A French soldier looked forward with his toes. He was a child who was not old and had just grown a layer of fluff on his lips.

From the nervousness of participating in the battle for the first time to the confusion of being idle, the young Frenchman was neither experienced nor too excited. The passionate pursuit of honor made him want to squeeze in front of him to replace the cowards who could not move forward. At the same time, he imagined himself as the cavalry riding on a tall war horse and rushing towards the enemy formation.

So when he heard the thunder of the vibrating ground coming from the far side, he was completely unaware.

The Frenchman's eyes were completely attracted by the burning enemy car array. At this time, he seemed to have seen a wealth of spoils and those envious gazes when he returned to his hometown.

The first thing he realized was a veteran not far from this young man. His experience made him hear the sound of horse hooves getting closer and closer, and he heard from the sound that it was coming to them behind the team.

Our cavalry is in front, so who are these behind?

And they were running towards their own team, but they could not hear the sound of slowing down the horse.

The veteran almost felt the danger approaching when he heard the sound, but he had only had time to warn "There is an enemy!" and saw the black shadows rolling from the slope, rushing towards their team in the dark with countless shiny black shadows.

The young Frenchman finally did not see the trophy and no longer had the chance to enjoy the envious eyes of the people in his hometown. After the veteran issued a warning, he had not yet figured out what was going on. He felt a cold wind suddenly penetrated from his head, and then the cold wind quickly passed through his upper body. Before he fell to the ground, he saw black shadows rushing past the side, and a few drops of hot things splashed on his face. He didn't know it was his own blood, and he didn't know that his neck had been cut open, which directly cut off the neck bone.

The Bohemians ran forward almost along the edge of the French infantry team. Few of them wore heavy armor, nor did they use spears and cavalry swords that represent the glory and courage of the knights. On the contrary, the more pagan sabers were their most advantageous weapons. Whenever they flew past the enemy, they would not even wait for the other party to react. With the speed of the galloping horse and the waving of Kong Wu's powerful thick arms, the sharp sabers would instantly leave a hideous and terrifying wound on the poor enemy like cutting through cheese. Regardless of whether the knife was really successful, the Bohemians would not stop and continue to entangle. They would leave this enemy to their companions who followed behind, and at the same time urged the war horse to continue running forward, swinging the sword to slash the next enemy again.

Viscount Gronob saw the enemy rushing down to the left of the hillside, all his attention was attracted by the Bohemians over there.

Although I don't know who the group of cavalry suddenly appeared, the Viscount knew clearly that the appearance of these enemies caused him trouble.

He watched the Bohemians approach the French cavalry from behind at a whirlwind speed, and then, when the cavalry knew that the enemy had appeared behind them, they had to continue running forward because the charge had begun and could not turn the direction in time, they chased them at an extremely fast speed, and then began to attack them from behind.

Viscount's anger at this moment cannot be described in any language. These enemies, no matter who they are, were angered by the despicable means that Tatars and Turks used by them. Viscount could accept being defeated by the enemy in a face-to-face battle, but could not tolerate such sneak attacks by a group of enemies who dared not even face to face.

"Roar up, rush... go up!" The Viscount endured the unusual pain coming from his ribs every time he made a sound, which made him shout at the distance. This made him feel too excited and didn't pay attention to the sudden change of expression of the follower knight beside him, and he didn't pay attention to the sudden chaos coming from the infantry team behind him, a little far away from him.

"Sir!" The follower suddenly grabbed the viscount's arm and forced him to turn around. Although it almost fainted due to the pain, when he saw the shadows that could not be swept by the infantry side, Viscount Gronob finally knew that the matter was serious.

The French had enemy cavalry on both sides of the hillside, and now they were attacking from both sides.

The Bohemian on the left was chasing a group of crazy and unstoppable French cavalry, while the cavalry on the right flew away like driving away the flock of sheep, swinging quickly behind and beside the French infantry team, slashing and slashing.

"Sir, what should we do?" The entourage asked nervously as he watched the constant fighting between the two sides. When he saw the viscount turning his head in a daze, a chill rose in his heart.

"Let the cavalry turn back, and turn back to the cavalry!" Viscount Gronob finally shouted the order, but he soon knew that the order was obviously impossible to execute at all.

The chariot formation was right in front of me, but the French cavalry who were running had to try their best to change directions. The few cavalry who were rushing in front could only rush into the chariot formation with their crazy shouts and relied on the huge impulse.

The first cavalry who rushed into the chariot formation didn't even have time to see the scene in front of him. The front legs of the war horse were tripped by the already ragged carriage. As he let out a scream, the cavalry's body rushed forward, accompanied by a broken white crack in his terrified eyes. The scream came to an abrupt end when the wooden beam penetrated his face armor.

More French cavalry were moving around the chariot formation, trying to get rid of the Bohemians behind, but the heavy armor made their horses unable to get rid of the enemies behind. After one or two cavalrymen who tried to force their heads to fight heads and faced them heads, no one dared to stop again by the swift bohemian sabre.

Alexander held the spear tightly in his hands, and next to him, Sophia held two muskets in each of them. Her face was already darkened by gunpowder, and only her big black and white eyes looked so prominent and bright.

But these eyes were staring at the front at this time. When she raised her hand and roared, a cavalry horse instantly neighed and fell to the ground.

Sophia threw away the musket, and Uriu, who was waiting beside her, had immediately handed another gun to her hand. As the gunshot sounded again, another Frenchman fell to the ground not far away as he answered the gun.

A strange and familiar sound of trumpet came from the direction of the French infantry team not far from the right.

Before Alexander could turn his head to see, Nashan's laughter came from behind.

The gypsy jumped out of a stolen box cart. The saber in his hand drew a circle quickly and powerfully. The blade accurately smeared the gap in the neck armor of a French cavalry who was lucky to have not been stabbed into a hedgehog by a spear after rushing into the formation. When the Frenchman knelt on the ground and blood flowed down the gap in the armor, Nashan had already jumped forward, and then used the hilt of the knife to hit the neck bone of a war horse that was blocking the ground and struggling.

The horse's limbs shook for a moment and disappeared, and Nashan had already rushed to Alexander a few steps.

"Boy, you are very brave, but that's not possible." Nashan said, pulling Sophia behind him, and then he pointed outside the car array. "My people are already harvesting spoils. If you don't work hard at this time, don't blame me for complaining then."

"But the French cavalry?" Alexander asked in confusion.

"Have you ever seen heavy cavalry that can last for so long?" Nashan jumped onto a very high grain truck and looked at the French cavalry who were still running around the chariot formation, but their speed had obviously slowed down a lot. "They can't hold on for long. If they were smart, they should retreat at this time. I will not let the Bohemians continue to chase, so if you only care about victory and not the spoils, the Bohemians would be happier."

Alexander knew that Nashan was right, the strength of the heavy cavalry was fearful, but with their terrible impact, it was difficult to sustain durability. Even the most terrifying French heavy cavalry today needed to stop and rest, and it was impossible to run so continuously.

A well-equipped but exhausted heavy cavalry is sometimes not even more useful as an ordinary light cavalry.

Moreover, Nashan's words did remind him that to maintain the strong strength of an army, only victory and glory cannot be completely touching. Rich spoils are the temptation that can make even a timid coward move.

"Agri, go forward!" Alexander shouted, "Prepare to seize your victory and spoils!"

Alexander's words made the Agris scream fiercely. The soldiers who were almost unable to hold their weapons at the beginning because of their nervousness seemed to have seen wealth waving to them at this moment, especially when they thought that the French were now rich because of robbing everywhere, and the eyes of many soldiers who had hoes and forks before were exposed, they could not help but show a greedy and passionate light.

The desire to seize the enemy's spoils and make oneself rich, which has been regarded as a shortcut to wealth with war for thousands of years, made the Agris full of courage in their hearts. When Alexander issued the order again, the Agris began to rush out of the gap toward the carriage.

"Keep the formation!" He stared at the team with his eyes. He knew clearly that the huge temptation of the spoils would certainly arouse the soldiers' strong desire to fight, but greed can also make people lose their minds.

Now these French people who fought are the best examples.

Of course, for these French people, they would never have thought that the grain transport team they were robbing would be such a difficult enemy to deal with, but before the battle, who would know what the outcome would be like?

"Beware, infantry!" A mercenary walking in front of the team warned loudly, and at the same time, the Agris had seen a group of French infantry rushing towards them.

"Design the formation!"

Alexander's roar sounded in the team at this moment, and Carlo, who always followed him, raised his horn and blew the horn of the battle for the first time.

"Agri!"

A shout sounded like an explosion from the team. When the horns were heard, the Agris couldn't help but squeeze together tightly as usual. Although the spears in their hands were messy, they pointed toward the front. At the same time, their nervous eyes were staring at the Frenchman rushing towards them.

"Hold the spear!"

With another shout, the dozen soldiers in front immediately stretched their spears forward. As the sharp spears kept shaking, they heard another familiar command, "The musketeer is in place!"

Sweat beads of the Agri infantry's foreheads were overflowing, and many people's hands holding the handle of the spear were sore because of the slippery joints.

The previous battle was covered by the car array, although it was cruel, the Agris still did not really feel the tension of facing the enemy. Now, looking at the French coming towards them, they began to feel real tension and fear.

"Stay!"

Sweat also flowed down Alexander's forehead, condensed on his chin and then fell.

Can the Agris truly face the enemy?

Can they persevere in the terrible and cruel strangle?

Alexander didn't know what was coming at this time, but he knew that one day he would face such a test.

Since you can't hide, you can only go head-on.

At least the French people in front of them should look much easier to deal with.

Alexander had this idea because when the enemy rushed to a very close place to them, he saw that the formation of the French had not only become scattered, but some even slowed down.

The French are timid!

The moment this thought flashed through his mind, Alexander involuntarily issued an order: "Shoot!"

The Frenchman who were moving forward saw a shaking figure on the opposite side suddenly flashed in the shadows, and almost at the same time, a dense roar sounded.

A scream immediately came from the darkness, but cheers also sounded. "It's a musket, rush up! rush up!"

Someone who was not hit started shouting, because the luck of avoiding being shot and the excitement of killing next made the voice tremble.

The slow firing rate and cumbersome loading of the musket make this weapon, which, although quite powerful, cannot be reused immediately after being fired, often becomes a burden.

Even the generals who are most willing to use new weapons are full of contradictions about such weapons that can only exert their power once.

For the army facing muskets, as long as they can survive the first round of shooting, the next step is to massacre the enemy.

Because in addition to bulky muskets, the weapons that musketeers can protect themselves are often only swords or short swords.

"Rare, kill them!"

The French, who were no longer scruples, rushed towards the enemy with cheers, and their desire for honor and wealth instantly overwhelmed the fear of being killed by the enemy. They seemed to have seen the musketeers driven away like flocks and the generous ransoms brought to them by the captive enemy.

The French rushed towards the enemy frantically. Some of them even threw away their heavy and clumsy shields, and used their hands to rush towards the enemy who seemed to be too clumsy to escape.

Then the people behind seemed to hear the screams of horror from the companion who was rushing in front.

But the scream immediately stopped abruptly with the terrifying "puff" sounds or turned into even more miserable screams of pain!

"Spear array!"

Finally someone shouted before being stabbed by the oncoming sharp spear. The terrifying scream caused chaos among the French people who were still charging forward behind.

The formation that had been completely disrupted in order to quickly approach the musketeers became a nightmare for the French at this moment.

The Agris's not strict or even more chaotic spear wall has become another even more terrifying nightmare for the French.

Sharp spears poked forward randomly, and some Agris even stumbled at the air without targeting and shouting, as if they were intimidating an enemy that they could not see at all.

The French tried to gather again, and they ran back and forth while shouting, trying to re-arrange themselves in a formation to resist the unexpected spear formation.

But the muskets mixed in the Agri spear formation once again suffered a terrible blow to them at this moment.

Instinctively crowded together because of panic and trying to rely on each other on the French, they became targets for those muskets that were close at hand.

They were so crowded that the sluttest musketeers among the Agris could hit the target only if they were aiming in the direction.

Another uneven smoke screen floated between the two sides with the roar. Someone among the French screamed and fell backwards. When the Agris were also stabbed by the enemy's spear, the French fell to the ground at a much faster speed than the enemy.

But the French soldiers were undoubtedly the best of this era. Even though this army was just a defensive team, they still gradually gathered under the threat of the enemy's terrible blow, and then they began to fight back against the enemy with the double threat of spear and musket.

The spear passed through the spear, and the sword quickly thrust. The French used their courage to prove to the enemy that they were still terrible opponents that could not be defeated even when facing unexpected blows.

A scream came from not far from Alexander. An Agri soldier's stomach was directly penetrated, and several torn internal organs hung on the tip of the spear that penetrated from his back. The soldier kept screaming, holding the spear under his lower abdomen tightly with his hands. He didn't fall back until the other party was shot and screamed and fell to the ground. The spear poked on his stomach kept twisting violently in the air as he continued to move on the ground.

Another spearman was stabbed down. Listening to the man's painful shouts before his death, a terrified scream rang out among the Agris.

Although it was only a momentary confrontation, and obviously relied on the power of the muskets in the formation to make the enemy pay a greater price, some of the Agris could not withstand this tragic battle.

Some people began to throw down their weapons in fear and turned around and ran away, and this behavior immediately caused even greater chaos.

"Agri, keep it steady!" Alexander yelled vigorously. He raised his spear and squeezed forward without hesitation. At the same time, he shouted at the people around him, "Escape can only die faster, stabilize the formation!"

The originally shaking spear formation was revived with Alexander's roar. The spearmen were struggling with fear in their hearts while poking forward desperately.

At this moment, a whistle suddenly came from behind the French, and the unique tone made the Agri cheer.

Like the strong wind passing by on the plains, the Bohemian cavalry that was storming the French infantry penetrated the last wave of French people who had been dispersed by them, and finally arrived at this moment.

Seeing the Bohemian cavalry carrying a terrifying blade passing by the opposite Frenchman like a whirlwind, and completely disrupting the French formation in one go, Alexander slowly lowered the spear in his hand.

He turned his head and looked at the other side of the car array that was still illuminated by everyone. Looking at the shadows that were getting farther and farther away, Alexander let out a long sigh.

The shadows were French cavalry. In the unfavorable situation where the Bohemians were constantly chasing but were unable to turn around to face them, they finally chose to withdraw from the battlefield.

On October 4, 1496, Alexander ushered in his first victory in the Bruini Valley.
Chapter completed!