Starting with that cry, the soldiers began to move in unison.
Barcas took Tork's reins from the sudden servant and put himself on the saddle.
Just as he was about to run across the barracks and out of the checkpoint, the second son of the Blesston family, who was chasing him, shouted loudly.
"Your Excellency, we will join the battle!"
Barcas, who was looking down at the man's face with the reins in his grip, nodded lightly.
"You should join the right-wing camp."
The man didn't say anything and ran straight out of the checkpoint.
Following him, Barcas was moving towards the front line when he spotted the enemies flocking like a herd of water buffaloes and stopped his horse in the middle of the hill.
Inside the wide-open gates, huge warriors armed with heavy armor were pouring out endlessly.
Barcas, who was weighing the number, held out a hand to the servants who had rushed to support him.
Immediately, a massive ax spear weighing 8 kvets (about 240 cm) was in his hand.
When it was raised high and signaled to attack, Ballista, who was positioned along the ridge of the hill, poured out a volley of cast iron bolts.
With a sharp burst of sound, hundreds of huge arrows flew through the air, mercilessly piercing the bodies of the soldiers who rushed like angry wild boars.
In an instant, hundreds of soldiers were rolling on the snow-covered land.
However, the northerners did not flinch in the slightest. As if prepared to die, thousands of assault troops jumped over the corpses of their allies and clashed with the infantry spread out on the hill.
Barcas immediately stopped shooting. If he hurriedly rained arrows, he would also damage his allies.
He turned his horse's head and signaled the cavalry waiting on the left to charge. At the same time, mounted warriors dug into the flanks of the enemy camp.
As the enemies, swept away by the surging waves of warhorses, scattered, the central unit advanced. The enemy's formation collapsed in an instant due to the attacks from all sides.
At this rate, the game will be won within half a day.
Barcas, who was watching the situation in the bloody wind, immediately spurred his horse and jumped into the enemy camp.
The northerners continued their fierce offensive even when the battle line collapsed.
Barcas rushed at them without hesitation. A warrior wielding an axe at random was crushed under Tork's horse's hooves, pouring out blood and brainpower.
The soldiers who witnessed the devastation in front of their eyes stiffened their bodies.
Barcas did not miss the moment and swung the halberd diagonally and loudly.
A single trajectory cut through the necks and torsos of the three warriors at the same time, scattering blood everywhere.
Marching forward with a horseshoe, Barcas pierced the heavily armored soldier with a long, pointed spearhead at the end of the halberd.
He swung his spear and threw the corpse into the middle of the enemy camp, and the soldiers who rushed in with sacks were crushed by the bodies of their allies that flew like cannonballs and were scattered on the hill.
Witnessing the overwhelming scene, the warriors began to hesitate and retreat.
No matter how belligerent they were, they were just militias without professional military training. If you completely break morale, it will collapse in an instant.
Barcas raised his blood-soaked spearblade high and ordered the entire army to advance.
It was then. The sound of heavy horses' hooves echoed over the gently continuing hills.
Feeling a chill brush against his spine. Barcas turned his head to look back.
Heavily armed cavalry in black iron armor was shaking the earth and charging towards the allies. The number seemed to be in the thousands.
Barcas immediately turned his head and joined the right-wing camp. At the same time, the vanguard of the Black Iron Cavalry rushed into the friendly camp.
The heavy roar of the metal and the iron balls collided with the desperate cry of the war horse, cutting through the atmosphere.
He grabbed the spear with both hands and quickly scanned the formation of enemies that suddenly came in. The movement was unusual. They must have been professionally trained soldiers.
After making a quick decision, Barcas immediately crossed the front line and rushed towards the lead. As he swung the axe blade in the opposite direction towards the vanguard rider, the blood-soaked blade cut through the horse's neck and slashed the cavalryman's chest without hesitation.
However, the jockey reacted swiftly. The knight, who had escaped fatal wounds by throwing his body backwards, picked up the spear pole stuck in the floor and threw it at him.
Barcas swung his halberd straight away, bounced his spear, and charged his horse at the enemy.
The northerners made swift movements that made it hard to believe that they were armed with heavy armor.
The man, who had dodged the hooves that were flying over his head as he rolled on the floor, drew a long sword from his waist and rushed at him at lightning speed.
Barcas immediately set up a spear.
The longsword, which flew at breakneck speed, collided with the steel spear, and a tremendous roar resounded. The heavy impact that spread to his wrists, forearms, and shoulders made Barcas grit his teeth.
He wasn't an ordinary guy.
Holding the spear with both hands, Barcas examined the soldier's face covered by the mask with keen eyes.
At first glance, he could see red eyes shining brightly inside the helmet.
Is this Bjorn Brodar Heimdall?
Barcas spurred his horse and pushed him away. After a moment of faltering, the man quickly corrected his stance and retreated out of the attack range.
Carefully observing the movement, Barcas lowered the tip of the spear down as if alert, and a cavalryman who broke through the front line launched a surprise attack from the flank.
Barcas immediately rotated his spear to strike the enemy's attack, then turned the axe blade and slammed it down on the rider's shoulder.
Then, just as he was about to quickly retrieve his weapon and check the enemy commander again, he felt a tingling sensation spread through his fingertips.
He tightened his fingers, which had begun to twitch slightly, and hurriedly took a defensive stance.
However, a one-beat late move eventually created a fatal gap. Before he knew it, the man was close and stabbed his sword in his chest.
Instinctively, he turned his upper body to the side, so he was able to avoid being pierced by the long blade, but he couldn't stop the long blade from piercing his side.
Barcas frowned at the refreshing sensation of ice-cold metal penetrating his body.
However, it stopped moving only for a moment. Barcas, who raised his arm as it was, swung his axe blade over the opponent's head.
The man, whose eyes flashed with a sense of victory, with a sword embedded in his body, flinched and stepped back.
He could feel blood gushing from where the sword had escaped. However, Barcas didn't care and swung the halberd at breakneck speed.
The man deflected his attack and hurriedly widened the distance. At that moment, someone stood in his way.
"Stop it, Grand Duke! The wound!"
Barcas outmaneuvered his subordinates, who were trying to dissuade him, and pursued the enemy.
At that moment, he felt his body lean forward as if it were collapsing. Thanks to the fact that he immediately hit the floor with the tip of the spear, he was able to avoid falling from his horse, but the enemy general had already left the battlefield.
Barcas clutched his blood-soaked side and stared at the man's back as he walked away. Bjorn Brodar Heimdall, who had quickly retreated to the rear, was sitting on his new horse and ordering the retreat.
Did they launch a surprise attack from the beginning with the intention of creating an opportunity to take out the rebels of Amasek?
Barcas, who had been watching the enemy army quickly disperse after shaking the situation, gritted his teeth and corrected his collapsed posture. Then, as he raised his halberd to give the order to pursue, his vision suddenly turned white.
"Grand Duke!"
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