As you travel east along Brittany's coastline, the bridges are covered in snow, and the occasional skull stuck in the tip of a spear is frozen in frost, as if to remind passers-by that a war has just passed.

Ulf, son of Topp, lord of Lincolnshire, first spotted the Bretons lining up in front of a town, with fewer than a thousand enemies and all the knights on horseback. The town was pitifully small, unprotected by no walls, and the Bretons had built no fortifications, only two thin black fronts sadly entrenched there.

"Your Majesty, there is an enemy ahead!" A Peterborethine returned from the front with news of Lord Ulf. Hughed Barn glanced at Edgar, the fur-clad king's face flushed, and one hand gripped the hilt of the sword from time to time to make sure it wasn't frozen in its sheath.

"Prepare to engage the enemy." Edgar gave the order, and the English began to line up, with the army of the Earl of Moka on the left flank, the armies of Lincoln and East Anglia in the center, the main force of Wessex on the right flank, and the Seins of Kent and London accompanied the king with the royal guard, ready to support the front line at any time. As the English lined up, Edgar suddenly saw a snowflake fall on the wind vane, and the tears of winter shrouded the four fields in a moment.

The wind and snow grew heavier, and the silver dust on the ground was blown up by the north wind from time to time, and the snowdrops flying in the sky blurred the vision of the English. As the English army advanced, the opposing lines began to crumble one by one, and the thin formations of the Bretons became more and more thin, and their knights left the battlefield first and began to retreat along the streets of the town.

"They ran away!" Count Moka shouted loudly, and the snowflakes fell on his helmet carved with runes, and the next moment they melted into droplets of water and dripped down his nose, and Count Mercia did not care to wipe it, and immediately began to lead his guards to mount and pursue, so that the entire left flank of Mercia began to speed forward.

The English array was in a huge inclined plane, with the left flank as the front and moving forward at high speed, and they stepped over the frozen ground, maintaining the integrity of the front and advancing continuously, and the enemy, as if frightened by this terrible sight, completely abandoned the front and disappeared from the eyes of the English.

The king was in the array in the back row at this time, and he couldn't see what was happening in front of him, only hearing the roar of men and horses in the wind and snow, and Godwin, the king's flag bearer, shouted loudly: "Your Majesty, the wind here is too strong. ”

"Why can't I hear the battle ahead, what the hell is going on!" The king's voice was swallowed up by the gale, and in fact no one knew what was happening in front of him, and when Hugh saw this, he took the initiative to lead his knights out of the ranks, and the Northumbrian lord shouted to the king as he raised his reins: "I'll go and see." ”

Edgar was still a little uneasy to see that the front line of the army had entered the town, so he gathered the rest of the army and marched forward in a battle array, and the king's knights lined up in echelons to form a sharp spearhead, ready to assault in the front row of this line.

After passing through the ruined town, a barren hill stood in front of me, and across the high slope, some shouts of slaughter could be faintly heard, the rhythmic clanging and clanging sounds seemed to be spears and axes striking shield hubs, and swords tearing at iron rings. Edgar urged "Alfred" to leap onto the mound, and finally saw the battle between the two sides in a hazel of recklessness.

The Breton army had formed a pocket perpendicular to the original line, and the English, who were pursuing in columns, turned sideways along the road and crashed headlong into the front of the opposing side, and were being slaughtered, and Ulf's men tried to aid the Mercians in front, but the narrow road made it difficult for them to advance.

Edgar recognized the situation before him and immediately returned to the position of the flag, and he told Hughed, who had just returned, to immediately order the front army to retreat, and on the other hand, to gather the Welsh border longbowmen to line up at the top of the hill.

Realizing what was happening, the Earl of Moca, whose uniforms had been stained with blood, finally gave the order to retreat, and the Lincolnshire militia behind them also began to retreat under the orders of Hughed, leaving behind hundreds of corpses and running backwards to the cries of the Brittany soldiers.

Alain Lufus had a resolute expression, and only glanced at his brother beside him, and he commanded his detachment to mount and chase after him. The English turned their backs to the Breton knights, and along the way they were harvested like fallen leaves by the scythe of death, and in this crushing defeat, the lord of Ulf, who had personally broken off the Peterborough militia, was pierced through the lobes of his lungs by two spears through his iron cloak, and his whole body was pinned to the ground.

The Breton knights were still driving away the lamb-like Englishmen when suddenly a thick black fog appeared in the air, and countless arrows shot from the flying snow hit them in the back. The swift wind caused dozens of Breton knights to roll on their backs, and their lord Geoffrey fell from his saddle, his body gradually covered with frost and snow like a white blanket.

The defeated army of the English finally regrouped in the vicinity of the town, losing nearly a thousand warriors and leaving countless armor behind them. Edgar came to them and shouted like thunder, "Return to your lords, Englishmen, and regroup!" The battle is not over yet, do you want to accept the shame of defeat? ”

The soldiers calmed down a little at the sight of the king's dragon banner, and Edgar saw that they had regained a little of their morale, and that the Count of Moca was slowly retreating in the middle of the sparse rout, and ordered the longbowmen and knights to advance with them until they approached the line of the Brittany.

Alain Lufus, who saw his brother killed by arrows, took off his helmet and was stunned, but heard the horn sound again, and a large group of elite horsemen appeared on the opposite side. After seeing the dragon flag wind vane, the commander gritted his teeth and gave the order to retreat, his red hair was kissed by the north wind, but the tingling sensation in his head made him more sober. Seeing the Bretons retreating steadily from between the snow and ice with cavalry, Edgar was reluctant to take any more risks, and after taking the battlefield, he stopped approaching.

Arriving at the body of Lord Ulf, King Edgar unloaded his iron helmet, a relative of the late Abbot of Peterborough, Bland, and one of the most powerful lords in the eastern part of the kingdom, whose estates stretched as far east of York as many as Hughard Barne. His Lincolnshire militia and Earl Moca's Mercia militia suffered the heaviest losses, and Edgar had to temporarily regroup them together and send several Seins to bring Ulf's body back to the ship for delivery to Hereward.

After resting for a day, the English hastily buried their fallen comrades, and continued their march without mourning. The Bretons had evacuated Rumbarre and fled to Normandy by sea, so Edgar arrived at the castle of Dore, which had been besieged by the Normans, directly through the territory of Pontilville.