"Real rubbish. Egir snorted lightly, and said this to the King of France, who he had always looked down on. However, as soon as the words fell, Joan of Arc, who was standing next to her, gritted her teeth and reached out to tear off her nun's robe. The full suit of armor and battle robes underneath is revealed. Then he turned and ran down the watchtower.

"Joan of Arc, what are you going to do?" Egil tried to hold Joan of Arc, but he didn't. So he gritted his teeth and ran away with Joan of Arc.

"Alpha, Bishop Peter," Egir called out to his two lieutenants as he ran, as well as the Knights of the Guard.

And wait until this ticket person runs down from the top of the watchtower. Joan of Arc had already turned over on her horse, and looking at the level of skillful movements, she knew that the months of nun life had not dulled her skills.

"The French need me. Joan of Arc said to Egil.

"But you don't need them, you're my nun now," Egir shouted to Joan of Arc.

“...... I'm very sorry. But let me be a little willful, okay?" Jeanne d'Arc sighed softly, then ignored Egir and ran in the direction of the French army on the right flank.

“...... Look at it, look at it, and pull out your eyes," Enraged, Egil turned and shouted to the group of knights of the Guards who wanted to laugh but didn't dare to laugh. Then he ran back to the watchtower in a bad mood: "Are the cavalry ready, send three hundred heavy cavalry to the aid of the French, and the rest of the cavalry will go around the flanks and crush the two garrisons of the enemy."

Egil ordered angrily. As a result, a total of more than 1,700 hoplites, who had not fully recovered their physical strength, sent 300 Norman heavy cavalry to assist the French according to Egil's orders. The remaining 1,400 hoplites divided into two groups and ran towards the flanks.

At this moment, more than five hours have passed since the start of the war. The war has gradually entered a white-hot stage. Both sides have committed the vast majority of their forces to the battlefield. There are not many reserves left. And even such a small and insignificant reserve force is unlikely to have much impact on the situation of the war.

Joan of Arc had run into the ranks of the French, and after slaying several Eastern Roman hoplites in succession, moved to the front of the line, and then spread her red, white, and blue banner from her waist like a wind. After that, he instantly killed an Eastern Roman lancer who was rushing towards her with short eyes, snatched his spear, used it as a flagpole, and raised her banner.

"That's the flag of General Joan of Arc" The French soldier with better eyes shouted after seeing that special banner: "General Joan of Arc is here"

After learning of such news, the French soldiers were instantly encouraged. The name Joan of Arc was like a magic spell, which made the French soldiers burst into extremely powerful combat power in an instant. At the same time, Joan of Arc also performed her own stunts and shone with the light of holiness. The defense and morale of the French soldiers increased significantly. The French army became rock solid in an instant, and the Eastern Roman lancers reluctantly found that their charge could no longer cause significant harm to these Frenchmen. Even these French peasants became unusually brave, and they no longer panicked or even fled in the face of cavalry.

"Long live General Joan of Arc" Seeing that their own army once again had the upper hand, the French soldiers shouted excitedly. And Joan of Arc is also very unceremoniously regarded himself as the commander of this army. Shouting loudly to motivate their morale and at the same time giving orders.

And behind all this glory, cheering and fighting, a pair of eyes of extreme anger and extreme jealousy stared at Joan of Arc. King Philip II of France found all his efforts up to this point ridiculous—he did his best to buy the hearts of the army, but it was not as effective as Joan of Arc's woman standing in front of the battlefield for a few minutes. After a few months, Philip II thought he was able to fully master the army. But the reality before him now told him that Joan of Arc was still the best commander in the hearts of this group of French people. They would obey Joan of Arc more than he, the king of France. ...,

Her great popularity among the French was like a boulder on Philip II, making him extremely uncomfortable. It's uncomfortable to die. It's so uncomfortable that I'm going crazy.

"This woman must die. After this, Philip II silently made up his mind. Joan of Arc is a threat anyway. Originally, he thought that he had banished her to Norman, and killed her under the pretense of the Norman king. That's fine. But who knows how the witch used to fascinate that neurotic madman so much - well, Joan of Arc was indeed a very beautiful woman, this Philip II did not deny it - well, that is not really the point. The point is that Philip II had already made up his mind to kill the woman.

Well, at least until after this campaign is over.

At this moment, two Norman hoplites had circled the flanks of the battlefield, and with the assistance of the armies of the northern Italian city-states, they had defeated the Eastern Roman lancers, who were already exhausted. They then charged the garrison on the enemy flank.

It was previously said that such a garrison corps was actually a semi-professional soldier who was half peasant and half soldier. The combat effectiveness is much worse than that of the professional Eastern Roman legionnaires. And the equipment is not going to be very good. Although they were also under the Eastern Roman banner, the soldiers of these sub-legions were equally motivated to fight. However, the will to fight cannot be transformed into chain mail, large shields and sharp spears, or extra-long spears.

They had only thin leather armor, short swords, skinned wooden shields, and light javelins.

So, they died a terrible death.

The Norman heavy cavalry charged with madness, indomitable, and great lethality to break the last bit of hope in the hearts of these so-called professional peasant soldiers. The most proud, and the bravery of being a soldier of the Eastern Roman Empire.

Looking at the cavalry that rushed over like a mountain of mountains, the mixed body was wrapped in good armor and held a cavalry spear with a steel spear head, like a monster that appeared from another world. The Eastern Roman infantry of the garrison were all frightened and turned pale. The arm that had been trained countless times was also trembling. A round of light javelin attacks had little effect—and the Roman garrison infantry in the front row was knocked over on their backs. The horror of the hoplites was revealed at this moment. Shattered bones, pierced bodies, broken limbs, dying screams. Also, the wild laughter of the Norman heavy cavalry.

A total of three waves of charges, in just one round, routed thousands of Roman infantry. The army of the northern Italian city-states, as well as the rabble, were greatly encouraged, and rushed forward with a roar, and launched an attack on the flank of the Eastern Roman army.

As a last resort. The Eastern Roman army shrunk its formation, and the Eastern Roman array, which originally seemed to be a cone, now lost the arrows and wings of the cone, and looked more like a spherical circle.

That is, surrounded.

At this moment, Narcisse already sensed that something was wrong. He has lost control of the battlefield. He had no reserves, no cavalry, no other way to fill the line, or to break the enemy.

However, Narcis was not reconciled. He knew that if he was defeated here, then everything would be over. He wants revenge, and what he wants to do will never come true. So, no matter what, you have to try it - even if someone can tell him that eating can save the current battle, Narcisse will not hesitate to sit down for a while.

It has to be said that as an excellent commander, Narciss's vision is still there. After some observation, he saw a "point" that turned the tide of the battle

The group of shrinking formations - also the first armies to start shrinking formations. The Varangian mercenaries. Narcisse had already discovered that the cunning and rude brutes were not doing their best. But at the beginning of the war, after a slight setback, he shrank his formation, and only defended and did not attack. This led directly to the failure of Narciss's cone charge through the chisel tactics. Moreover, it is not allowed to change tactics, broaden the battle front, and compete with the enemy.

Narcisse hated the Varangian mercenaries for this, and the eunuchs generally had very small eyes. However, Narsis also understood. The Varangian patriarch, who was an important vassal of the Eastern Roman Emperor, was actually no less important than him as a satrap. Although now it belongs to its own combat sequence. But it was absolutely impossible for Harold to really listen to him.

They were not Romans. They could not fight to the death for the good of Rome. Because the army is their biggest capital.

However, if they were willing to charge again, the Eastern Roman army could once again attract at least 10,000 enemy soldiers on the front. In this way, the Eastern Roman legions on both flanks could breathe a sigh of relief. The formation can spread out a little bit again. Adjust the position of each reserve brigade again. The Eastern Roman army was able to hold out for a little longer, and then, after that, ......

After that, I don't know.

So Narcisse made a quick decision and said to the heralds, "Tell the Varangians. If they are able to continue the attack, I am willing to pay them a reward of 100,000 gold coins in my private capacity. ”

"There's going to be a little bit of ...... Well...... God forbid. Narsis watched as the herald ran into battle until he vanished. After that, he sighed with emotion...... ，