Diamonds can cut through glass, and glass can cut wood. When two forces collide, it is always the determined side that wins. The same is true of war.

When the tankers discovered that the furious knights could cut through the tracks, they developed a fear of unknown materials - despite their technological superiority, they were still afraid of the knights' swords of unknown texture. Because it was a blade capable of cutting through steel, and the tankmen didn't know anything about it.

This is the difference in fighting spirit - the dragoons look at death on the way to the charge, and the tankers hide in the cockpit and are uneasy.

One after another, the tanks whose tracks were removed were paralyzed on the ground and forced to stop firing. The tankman looked around through a narrow lookout glass, but he looked like a leopard in a tube, and could only see the red gold meteors rushing by, but there was nothing he could do.

In fact, the armored brigade's counterattack was very stubborn, and the leading twenty tanks had already adjusted their firing posture and poured overwhelming artillery fire on the dragoons. Griffith, who was in the lead, galloped through the artillery fire and could hear the "whoosh" of shells passing by.

Griffith had already eaten two cannons. The first shot was in the middle of the horse breastplate, and the sound was as agitated as a temple bell. The warhead is like a stone entering the water, stirring up a circle of golden ripples, and when the ripples of holy light dissipate, the shining vest will be eclipsed, and the bullet is like a bird with broken wings and falling to the ground.

Sure enough, as Vincent said, the Holy Light Force Field absorbed the kinetic energy of the cannonball and completed its mission as a disposable.

Another shell hit Griffith's thigh, shattering half of his armor into a dull shrew.

But Griffith knows that the battlefield is a contest of wills, and victory or defeat depends on who is the diamond and who is the glass.

Therefore, even if he was hit by two bullets, the square flag he held was still pulled straight by the wind, and this brilliant flag always guided the first squadron, and the dragoons charged wherever the flag flew, and even if the comrades who were shot rolled in the grass waves, even if the stumbling cavalry broke their necks, the remaining knights would gather in the direction of the banner with a clear goal, and destroy all enemies in their path!

Tank after tank, overtaken and paralyzed by the cavalry, slumped on the grass and hastily extinguished, turret after turret reluctantly turned to the cavalry, spewing tongues of fire at the backs of those cloaked waves. The dying neighing of the war horse pierced the sky.

Even though the grass is full of corpses and rivers of blood, dozens of gorgeous cloaks are still unfurled in the wilderness, and those dazzling charging figures are like meteorite rain dragging tail inflammation to occupy the sky, bursting with terrifying brilliance in the fall!

The sacrifice of the dragoons was far heavier than that of the tank brigades, but their mission was bound to be accomplished. Even if more than half of the crew is reduced, even if Griffith is left alone and riding, this earth-shattering gallop will persist to the end, and will never give up halfway.

It is the man who gives the charge a romance, and swears to follow it, because the chivalry will never die!

Just five minutes later, the dragoons pierced the tank group like a rain of arrows, so the tank position was pierced through the heart by ten thousand arrows.

The "ruins" of tanks were dotted in the wilderness, and more than 80 of them were emitting black smoke, and only the 12 tanks that served as the vanguard survived.

In response to the pursuit of the dragoons, they organized effective tactics in time. Under the command of the brigade commander, they formed a fire cover formation, charged head-on with the dragoons, and forcibly tore apart the dragoons' line. After leaving behind the four paralyzed wingmen, the twelve steam tanks that survived the catastrophe successfully preserved their tracks and drove straight back into the French army, where they were quickly engulfed and surrounded by the French infantry.

The knights were out of danger before they reined in their horses, and the pages of flying red cloaks fell from their horses.

Griffith looked back and saw that the blue-watered French infantry had engulfed the third squadron of dragoons in charge of the rear of the palace.

Everyone looked far away, and in the suffocating dead silence, everyone could vaguely see that in that place surrounded by the French army, the blood lion square flag dedicated to Major General Claude fluttered in the blue sea of people, and the team rushed left and right, and the flag rose upside down.

Griffith could imagine that when the Flag Bearer fell from his horse, an unyielding robe would take the flag in his hand and raise it high. In this way, no matter where their comrades are fighting, as long as they look up and see that the flag is still standing, they can determine the direction of regrouping.

However, the dense French army had already swept over Claude's line like an ocean engulfing the beach, slowly engulfing the position, and encircling them.

Griffith looked at the stumbling military flag as if he were looking at a ship floating in the angry sea. He wanted to go back to save Claude, but the two French divisions were advancing step by step, and the horses under the saddle were already panting, and Griffith's palms were sweating profusely, and the tiger's mouth was so numb that he could barely hold his sword.

The 1st Squadron destroyed the tank group's mobility as promised, which depleted their physical strength - if the 1st Squadron killed it again, it would be tantamount to self-destruction.

Griffith lifted his visor and took a big breath of air, and only heavy gasps could be heard in the wilderness. At this moment, Griffith saw Claude's banner fall.

His body shook on the saddle, and the man suddenly fell off the horse, and with a "bang" even the armor fell to the ground. The knights on both sides shouted "Major General" and rushed over to help.

Griffith ripped off his helmet and ploughed his face over his chainmail gloves until he was in his hair. His right fist smashed a hole into the grass one by one.

"Grand Commander Claude...... And my father...... All of them were trapped in the enemy's army. Griffith suddenly stood up, pushed away the knight who was supporting, and while his shoulders trembled with anger, he took a deep breath to restrain his facial twitches: "Friends who are willing to kill back with me, please get out of the ranks!"

The knights looked at each other. The adjutant of the 1st squadron rushed over again, and he grabbed the major general who was trying to mount his horse, and shouted: "Your Excellency! If Grand Commander Claude is here, he will never approve it!"

"Then you will let the most noble generals fall into the enemy camp!" Griffith struggled, roared hoarsely, and his red hair sprinkled his face: "A war minister, a dragoon commander! They are such a powerful general, but they command the battle in the most dangerous area! We must bring them back alive!"

"Your Excellency!" cried out the lieutenant dragoon, clinging to Griffith's leg, with tears streaming down his eyes, "Admiral Farina...... Already martyred!"

Griffith suddenly stopped struggling. He quietly lifted his helmet, staring vacantly into the distance, his back swaying all the time—the knights' hearts were cold at the sight of the silhouette, as if they had experienced Griffith being stabbed through the heart.

The major general, who had lost his father, stood on the cold wilderness, lost his sense of touch, and lightly recalled what his father looked like when he made the battle plan. He remembered that his father was verbose tonight, always trying to teach him more, and he remembered that Claude had left smiling and waving at him—the old generals walked so calmly as if to say, "I'll be back in half an hour." But this is a farewell.

Why do you want to break the queen? Why do you want to be in the limelight when you have an old bone?—— Griffith thought blankly.

Actually, in fact, the old men are trying to keep the young dragoons alive?—— Griffith looked down at his hands, and suddenly found a tear on his palm, which was covered with chain mail.

The impossible task has already been completed by the old generals. The path of the dragoons was left to the young knights to follow. This last wish was pinned on the smile of Grand Commander Claude, in the precepts of Admiral Farina, and in the decision of the military council - when the dragoons must be burned, the old generals chose to keep hope.

The sound of cannons, gunfire, and neighing of horses in the distance was still floating, and although the sound was low, it was extremely harsh. Griffith looked up at the starry sky in the gloomy night, gritted his teeth, and tears rolled in his eyes.

"When we stand on the grass and breathe, we should remember that the generals there did not have to die. Once they had the power to cover the sky, today it is dwarfed and humbled before them. Griffith gritted his teeth and held back tears, words to cover up the sobs: "They chose to die under the horse's hooves so that we should live to celebrate the victory." Really?"

"Yes!" the adjutant was already in pain.

Griffith's eyes widened, and he continued to burst out between his teeth: "Without the old general's struggle, the dragoons would not have passed." Without the sacrifice of the old general, the dragoons had no future. You say, yes?"

"Yes!" the dragoons swallowed.

"In front of us is the French Third Wing Army. Every survivor is obliged to take revenge on them, we will crush this army, we will hunt them down to the ends of the earth, and we will not accept surrender of any kind. Griffith solemnly put on his helmet and pulled down his armor, and the indifferent metal mask replaced his expression and position, and only a heart-wrenching declaration echoed in the wilderness: "Revenge is also an obligation, and these 20,000 French troops can only exchange death for forgiveness, I swear in the name of the dragoons!"

"Swear in the name of the dragoons!" metal masks, all shouting a declaration of grief and indignation.