A pale mist rose above the remnants of the campfires, and the sound of loud commands rang out from among the ranks of England, and in the face of the long lines of cavalry, the iron groves of spears and shields quickly took shape under different insignia.

The Franks could no longer see the figures on the other side, only the black glacier fell asleep at the end of the snow, and the French king guessed that his reinforcements might not dare to wade into the river at this time, and only when he knocked on the turtle shell of the British army, those cowards could not wait to cross the river to search for "glory".

The nobles and Normans of the kingdom answered the call, and swaggering decorative spears and red, green, blue, and white banners gathered around the golden flames of Saint-Denis (Oriflamme), and the spears and shields scattered all over the field were like countless jewels set in the snow, adding three points of color to the white battlefield.

Philip rode on the back of a white gelding, with slender limbs, broad shoulders, and a slightly upturned nose that set off a solemn and handsome appearance.

By this time Hugg's knights had rushed out, the Normans had begun to attack the left flank of the English, and Philip was like a Roman commander, quietly watching the battle at the front.

Stephen de Blois, who was beside the king, suddenly spoke: "Your Majesty, shall we rush first?" ”

Philip glanced at the eager knights of the Loire Valley, their helmets still had the grooves of their swords, obviously the elite who had just experienced the war on the Western Front, so Philip replied in as soft a tone as possible: "Rodrigo is not a Norman madman from Montgomery and Berem, he will not be without a follow-up, and the knight of the Lord is the sharpest blade of the throne, so—let the English lose some blood first, you just need to retrieve the red dragon banner for us." ”

The Red Dragon Banner from the Aberfairau royal family of Wales, the trophy captured by the Earl of Rodrigo from Prince Grufiz and the fall of the King of Glamorgan and the Aberfeeau royal family, known to the English conquerors as the "blood dragon", is now flying over the central position of England.

The English warriors clamped the long handle of the battle axe with their steel-clad fingers, and the steel arms were slightly stretched to form a rhythmic front line, and the hooves of the Frankish heavy horses grew louder and louder, and these Anglo-Danish warriors were stunned and stunned, except for the frozen blue eyes that showed a glimmer of life through the gaps in their visors.

The sound of whizzing arrows breaking through the air came from the flanks, and the Norman knight was first hit by a dense rain of arrows, and the iron axe pierced the neck and torso of the heavy warhorse, and the Norman warhorse, which had had its blood vessels or trachea severed, let out a mournful roar, and then struggled violently and fell to the ground. The unprepared knights flipped on their backs, and more continued to push forward.

The Frankish cavalry, whose horses were covered with metal or fabric armor and had a more docile character, suffered little loss in this round of rapid fire, but the coordinated speed of the charge was affected both in the center and on the right flank.

"Hurry up, go up......," the King muttered, as if the faint sound of the faint sound could move the cavalry to speed up like a charm.

The arrows from the cold wind continued to flow, mixed with condensed moisture, piercing into the horse's belly and jamming into the gaps in the armor. The dripping blood and twitching horses exacerbated the confusion of the formation, and the crazy wounded horses began to rush forward, and a red fiery horse nailed itself directly to the top of the picket of the rejection horse, this frenzied atmosphere was still contagious, and at the runaway speed, the reins were less and less able to change anything, whether it was the trajectory of movement or the mood of the mount.

What Philip had hoped for happened, but as the speed spiraled out of control, the cavalry dispersed.

In this way, the barbarian-like Frankish knights and the mortally defeated but stubborn Norman knights squeezed out a rain of arrows almost simultaneously and slammed into the long-awaited array of defenders.

The kicked over Theon and the guards wielding axes and axes howled together, and the chill that invaded the muscles and bones tore through the speeding flesh with the iron light.

Philip was dumbfounded, and ambition quietly melted.

How so!

The frightened Frankish knights began to flee back in droves, while orderly orders continued to be issued from the center and flanks of the British army.

At some point, Lufus had already appeared at the side of the French king.

"Your Majesty......"

"Quick, raise the black flag!" Philip spoke swiftly to the Norman vassal.

There is no need to worry about the future, all forces must be mobilized, victory is the only pursuit, and politics must wait until after the war to consider!

When the Black Flag appeared on the right flank of the Frankish army, a detachment of men appeared on the left flank of England on the opposite side, and at the same time, the roar of men and horses was heard on the frozen river - the armies of Henry's Norman knights and the Count of Pontillo were finally launched.

The news that Hugg had been rescued from his home camp calmed Philip's mind a little, but he still did not dare to slacken, and he must immediately move forward and settle the battle before Henry and Count Quay's men were cut and slaughtered.

The Franks marched forward, breaking through the snow, and a huge wave spread out on the plain, Henry's Norman detachment had only a dozen horsemen, wandering in the distance, as if they did not dare to rush directly into England's own formation, William Lufus's main force was accelerating, and the two brothers faintly formed a joint encirclement of the British army.

On the black glacier, thousands of horsemen are about to join the warband, the desperate flesh mill is forming, and the destruction of the English is getting closer and closer.

On the still ground, blood was still flowing, broken limbs and shields lay on the ground, sonorous armor formed three iron chains, and the continuous chanting of different languages between the ranks seemed to make an unyielding oath.

The curtain of arrows, the shaking of iron hooves, and the majestic song of mountains and rivers could not stop the steady progress of the Frankish behemoth, and the sudden dull sky foreshadowed the bloody slaughter.

This time, the weight of the Franks was overwhelming, and on the wide front of the battlefield, a large number of infantry and cavalry converged into a complete attack wave, with the ironclad knights as the main force of the frontal breakthrough, and the accompanying infantry responsible for following up the occupation.

Stephen de Blois arrived first and spun his horse for a week before he began to stop and sort out the pace of the following knights of the Loire Valley. A mountain charge can shake the most brutal northern warriors, and Stephen is convinced of this.

Rodrigo finally began to move, and to be able to organize a battle charge of this magnitude, there were indeed some outstanding people among the Franks.

Such a battle formation is clearly the resurrection of William, Duke of Normandy.

Devouring the maelstrom of life, and the English are in the center. Rodrigo couldn't help but smile bitterly: I hope they move quickly, otherwise today's loss will not be small.

The armor on the glacier continued to advance, and the horse's hooves swept up the high mausoleum on the riverbank, and these horseback men could already see the golden flame banner of the Frankish king.

"Hang our flags and let everyone know we've arrived." A voice rang out from the front of the cavalry.

So the Wyvern Wind Vane rose over the glacier.