The blood, it couldn't be stopped.
He clearly knew that he was finished.
A crossbow bolt from a longbow had struck his left shoulder, deeply embedded in the bone, and his left arm was completely paralyzed.
A strangely long spear had pierced his abdomen; although he had avoided vital organs, it had gone straight through. Despite a subsequent charge that killed the spear-wielder, the severe injury he sustained was a fact.
"Legion Commander..." The Legion Commander was still fighting, still in the enemy ranks, but without his command, the Madesia Knights were already a name without substance.
Comrades... He turned his head and looked around.
There were no comrades left.
Warhorses neighed, having lost their masters.
Warriors lay on the ground, or had died on their horses... They had lost.
Of the Knight Order, only he and the Legion Commander remained.
The Madesia Knights... were gone.
No!
I'm still here!
I'm still here! The Commander is still here!
Madesia Knights!
"Long live!!!"
He held the banner high, no one left by his side.
"Long live the Madesia Knights!!!" Even though they only faced him, his opponents were filled with respect, waiting with solemnity as he slowly charged. There were no companions, no overwhelming pressure from a formation, but the crossbowmen still watched the charging Knight with serious expressions.
A single horseman, filled with an indomitable spirit and pride, was shot into a porcupine... Respect for the opponent, respect for oneself.
Medieval France often treated prisoners of war leniently.
It wasn't because they were particularly humane, but because the tables could turn. What happened to you today might happen to them tomorrow, so to avoid mistreatment tomorrow, it was better to treat them well today.
But the Knights of England were different.
The Knights of England regarded death in battle as glory; they feared not death, but only that their battle standard would be trampled and defiled.
Looking at the Knight clutching the battle standard, determined to die in a charge, Kayal sighed softly: "Why are such Knights in someone else's hands..."
Kayal, of course, knew that his own Knights were more elite than these, but he couldn't help but feel regret. These Knights typically took twenty to thirty years to train, let alone these elites. If they were under his command, they would surely achieve great military feats. To die here, in the Camelot civil war... it was simply too unworthy!
It was utterly rubbish!
Kayal looked at the soldiers beginning to clear the battlefield and cursed under his breath.
His disciples, however, did not share this sentiment. The entire camp was filled with excitement and confidence.
Because they had accomplished a myth... the myth of infantry defeating cavalry!
Regardless of their military ratio, simply the fact that they turned the tide from a disadvantageous position, and that most of the tactics they had previously simulated proved effective and efficient, was a remarkable step forward.
And the soldiers were even simpler; glory belonged to the Knights and had nothing to do with them. All they needed were contribution points: after this battle, they would probably become citizens, right? No, perhaps even rise to nobility!
The militiamen who had personally slain several Knights felt invigorated and full of wishful thinking.
"What's going on!" Kayal snapped out of his disciples' incessant reports, turned his head, and roared. Hoofbeats were already close, and their formation was completely scattered!
Three hundred riders came, a small number... very few compared to five thousand militiamen.
But the five thousand militiamen's formation was already completely chaotic. Those clearing the battlefield formed one group, spearmen another, the crossbow formation another, archers another, and Kayal's staff sat behind him.
And now, the enemy was rampaging through the crossbowmen's ranks. Although the archers and crossbowmen had practiced close combat, drawing their short swords to resist now, they were so weak and powerless. Against the cavalry's powerful charge and the Knights' lances, they were like straw, easily slaughtered.
In an instant, Kayal's eyes turned red.
"We can't let them do this!" Kayal shouted, simultaneously brandishing his Claymore: "Those with horses, follow me!!!"
His shout made Artoria's face change. Her hand, wearing a Knight's gauntlet, moved a few fractions of a second slower, failing to grab Kayal's sleeve. In that instant, Kayal mounted his Unicorn and loudly declared: "All liberal arts students immediately retreat into the city! Martial arts students, mount up and follow me to kill the enemy!!"
"Kay! You can't go!" Before Artoria could finish speaking, Kayal tugged the reins, making the Unicorn turn and charge towards the enemy.
"Damn it! I'm definitely going to beat you up when you get back!!!" Artoria was furious. She yanked the reins of her own bay horse, mounted it, and charged after Kayal.
And the Claymores were not to be outdone, advancing with Kayal. Any charging Knights were individually knocked to the ground by the Claymores. Although they had left their organization, they tried not to kill ordinary people if possible.
Suddenly striking down a Knight, the Unicorn also directly broke the bones of the opponent's warhorse. Kayal was momentarily lost in thought. Years ago, when he faced Merlin, he had said that he would never learn offensive magic, would never use magic to kill. But now, wielding a Claymore and riding to kill was no different from magic... Perhaps the only difference was that magic was more efficient.
Kayal's perception magic was at its maximum, dozens of light clusters like eyes allowing Kayal to take in the entire battlefield situation.
Behind Kayal followed a group of scattered and defeated soldiers; he was constantly rescuing his subordinates from small Knight detachments.
Eventually, the Knight detachments slowly gathered, no longer chasing the scattered soldiers, and Kayal, due to his particularly dazzling performance on the battlefield, also slowly gathered his subordinates.
Looking grimly at the scattered and defeated soldiers behind him, Kayal shouted: "Call the roll, count off!!!"
Three thousand men!
Against the Madesia Knights, only about three hundred and fifty had died. Although there wasn't a detailed count, Kayal had seen it clearly from the high ground behind.
But facing the charge of these guys, Kayal had lost two thousand men!
No, perhaps there were some wounded and disabled, but they were negligible. Around three thousand men... over half casualties!
Thanks to the routine training and squad-based grouping, even if they lost their captains, squad leaders, and column leaders, they could immediately obey other senior officers and gather.
Squinting, Kayal's eyes glowed green. If he hadn't fought bravely just now and gathered many people, that battle might have caused the Red Leaf Ridge infantry formation to disappear... Damn it, who are these people coming from the opposite side!?