Chapter 112: Chapter 37: Taking the Enemy General’s Head Amidst Thousands Reinforcements?!
A cheer erupted from the direction of the city gate, as the fresh forces joining the battlefield bolstered the defenders’ morale.
"Right flank, cover!"
"Spearmen, form ranks! Archers, ready!"
Hosa, experienced in warfare, swiftly adjusted his formation to meet the enemy. He deployed the Saxon elite axemen, intending to break through the reinforcements with a direct charge after the first engagement. The first volley from the British Legion’s javelins was devastating, and the elite axemen, lacking shields, had no choice but to charge into close combat.
But just then.
Duncan, leading the general’s guard, collided with the approaching Saxon pirate riders!
Kill!
Duncan, wielding a lance, led the charge with a roar to the sky, "Form up! Wedge formation!"
——Lance Charge.
Blood sprayed wildly!
Horses wailed!
Duncan’s figure, lance held high, instantly pierced the Saxon pirate riders’ leader upon impact, and with a sweeping motion, his immense strength knocked another pirate rider to the ground, where they were trampled to death by the following general’s guard.
The wedge formation is an extremely aggressive formation, typically led by the most elite cavalry, with numbers increasing in each rank, forming a triangular attack formation.
This formation has a strong frontal impact, capable of quickly piercing through enemy lines and disrupting enemy command. However, while highly mobile, its defensive capabilities are weak, and if the first wave fails to create a breach, the flanks can be encircled and suffer heavy losses.
This battle!
Duncan personally led the charge!
He was like a sharp blade, carving a bloody path at the moment of collision between the two armies, effortlessly spearing a Saxon pirate rider to death beneath his horse, causing enemy riders to scatter before him with no one able to stop him!
The general’s guard swiftly expanded the results of their breakthrough, completely disorienting the enemy’s formation. Once Duncan carved a path through them, the nearly hundred pirate riders were split open, unable to mount any organized resistance.
Horses thundered along.
Duncan lifted a Saxon pirate rider with his lance, the spearhead piercing their chest, blood gushing from their mouth. He lofted the enemy corpse above his horse’s head and flung it several meters away.
On a distant hillside, Hosa’s face was filled with shock.
Is this still a human?
He had seen Germanic berserkers with innate divine power, but never had he encountered a warrior like Duncan.
He now felt caught between a rock and a hard place, unsure whether to retreat or advance.
"Gather up!"
Duncan halted several hundred meters from the enemy commander, having routed nearly a hundred Saxon pirate riders in a frontal assault, slaying more than a dozen without even drawing his Nord Bow. Relying entirely on his astounding personal prowess and the lord’s armor scavenged from Duke of Dingtiger, he easily crushed these enemies.
His combat power in armor was too ferocious!
Duncan required almost no defense, spearing one after another, killing more than a dozen consecutively.
The setting sun stained like blood.
On the other hillside, the general’s guard regrouped behind Duncan. The original more than thirty riders were down to just 28, with several wounded but still ferocious as ever, tightly following.
This scene even stirred a hint of fear in Hosa.
He urgently maneuvered forces to guard his flanks, gathering the chieftain’s guard and forming a defensive line ahead.
"Follow me!"
Duncan raised his lance, and with a resounding shout, he circled the enemy’s right side. Viewed from above, he identified every flaw in their formation, their frontline defenses unable to stop him, his cavalry needing just a short detour.
"Chieftain, retreat to the central army," a personal guard rider whispered beside him.
The pressure from Duncan was too overwhelming!
In one charge, he directly routed pirate riders three times his number, such courage they had never witnessed in a knight.
The wind howled, horses galloped.
Duncan reunited the remaining 28 riders, setting their sights on Hosa’s chieftain’s guard.
"Go!"
Hosa finally withdrew; he had the advantage in numbers, and if he could outlast the enemy, victory would be his eventually.
His five thousand strong army seemed sizable, but in dense formations, they could be housed on a single field. The battlefield outside Exeter was spread from groups of dozens to hundred-man squads. When his chieftain’s guard moved, surrounding central army forces began to converge, aiming to use sheer numbers to block the enemy’s advance.
Among the crowd, figures in cloth with tattooed skin approached.
——Germanic priests.
Duncan instantly sensed the sudden approach of a target. Within the crowd, a priest was closing in towards them, and he immediately drew his Nord Bow, shooting the priest dead with one arrow.
Though magical prowess in the Middle Ages was weak, Duncan couldn’t afford to be careless.
The distant enemy was in shock!
Hosa seemed to recall something; with Duncan’s fierce charge earlier, he thought the opponent intended to forcefully slice through to kill him. But seeing Duncan take out his bow, he quickly realized that killing him wouldn’t require such a hassle.
A hundred steps, a bull’s-eye!