thirty meters...

Though it moved back and forth, it was still edging toward the position.

Until it completely crossed over what remained of the foundation base of the wall, Horn smiled, exposing his large teeth: "Finally fell for it."

"Woo-woo-woo—" The shrill horn dissipated into the vast sky.

An attack call? Why so far away?

Cosme turned abruptly, staring intently for a time — what attack call was that? The Imperial Guard on the mountain hadn't descended.

Unable to detect the anomaly of that distant attack call, he could sense the one right in front of him.

The sound of footsteps, the clatter of hooves; the entire Imperial Guard was turning towards the riverbank to retreat.

But clearly it was a retreat, why did it seem so... orderly? As if there were some kind of pattern.

The Holy Gunman's 5X6 small phalanxes slowly retreated, then fired, disrupting the Knights' assault.

Then the Long Spearmen left five ten-men teams behind to skirmish, while four ten-men teams gradually pulled back to catch up with the Holy Gunmen.

The Holy Gunmen executed a retreat firing style once more, disrupting the Knights' advance, allowing the five ten-men teams to retreat.

At this point, if the Knights pursued, they would inevitably be intercepted by the four remaining ten-men teams.

This is the Ancient Aier Legion's alternating retreat strategy!

Those who received classical military education included not only high aristocrats of Leia.

Cosme had also received classical military education, yet he never expected to see its revival from the enemy.

One three five seven nine, two four six eight...

Alternating retreat, repeatedly executed; though it was a retreat, the formation remained relatively stable without much chaos.

On the other hand, on their side, as they had aggressively attacked from the outset, the formation was chaotic from the start.

More frightening was that without properly assigning follow-up tasks, all banners were desperately pushing forward.

Unknowingly, they had been stretched into a long and densely packed queue.

Before Cosme could even react, Tadrashe was already sweating profusely.

He pushed through the crowded Knights, mounted on a black horse, pushing against the flow to reach Cosme's side.

The two exchanged looks and spoke simultaneously, "Tadrashe/Cosme, we can't keep attacking."

After saying this, both were stunned.

Just as Tadrashe was about to speak again to inquire how to stop, he suddenly noticed a cold glint behind Cosme.

"Watch out!" Grabbing Cosme's corner, Tadrashe pressed him down onto the horse's back.

Almost simultaneously, a Banner Captain, guarding beside Tadrashe, spurts blood from his throat, making raspy sounds but unable to produce any sound, collapsing onto the ground.

"Those Guerrilla Hunters again, they still dare come here?!" Tadrashe raised his head, his throat hoarse with anger.

Cosme didn't respond.

His sight was completely drawn to the river, past the horse legs, dense shoulders, interlaced armpits.

Within the tiniest gaps, he saw a gigantic form.

"A ship?"

"Boom—" A 12-pound cannonball descended from the sky, cleaving a Centaur Batu in half.

The Saint Sun's Ship on the river rocked violently, shaking off several unlucky crew members.

"Twelve-pound cannon." Cosme's voice was as bitter as unsweetened coffee.

Six more solid iron balls fell, plowing a furrow of blood through the crowd.

The two four six eight halted, while the one three five seven nine ceased to retreat; the Holy Gunmen's retreat firing style smoothly transformed into an advancing firing style.

For the first time, Cosme felt despair.

If at this moment the Imperial Guard truly retreated, relying on their mobility and unhindered actions, they could still achieve a grim victory or suffer a small defeat.

He never imagined the Thousand River Valley People could still employ alternating cancellation of retreat.

He laughed at himself when reading El Army's books, thinking how could anyone fall for such a simple feigned defeat strategy?

The laughter of youth was now a solid slap across Cosme's face.

The simpler the strategy, the more operations it required, and it was true after all.

White light illuminated his face, serpentine electric currents spilling out crawled along the air and ground.

Several Centaur Batu were instantly burned through the belly, with their pounding hearts exposed to the air.

Mula Dala fearfully leaped, all four hooves leaving the ground, lest he get struck by the aftershocks of the lightning.

"The Thunder God's power! The Thunder God's lightning has descended!"

"Thunder God's fury, my hands are powerless!"

Kicking their legs, Mula Dala and the Centaurs had never faced such an ordeal, genuinely believing the Thunder God had come, escaping like frightened deer.

Seeing the strongest forces fleeing, the remaining Knights still resisted the pressure, but their hearts felt the tension breaking.

They truly couldn't hold out any longer.

Since May, Bear Chomping Castle was abandoned without achievement.

In June, the bridge crossing was intercepted by the advancing Imperial Guard; the siege at Ladan Castle lasted half a month with no success.

The final chance squandered, resulting in near half casualties among the Border Knights, yet the situation still lost.

Was this the Holy Father's punishment on them?

Spiral guns fired volley after volley into the crowd, Knights, Sergeants, steeds and Centaurs, all pressed against each other.

Muscles torn by armor edges, beside the ears were the booming of spring cannons, the sizzling of plasma bombs, the ticking of clock bombs.

And most frightful of all, the squeaking of gears winding up tightly.

In this chaos of war, the casualty rate among Banner Captains and Knight Commanders was exceptionally high.

Anyone attempting to reorganize the troops would be instantly focused by five or six Helical Guns.

Cosme painfully closed his eyes, the Grand Master was right, he was indeed the fool.

But at least, he at least must preserve enough strength, and prevent more Knights from dying here.

"Retreat, retreat, knights on the perimeter retreat first!"

"Dismount and clear obstacles if there are any, knight brothers can pull horse-downed knight brothers!"

"Turn right, turn right, right..."

Cosme's words got stuck at the corner of his mouth as he saw the person beside him shouting at him.

Before he could react, he heard the clang of his helmet ringing, felt warm liquid flow from his chest, and then lost all consciousness.