Smoke and dust rose from all sides of the battlefield, and shells flew in the direction of the enemy's positions with the occasional whistling overhead.

The artillery officer's face was flushed at this time, and he had pushed almost all the artillery to the front of the position.

In the gaps between the phalanxes, the Castilian artillery was lined up in an incoherent line, but much denser than the artillery of any army.

Some of the artillery had even been pushed flat to a short distance from the range of the Sicilian muskets, and then the artillery began to bombard the Sicilian army.

It's just that the depth of the Sicilian army's line formation is much thinner than that of the phalanx, which makes the damage caused by shells relatively small even if they fall in the enemy's formation.

"Come on, let me see what you're up to!"

The artillery officer shouted to the Sicilian in the distance, jumped into a baggage cart and looked at the opposite side, and then gave the order to fire a volley at the enemy in the center.

The soldiers in the front queue were hit by oncoming shells, and the bloodshot live ammunition kicked off a slope of grass and continued to roll forward, and then plunged into the queue behind, splashing a blur of flesh.

At the same time, two phalanxes of several hundred men began to squeeze towards the somewhat wavering Sicilian front.

The sharp spears formed the most formidable weapon of the mobile fortress, and the heavy metal branches and crescent-shaped axes on the axe shook with cold light.

The weight of the spear itself and the heavy blow it brought by swinging, even if it did not directly stab the enemy, the force when it fell down was enough to deal a fatal blow to the enemy.

At the same time, the musketeers who followed closely behind the shields also fired non-stop.

From time to time, the Sicilian front was shot and fell, and the Castilian phalanx had crossed the halfway line between the two sides.

As the drums of war grew quicker, the officers in the phalanx shouted loudly.

"Spear Hold~"

The officers' orders came and went.

With the order, the sharp jungle-like spears that had been erected one by one stretched forward.

"Prepare ~Push the spear~"

There was another shout, accompanied by the shouts of the soldiers of the Castilian phalanx.

"My lord, it looks like we're going to win."

The Castilian officers, who were commanding the heights of the camp, breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that victory would be theirs as long as they brought their phalanx closer to the enemy.

Gonzalo watched the movement on the battlefield quietly, and did not appear relaxed because he seemed to have the upper hand.

From the beginning he had a vague sense of strangeness that the Sicilian army was behaving somewhat differently than he had imagined.

Although he was surprised that he was able to maintain his formation despite the shelling, the Sicilian army had not made any remarkable moves since the start of the war.

Gonzalo had long since passed the age of a hot-blooded youth blinded by chivalry, and all he hoped was to defeat his enemies.

So, of course, he didn't want to see the Sicilians really have any unusual means of turning defeat into victory.

But the way it looks now makes him wonder.

He had a vague feeling that things weren't going to go so well.

The phalanx continued to move forward.

The Castilian soldiers at the front could clearly see the Sicilian soldiers at the front raising their muskets.

And at this time, even Gonzalo, who was far behind, could see the actions of the Sicilians.

His hand tapping the side of his leg paused for a moment before continuing to tat his thigh.

Only this time he didn't hear the slight sound of his palms falling on his leg armor.

Gunfire rang out simultaneously from the entire Sicilian front.

Almost instantly, the Sicilians were completely surrounded by the smoke of gunfire all day long.

And the smoke spewed straight towards the Castilian phalanx.

The pungent smell spread throughout the battlefield in the wind, because the firing was almost simultaneously, and the fierce sound instantly overshadowed all the sounds on the battlefield.

Gonzalo's hand stopped, and he couldn't help but take a step forward, but then he realized that it was a bit of a gaffe and stopped.

He could feel as if the entire moving battlefield had a moment of stillness, and his own troops, whether they were facing fire or not, involuntarily stopped.

Gonzalo's lips tensed slightly, and he thought of the fierce counterattack that the Sicilians might make, and even considered that maybe one or two phalanxes would be devastated.

But when it all really happened, he was still a little surprised by the terrible damage caused by the enemy's fierce fire beyond his imagination.

As the smoke cleared, corpses could be seen in front of the Castilian phalanx.

The two phalanxes at the front even suffered heavy losses due to the concentrated fire that outnumbered them.

The two rows of soldiers in front of the phalanx were almost all down, so that the people behind could not move because the corpses of their companions were lying on the ground, and could not move in place.

But the nightmare has apparently only just begun.

The Castilian phalanx began to be met with musketeers who responded in return, but the enemy fired another unexpected salvo.

"So fast?"

Gonzalo's face finally showed a look of surprise.

From the power shown by the first salvo, Gonzalo had quickly judged that the enemy's shallow horizontal column, which was different from the heavy formation, should have been fired without reservation.

And only in this way can you exert so much power at one time.

But such a brief break between the two shots by the Sicilian surprised him.

This means that the enemy can inflict heavy casualties on their own side with this salvo more often.

Gonzalo's officers were apparently aware of this unusual situation, and some of them immediately gave orders to the front phalanx to approach the enemy as quickly as possible, while others urged the artillery to intensify the shelling, inflicting fatal casualties on the Sicilians.

Gonzalo didn't say a word, just stared at the battlefield in front of him.

Looking at the Sicilian's completely unreasonable formation, his mind quickly grasped the enemy's intentions.

There is no doubt that in this age of the general emphasis on the depth and depth of formations, even Gonzalo was incomprehensible to the Sicilians' incomparably thin linear formations.

After all, once approaching, as long as the formation is broken, what awaits the Sicilians is only to be slaughtered after being divided and surrounded.

Even if some unknown means can make the musketeer's rate of fire much higher than that of his opponent, such a close distance is still not enough to withstand the incoming charge.

"Order the cavalry to sortie."

Gonzalo spoke suddenly.

Sensing the suspicious glances of the herald beside him, Gonzalo said in a deep voice, "Their ranks are too shallow in depth, and they will be confused as long as they use cavalry to charge, this is a good opportunity." ”

"Yes, sir."

The herald immediately turned around and prepared to leave, when as soon as he turned around, a dense and violent explosion suddenly sounded on the battlefield.

The explosion was accompanied by an exclamation from the people behind him.

The herald couldn't help but look back, and when he saw the smoke and dust rising everywhere on the artillery position and the shattered fragments that had been blown apart, the herald couldn't help but stop in shock.

"Go and give orders!"

Gonzalo's voice became a little impatient for the first time, and he stared at the artillery on his position, then suddenly looked up at the rear of the enemy.

The doubts that have always haunted my heart have been answered at this moment.

Gonzalo's Sicilian artillery, which had always been strange and did not pose a threat to the Castilian army, answered the question in his heart at this moment with heavy fire.

"That's ......"

Gonzalo whispered in his mouth.

Only then did he learn that the target of the Sicilian artillery was not his phalanx, but his artillery position from the beginning.

Even the Sicilian strikes against the Holy Army of Caretses were aimed at attracting his artillery to retaliate.

It's just that the price to pay for doing so is high.

The Sicilian artillery, which had left the infantry at the risk of being shelled by the enemy, and still did not counterattack, was waiting for a great opportunity.

And his artillery officer fell for this precisely because of the success of shooting at the enemy infantry.

The artillery that had been constantly pushed to the front had become a target for the enemy infantry at the same time, and at the sight of the artillery position being blown up in smoke and dust, as if the whole land was about to be lifted, Gonzalo couldn't help but let out a dull sigh.

"Cambrai."

Gonzalo stared at the artillery positions that were being ravaged by enemy artillery, and each loud bang was a sign that the poor guns on the artillery positions were being blown into piles of splinters.

Seeing the heavy barrel of a cannon twisted and slumped into a nearby pit after being hit, Gonzalo turned his head and raised his hand to one of the officers beside him.

"Go get ready."

"Yes, my lord."

The officer answered and beckoned two of his attendants to climb up on their horses.

The horses took a few steps in place, and then, at the urging of the knights, they ran towards the phalanxes that had been waiting on the hillside.

It was Gonzalo's model army.

"It's a little too early."

Gonzalo looked at the back of his departing subordinate and muttered to himself, a slight frustration in his tone, but then threw the thought aside.

Although he did not write as much as Alexander wrote the Book of Generals, Gonzalo knew better than many how important it was to be decisive when faced with unexpected setbacks on the battlefield.

The Model Army was Gonzalo's most important bargaining chip, and it can be said that this army was both the key to his victory on the battlefield and the last resort he relied on to protect himself.

But when he realized that the situation was not right, Gonzalo immediately and decisively made the decision to dispatch the model army.

The gunfire in front of him was incessant, which made Uomoto, who had been waiting in the queue for a long time, a little anxious.

Of course, he was not in a hurry to rush to die, but the unsettling emotion of not being able to see what was happening ahead was uncomfortable.

Uomoto, who had no idea that it was the first time he had checked his weapon, finally heard the familiar beat of the drum.

Uomoto's spirits immediately lifted.

Like him, his companions, who were also a little impatient because they had waited too long, seemed to be relieved at this time.

Unlike the King of Castile Army, the Model Army has a wider front.

The first row, composed entirely of spearmen, was unusually close to each other, while at each end of the phalanx there was a smaller phalanx to protect the main formation.

Uomoto was in one of the small phalanxes.

His task was to inflict casualties on the enemy with muskets at as long distances as possible, and then, when engaged in close contact with the enemy, the musketeers quickly retreated to the rear of the phalanx, and continued to engage the enemy with close and distant firepower.

Uomoto hurried with his companions to the front of the left side of the phalanx, from which he could see the front and left flank of the entire phalanx.

"San Boracondo bless," a musketeer hurriedly kissed the statue of the saint hanging on his chest, and then he kindly waved it at Uomoto and shouted "May San Boracondo bless!" ”

"May San Bora Condo bless."

Uomoto answered, wiping his sweaty hands against his pants and moving the horn jar hanging at his side in front of him.

Uomoto's mouth was a little bitter, his teeth were already black from years of tearing the gunpowder bag, and even the gums were a little ulcerated, but even then he still didn't like the disgusting feeling of gunpowder in his mouth.

The officers shouted loudly, and cavalry ran back and forth between the phalanxes, and the huge phalanx formation gradually unfolded on the battlefield with the order.

Uomoto stuffed the projectile into the barrel of the gun, rammed it with a strip, and then skillfully poured the gunpowder from the horn jar into the gun groove, then ripped the bag with his mouth, and poured another amount of gunpowder into the pool that needed to be ignited.

The whole process is skilful and fast.

"Be careful, don't pour too much!"

In the distance, the team officer kept reminding him that every time he fought, someone would explode because he couldn't grasp the amount of medicine.

But Uomoto don't need to worry about that, he is the most experienced veteran, and he is also very clever in marking his gun so that there will be no accidents due to negligence.

The flags began to move, and the entire phalanx marched with it.

Uomoto took a deep breath and touched his chest in the same way as his companion, but he didn't wear any holy relics except for a half-length armor.

"San Bora Condo bless."

Uomoto muttered to himself in a muffled voice, then took another deep breath and took the musket.

"Uomoto, haven't you picked up an amulet from the priest?" The companion next to him asked as he walked.

"No, I haven't received it since the last time that San Boracondo statue blocked a piece of shrapnel for me," Uomoto shook his head, "That's probably what God meant, God has given me an extra life, and everything depends on God's arrangement." ”

"Then pray more, God will keep ......"

"Bang Bang Bang~"

A dense burst of gunfire suddenly came, and the scream of the projectile piercing the air was as terrible as the devil's roar in his ears.

Uomoto felt a sudden heat in his ears, and a wet stream of heat trickled down his neck.

He instinctively raised his hand to caress it, and immediately a piercing pain made his voice sound, and at the same time he felt that he suddenly could not hear the words of his companion next to him, nor could he hear the other voices on one side.

He turned his head a little dazed, and saw the captain in the distance yelling loudly at the somewhat chaotic queue.

But Uomoto couldn't hear what he was shouting, and he saw his companion who hadn't had time to finish speaking.

But at this time, the companion was crawling diagonally on the ground, and it didn't look like he was still alive.

Uomoto turned his head silently and followed the team onwards.

At this time, he saw from a distance a rather eye-catching troop on the opposite side.

Sicilian royal grenadiers, entered the battlefield.