Looking down incredulously at the spear tip protruding from his chest, he struggled to turn his head to see who had killed him. But with his lung pierced, each breath stole a large amount of his life. His lungs began to bleed rapidly, gushing from his mouth and nose. Finally, with wide-open eyes, he collapsed to the ground, like an enlarged Frog.
Jack sneered, pulling out his long spear. Taking two steps forward, he swung the spear tip, unhorsing another exceptionally skilled knight who had galloped past the first line of infantry. The knight hung on the spear tip like a rag as Jack flung him from his horse.
No one said infantry couldn't be stronger than knights!
A knight's power lies in the horse beside him; a knight without a horse is just infantry!
Jack didn't hesitate. He shot a look at a few nearby teammates, and they instantly understood. They were all veterans who had survived the first war, and facing knights was their favorite prey.
They reinforced their formation, even killing dozens of knights as soon as they entered the fray.
The knights' charge faltered. In that brief moment, the second and third ranks instantly took up their positions with the speed honed in training—now they faced three lines of spears!
The continuously charging knights were like a tide crashing against a reef, unable to advance no matter what.
A wall of bodies, both human and horse, had already piled up in front of the first rank.
Now they could easily rest their spears on this wall of corpses and thrust forward. If a knight with superb horsemanship managed to leap over, they would merely be turned into cheese by the spears held diagonally by the second rank and held high by the third rank.
Using at least two thousand enemy corpses, they pressed the remaining two thousand five hundred into immobility.
The archers had already retrieved their quivers three times. It's important to remember that Kayal's archers were all ace archers; they usually carried quivers with 32 arrows each. In other words, each of them had fired at least ninety arrows!
Even they couldn't help but feel their arms ache, their strength slowly diminishing.
But even so, it improved their accuracy: every arrow shot was sure to hit a knight. After realizing that the face was too small and difficult to kill with a single shot, the archers, suddenly understanding, began to rain their arrows onto the warhorses.
Unlike Camelot's traditional heavy horses, whose full body armor only covered their hooves, Scotland's warhorses, enhanced for mobility, were armored with iron plating only on their front, with their hindquarters covered by the saddle, exposing their strong hamstrings and flesh.
In fact, there was no real superiority or inferiority between the two, just like the current battle situation.
Camelot Knights could not cross this wall of flesh and blood, unless they could bypass the formation of nearly a hundred thousand knights, circle around to the back of the wall of flesh and blood, and charge again, which, of course, was impossible. Scotland Knights also could not break through this wall of flesh and blood, because every time they boasted that their horsemanship was superior to Camelot Knights, long spears longer than their bodies and arrows faster than lightning would turn them into porcupines the moment they leaped.
This was a stalemate.
But no knight surrendered or retreated to their main formation; instead, they launched desperate charges again and again... The ultimate outcome for this force, which could almost be considered the entire military strength of a duchy, was—total annihilation!
Bodies piled up like small mountains, shot dead, stabbed to death, or trampled to death by their own comrades at the front.
The gruesome sight of corpses piled like small mountains before the formation stood as a testament to their glorious military achievements.
No words were spoken.
Aside from the main formation, ten-man military police squads slowly appeared. They had the authority to execute deserters at the front lines. Of course, for the Red Leaf Ridge infantry, who had never deserted, the military police's only purpose was to tally military merits.
Those with fatal spear or arrow wounds earned one merit point. They began to cut off ears, just like the distant Huaxia, who, wielding long halberds, with bronze swords at their waists, and hard wooden bows and crossbows on their backs, fought while decapitating enemies, fearless of death, charging bare-chested against chariots—an unparalleled army like the Qin.
Their calm demeanor shocked the knights.
"Lord Andrew, do you want to try again?" Most of the warhorses on the field had been killed, and the ones that hadn't were easily taken by Kayal. Kayal's force of five thousand suffered one hundred fifty killed, fifty severely wounded, and two hundred lightly wounded. It's worth noting that the light injuries were mostly internal injuries and bruises from being hit by warhorses after they had slowed down, which they considered a great disgrace.
Facing Kayal's raised question, Andrew's face was extremely grim.
"Send out another five thousand men!" Andrew shouted to his attendant behind him.
"But, my lord!" A Great Sage stepped forward to advise, but was forced back by Andrew's piercing, cold gaze.
The title of Great Sage existed in most countries, and its function was merely as a senior advisor to the king, with no power to participate in politics or discussions. However, only Camelot's Great Sage was granted the title of Great Sage and possessed magic.
Merlin, that special woman.
Other Great Sages gained their right to speak entirely based on the king's favor. To be relegated outside of politics and sent to war showed how low this Great Sage's status was. To put it bluntly, in this knight-supremacist world, his status was even lower than a very promising young Knight Marquis!
Naturally, he retreated, casting an unwilling glance at the opposing formation, but remained silent. In his heart, however, he screamed: You fool, don't you see that long wall of flesh and blood? It's a natural defensive formation, leaving no room for ordinary knights! Unless you gather all the titled knights.
Clearly, the opponent's tactics were very effective. This time, the charge of five thousand knights was even more futile, and the casualties inflicted on Kayal's infantry were almost minimal: only twenty-odd, and those were from accidentally being struck by a thrown knight's spear.
Clearly, this was the knights' biggest weakness.
Lack of ranged attack!
Andrew, his face livid with rage, was about to order the knights to charge en masse when the enemy suddenly began clearing the corpses.
There was only one purpose for this.
Kayal and his men were going to attack!
"Lord Andrew, I have a suggestion, what do you think..." Kayal revealed his standard foxy smile, like a seasoned hunter setting a trap. Whenever Artoria saw Kayal's smile, it was when Kayal began to scheme against someone.