Another group of infantry appeared at the edge of the woods, and Carlo took a breath, and he looked back a little worriedly.

Since Alexander sent reinforcements, nearly 800 people have gathered on the south side of Livorno, the most notable of which is the hunting guards led by Alexander himself.

The Montina army knew that the huntsmen never left the count's side, and now seeing the huntsmen appear, it obviously meant that the count himself had reached the south side of the battle line.

But this was not a cause for Carlo's unease, as he suddenly noticed that not only were the number of enemies on his face increasing, but that with the appearance of the previous heavy infantry, it was clear that more and more enemies were gathering in their direction.

Carlo looked back again, his team had seized the opportunity to retreat not far from the chest wall he had previously built, and it was because of this that he was able to hold on to the formation of a team that was significantly smaller than the opposition.

But Carlo knew that this was not the way to go, and if he continued like this, his people would collapse sooner or later.

The heavy infantry, who had been repulsed by the hunters who had suddenly appeared later, were resting at the edge of the woods not far from Caro's team, and as new teams joined in, the heavy infantry could be seen in the distance preparing to attack again.

Carlo looked behind him with some concern, he wanted to find the Count's shadow, but he couldn't see where Alexander was, except for the walking hunters behind the breastwork.

The sound of noisy and dull footsteps came from a distance, and Carlo immediately looked back ahead, and with the thin cloud of smoke, clumps of swaying figures rushed towards them, and the cold light of the weapon shining through the smoke and dust, exuding a suffocating murderous aura.

"Here we go again." Carlo muttered under his breath, he raised his right hand to feel a little heavy, and although he knew that it was caused by the long swing of the sword, he still tried to move himself.

"Array, array, you idiots!"

Carlo yelled with great effort, but his voice sounded muffled because of the jaw injury.

It had been a long time since he had insulted his men, veterans who had come out of the mountains with him, who knew better than the rest of Alexander's army, but who were now a little shaken by exhaustion.

An Agri musketeer poked the halberd on the ground as a musket mount, and then laboriously rested his large heavy musket on the halberd branches and stared at the opposite side.

"Captain, how much land will the family get if we die?" The musketeer panted and asked Carlo not far away.

"I don't know."

Carlo said vaguely, he wiped his lips, and felt a burning pain, he knew that he should be broken, even if the jaw bone connected to the gums was not broken, the injury on his face would definitely leave an ugly scar.

But that's not much more, and Carlo thinks this is probably his last fight.

"At least enough to feed the family," Carlo said after a moment's thought, thinking that he shouldn't disappoint his companions, "at least we know that the lord is not a stingy man. ”

"That'll do." The musketeer exhaled, turning his gun on the Papal Army, which had already passed through the corpses left behind by the previous confrontation, "I think I can continue to fight these damned Papal Army!" ”

The terrible spear rushed into front of him again, and the musketeer pulled the bolt before he could see this last scene.

"Boom!"

A very heavy gunshot came from a distance, and even from a distance, Oflaiyi could still feel the tragic killing force infiltrated by the fierce gunfire.

He jumped onto the breastwork, looking across the open field as Machiavelli had done before, and walked up and down with some annoyance when he saw that the flags were moving slowly, but not completely out of place.

"Aren't you going to help the Count?" Machiavelli looked up at the impatient Ofleiu under the wall, "By this time the Papal army must have almost thrown half of its forces to the south. ”

"It's not time yet," Ofleiil glared back at Machiavelli a little annoyed, and when he saw the Florentine's indifferent shrug, he resisted the urge to have this nasty guy hoisted up, and asked, "When do you think the Papal Army will mobilize the other half of the army?" ”

"How do I know this," Machiavelli said innocently, spreading his hands, "maybe their general was cautious, or he was a man with no ambition, this battle was originally an accident, maybe he didn't want to lose his people in vain, after all, Caesar is in your hands, even if they win, they won't gain anything, so maybe they just want to force the count to ask for a truce, so that they can get enough compensation, after all, they are already doomed to get any more benefits from the pope." ”

"You've deduced so well, thank you so much!" Ofleiil snorted in annoyance, though he knew that he should not take his temper out on Machiavelli, and that the Florentine was right, which was why Ofleiil found it unbearable.

After all, this was not what he wanted to see.

One of the hunters came running suddenly, and he ran to Ofleiil out of breath, and shouted loudly: "My lord told you to bring Caesar to the position, so that the papal army could see him." ”

"What?" Ofleiil was a little puzzled, but he left without hesitation to carry out the order, and when he saw several soldiers coming from a distance carrying Caesar lying on the bed board under Cadron's incessant scolding, Ofleiil looked at Machiavelli as if he had figured something out.

"Don't look at me, I can guess what's going on, but it really seems like a bit too much."

The Florentine man shook his head as he looked at Caesar coming from afar, he felt that the count's approach was really unscrupulous, after all, few nobles would do this.

Caesar was helped onto his horse, and after he tried to struggle but had to give in because of the pain in his chest, he was strapped to his horse by several Montina soldiers and forced to drive south along the breastwork.

"The people of the Papal Army will see it, and they will recognize Caesar." Oflair muttered to himself, he didn't really know who he was talking about, and there was a hint of excitement on his face as he looked across from Machiavelli, who looked solemnly beside him.

The Papal army had apparently noticed Caesar's whereabouts, and their cavalry, which had been patrolling the open field on their own side, had first crossed the center line of both sides, and when they realized that it was impossible to rush over to save Caesar, some of them turned around, apparently returning to report the news, while others involuntarily moved south in parallel with the Montina man in the open field.

"They're all going to the south wing."

Machiavelli's voice trembled slightly, and he looked at Ofleil, who happened to be looking at him too, and both of them saw in each other's eyes a look of excitement and worry.

"Maybe we can go on the offensive sooner."

Ofleiyi gasped for breath and tried to make his somewhat congested chest feel more comfortable, but it was obviously useless, and he felt more difficult to breathe because of the tension.

"If we attack too soon, the Papal army will find out that we are actually trying to draw them south and attack their flank," Machiavelli looked at Ofleiuil, "what are you going to do, follow the Count's orders or go to the rescue of the Count?" ”

Ofreil pressed his hands against his breastwork, a decision that had been too difficult for him, and he had never had a time since he had officially become Alexander's marching captain to make a decision on his own.

Each time he only had to convey and give orders as the count intended, and when it was time for him to make his own decisions, Ofreil realized how difficult it was.

What would Piaget do if it was?

The thought only flashed through Oflaiuil's mind and he tossed it aside.

He knew that since he wasn't Alexander, even knowing what decision Alexander would make would not help him make up his mind.

What to do?!

The sound of the fighting from the south seemed to be quieter, but at this moment Ofleiil saw that the flags of the detachments of the Papal Army across the open field, which they had been paying attention to, suddenly moved!

"They're moving!"

Machiavelli, who had also noticed the strangeness, whispered excitedly, and the Florentine's breathing became also rapid, although only as a staff officer, Machiavelli seemed to really understand how difficult it was for the generals on the battlefield to make a decision.

He noticed that Ofleiy's hand was slightly raised, and the trumpeter, who had been standing by and waiting, immediately raised his trombone, his lips slightly bulging, ready to blow the horn at any moment.

Machiavelli's hands clenched tightly, the corners of his mouth twitching, not knowing whether he was nervous for Ofreil or for himself.

A muffled snort came, and Oflaiyi's hand slowly lowered it slowly but as if it were unusually heavy.

In the end, Oflaiyi did not give the order to attack.

All the detachments of the Papal Army were moving, and even though they knew that there were still Montina's troops on the other side of the open field, the battle that was unfolding was like an invisible magnet that drew them towards the south.

First the first team, then the second team, then the third team.

When the news came that Caesar had been escorted to the position by the Montinas, and seemed to be heading that way, even the Papal army, which was still stubbornly watching the opposite side, finally moved.

If they could save Caesar, they would be forgiven for losing their boss, and if they might even have a chance to regain the Pope's reward for defeating Montina's army, after all, Alexander VI was still generous to them.

This thought made the mercenary officers of the Papal Army come to life, and some even became a little busy because they were worried that the other companions might save Caesar first.

It was in this slight impatience that the Papal Army began to move, and once they approached the southern flank, they were like a school of fish caught in a whirlpool.

Carlo had already retreated behind the breastwork with the people, and he was in a trance as he looked at the corpses on the open ground in front of him.

Those were his fellow countrymen who had come out of the Agri, and the bravest soldiers under Alexander, who, despite the heavy casualties, the stubborn Agri, withstood many more enemies than they were, much to the surprise and disbelief of even the Papal army on the other side.

The mercenaries couldn't understand how these southern mountain people could be so stubborn, they were as incomprehensible as the Swiss madmen from the Alps.

The stubbornness of the fellow mountain people allowed these Agri madmen to retreat only a little after paying heavy casualties, instead of fleeing for their lives, and they had just retreated behind the breastwork, and they immediately regrouped again, and with the help of their companions, these Montina troops immediately relied on the breastwork and a few trenches, and launched a head-on counterattack against the Papal army that tried to take advantage of the opportunity.

Carlo had a crossbow in his hand, he hadn't used it for a while, and the unfamiliar feeling made him quickly master the crossbow arrows, and after standing firm and aiming at the target, Carlo didn't even need to guess to know that the guy on the other side couldn't escape.

It was at this time that Caesar was escorted to Alexander's side, and he was about to speak, when he saw a mercenary in front of him who seemed to let out a scream and fell to the ground.

Caesar looked at the shadow for a moment, then sighed a little regretfully.

"What, you know that guy?" Alexander also saw the mercenary who had been shot by Caro, and from the man's clothing, it was clear that he was supposed to be an officer.

"I know his wife, a very coquettish woman." Caesar dismounted carefully with the help of Caderon, and then leaned on the horse behind him with the pain in his chest, looking at Alexander, "Tell me what you want to do, or do you think this will threaten my army?" With that, Caesar looked out of the breastwork, and when he saw another group of soldiers rushing towards the breastwork, he smiled, "Whether this is a conspiracy played by Geoffrey or not, I must say that these troops have not disappointed me, if you do not want to continue such losses, order your men to cease the war immediately, and don't forget that I have more troops than yours." ”

"That's exactly what I wanted to say," Alexander said, glancing toward the north flank of Livorno, "and my men did not disappoint me. ”

Ignoring Caesar, Alexander looked at the enemy who had already rushed to the breastwork, took the musket from one of the hunters, and let out a cry of "Follow me!" With a shout, Alexander went into battle with his chasseurs.

Spears are stabbing, halberds are swinging, and broadswords with handles are suddenly stabbing out from behind shields.

The two sides slashed at each other across the breastwork, and when they saw Alexander's figure suddenly appear among them, the Agri roared in excitement, and the addition of the hunters instantly stabilized the line that was about to collapse.

Alexander swung his sword a few times, but none of them cut down the enemy, and whenever he tried to charge at an enemy, Paolo Busako and a few of the hunters who followed him would first fire a round with muskets, and then swing his saber at the fish that slipped through the net under the heavy fire.

The fortifications that the Montina army had previously dug for nothing played a role at this moment.

The soldiers hid behind the trenches and breastwork, and stubbornly resisted the enemy by virtue of these fortifications, which were not strong but played an important role at this time.

When he saw Alexander rushing up with his huntsmen, Carlo began to curse furiously at his soldiers.

He drove away almost all the soldiers standing behind him with kicks and kicks, and even those old Agri soldiers were mercilessly scolded by him as "waste", "cowards", and "maggots with soft bones".

"Rush up, see that there are more people than us without them, but they can't get by, we have 800 people, only half less than them, rush up!"

Carlo's shouts drew attention from the position, and as he shouted "We are only half as small as them", the Agri let out a cry of response that bordered on mockery, which also affected the other soldiers who were frightened by the number of the Papal army.

"We're only half as little as them! Half less! ”

Louder and louder roars rang out one after another in front of the breastwork, and in the midst of this shout, the Montina actually launched a counterattack!

Caesar looked at the scene in front of him in amazement, he didn't understand how this could happen, the Montina actually took the initiative to attack when they were significantly outnumbered by their opponents.

Not only did the Montina soldiers rush back to the breastwork to confront the enemy on the other side, but some of them were too impulsive to try to climb over the wall to meet the Papal army.

Although doing so immediately paid a terrible price for their impulsiveness, the line that had narrowly wavered for a time stabilized.

Caesar looked at him suspiciously, he didn't understand what Alexander was going to do, knowing that this would not allow him to win.

Thinking of this, Caesar suddenly turned his head, and his eyes were fixed on the north side of the city of Livorno.

At the same time, Alexander looked to the north while the enemy was being slightly pushed back.

The Papal Army unexpectedly launched an attack much faster than before, and this time looking at the neat formation and dense spear forest on the opposite side from a distance, Carlo's heart couldn't help but sink.

He knew that this was supposed to be a new detachment, and he couldn't help but get nervous as he looked at the two other flags that were vaguely familiar and followed closely behind.

All the detachments of the Pope's army have finally been dispatched!

Caesar also saw those flags in the back, and he knew better than Caesar what they meant when they appeared on the south wing.

Hope rose in his heart, even though he had vaguely guessed Alexander's purpose, but he knew that as long as he crushed Carlo before Alexander's attack on the northern flank worked, it would mean that victory would still be his.

Seeing Alexander, who was retreating behind the line under the protection of several hunters, Caesar immediately strode over, ignoring the obstruction of the soldiers watching him.

"Surrender Gombray, you have no chance," Caesar said loudly, "your men will not have time to save you, and don't forget that all my army has already wanted you to surround you, and I have 3,000 men!" ”

"And I'm only 1,000 less than you." Alexander replied lightly.

At this moment, they all heard the rumbling footsteps of the Papal army as they attacked.

A Papal cavalryman rushed forward impatiently, and he saw what appeared to be a lone Montina infantryman.

The Montina soldier looked bulging with a lot of stuff.

According to the habits of mercenaries, many people prefer to bring all their belongings with them, because it is not safe to store them with others or hide them somewhere, and mercenaries have a day when there is no tomorrow and make them more willing to carry their belongings with them, so that they can enjoy them anytime and anywhere.

The Montina man clearly had a lot of good stuff on him.

The cavalryman was worried that he was going to make a small fortune, so he immediately urged the horse to chase after him.

A simple spear in his hand sent a whistling in the air, and the cavalryman believed that this alone would be enough to scare the unlucky man in front of him and make him obediently hand over his property.

Getting closer, just as the cavalry was about to throw his spear at the Montina soldier, he noticed that the Montina man, who had just run up the ridge, had stopped.

Are you frightened?

The cavalryman hesitated for a moment to retract his spear-throwing hand, and at that moment he heard a muffled rumble from behind the ridge.

Experience told him that a large contingent of cavalry was rushing from behind the ridge, and then the cavalry saw a whirlwind appear at the top of the ridge and sweep towards him.

Before the cavalry could see the other side clearly, with a muffled sound, a head-on shot pierced the left eye, and the cavalry immediately fell from his horse.

The horses' hooves slammed on the ground and kicked up smoke and dust, running past the bloodied cavalryman, and then more infantry.

Their target is the right flank exposed by the Papal Army because it keeps moving south!

Ofreil took another deep breath, and the moment he decided to wait for his moment, he felt as if he had understood something, but this fleeting flash of inspiration made it difficult for him to grasp.

So even when the order was finally given to attack the Papal army, he still felt apprehensive and did not know what the consequences of his decision would be.

The fierce fighting in the distance made Ofleiil extremely anxious, he knew that he would definitely encounter the Papal army that was still watching his direction, but as the Count judged when he decided to use himself and Caesar as bait, the Papal army would be unconsciously drawn to the vortex.

Then, the enemies he faces will unwittingly expose their weaknesses by being led to the southern flank.

Offrey trusted the Count's judgment, and it was because of this that he finally made up his mind to wait for the right moment when it was time to make a decision.

The speed of the Bohemian hussars was terrifying, and legend has it that when they wielded their sabers and cut off their heads, the faces of their enemies were still smiling.

Ofleiil didn't know if these legends were true, but when he saw the Bohemian cavalry rushing at the front, sweeping like a crazy whirlwind over the flanks of a group of Papal infantry who had no time to react at a staggering speed, Ofleiil, who had been suppressed, finally let out an uncontrollable cry!

On the afternoon of 26 October, when it was dark, after an afternoon of fierce fighting, the northern flank of Montina's army launched an attack on the right flank of the Papal army.

"We have always thought that noble status and despicable deeds cannot coexist with each other, but today I have seen a completely different result, a nobleman who in order to achieve his end does not hesitate to use means that are not worthy of the majority, and finally rely on this means to achieve his end, which makes me wonder between noble and despicable. To be a noble lion or a cunning fox, it's a choice. ”

This was stated on October 27, 1497, after the battle between Machiavelli and Livorno.