Marshal Simon Gallieni took up the horsewhip and pointed on the sand table:

"You pass behind the First Army and arrive at this position, which is the connection point between the forces of the Sylvinian Empire and the Knights Nation, and your mission is to cut off their connection, and if the battle fails, at least neutralize a wave of attacks.

If it goes well, it will open a gap in the counterattack, and you must remember that no matter what kind of artillery fire you encounter, you must not hesitate to move forward.

His Majesty the Duke is personally commanding the right flank front, and she is my student and will surely understand what I mean! ”

The smile of Field Marshal Lanfield, the commander of the Guards, was full of confidence: "Every time we fight, we are treated as treasures, and every time we stay in the rear and have nothing to do, it is very boring!" Don't worry, there's nothing we can't do, just wait for the good news! ”

At 16 o'clock in the afternoon, the front line of the battle of the Nord River.

A general rode up to the duke and said in a dejected tone:

"Your Majesty, I once again advise you to withdraw from the battlefield, the infantry front is about to be unable to hold out, and the infantry division under my command has been beaten to only one battalion! The enemy is about to hit you! I beg you! Retreat to the rear! ”

Facing the general, whose face was blackened by gunpowder smoke and looked excited, the duke responded indifferently: "Yes, it's coming, I saw it." A large-caliber cannon shell whistled past her with a strong wind, breaking a pine tree directly.

"Your Majesty, Field Marshal Lanfield, the commander of the Guards, has arrived at the front!"

"Let him come."

Surrounded by many of the generals of the Guards, the dashing, blonde Field Marshal Lanfield approached the duke, slammed the heel of his shoe, and gave the standard standing salute.

"Your Majesty, I have come on the orders of Marshal Simon, and I have been tasked with launching an attack at once, with the goal of cutting off the connection between the two coalition forces."

"The Guards haven't fought for a long time, are the warriors ready?"

"Scrappy! Your Majesty! ”

"I'm not fit right now and can't fight like I did last time, but I'll stand here and watch you perform, don't let me down!"

Marshal Lanfield drew his sword and said sharply: "Your Majesty, the guards of the Duchy of Valstad obey the orders of the master of the Golden Lake Palace, and we are willing to swear to serve you to the death, please witness our glory!" ”

The line infantry standing by at the rear of the line sat in place to rest, and the sound of artillery and shouts of killing on the front line kept them highly nervous, and occasionally enemy shells were fired into the depth of the line, and once hit, they would cause extensive damage.

In order to appease the soldiers, the commanders began to distribute gin, and the soldiers took out the enamel cups hanging from their backpacks with trembling hands, and poured the fragrant wine into the glasses, and the mouth of the cup made a sound of hitting their teeth, and the gin reached the stomach like a warm current.

But they were surrounded by corpses that had been blown up by shells, and the wine could not dispel the fear in their hearts.

A veteran knelt on the ground and prayed with his back to the sky: "The artillery fire of the coalition forces has begun to extend again...... Those who were before us are dead, and it is our turn, O glorious and merciful God! Help us! ”

At this moment, the voice of the Duke of Valstad came from the high ground in the distance, and she could only hear her shouting:

"Guards, forward!"

Everyone heard this, the crowd stirred, the sleepiness and slackness subsided for a while, and the officers and men on standby cheered up and looked around, wondering what was happening.

The stones on the ground began to tremble, and the majestic military music came from behind them, interrupting the restless minds of the soldiers, and the long sound of military trumpets seemed to be endless.

A splendid army slowly approached, their boots marching to the rhythm of the drums, and anyone could tell that they were extraordinary.

Military music, flags, uniforms, epaulettes, and the temperament of each person are fundamentally different from ordinary soldiers.

"The Guards are coming!" Someone said.

"Oh my God, what are they going to do? Walk out of the line of defense to die? ”

"Are we going to fight back? Guards, well done! ”

"Warriors of Valsta! Bless you all! ”

Even the wounded who were delirious due to blood loss stood up with everyone, observing the demeanor of this strong team, as if they were watching a rare beauty.

As the officers and soldiers watched this splendid army march to the front, the Templar took out the statue of the Valkyrie Minerva and drew crosses on their chests to pray for the safety of their compatriots.

The Guards of the Duchy of Valstad marched majestically out of the line and advanced under artillery fire.

Every member of the Guards was rigorously selected, between the ages of 18 and 50, had fought in at least three major battles, underwent strict political scrutiny, and was a loyal supporter of the royal family, with no bad records within three generations of his family.

These experienced and sturdy warriors swore to the death of Duke Valstad.

The sight of the finest leather boots stepping over stiff corpses, the blood flowing, and the choking smoke of gunpowder was taken for all the sight of the richly dressed Guardsmen, who marched steadily with astonishing indifference, not at all in the cruelty of the battlefield, but rather in the quiet of a garden.

Coalition artillery observers noticed them, and each hit of the twelve-pounder cannon created a blood-soaked ravine, shrapnel exploded high in the air, and incendiary bombs filled with kerosene burst into orange flames.

The officers and men of the Guards stepped over the corpses of their comrades, ignoring the desperate cries of the wounded, but followed the rhythm of the drums, shoulder to shoulder, and continued to advance towards the enemy line with steady steps.

At a distance of 300 meters, several Guards light infantry battalions opened fire on the coalition line, inflicting expendable casualties and harassment on the enemy, and after approaching 200 meters, the light infantry battalion retreated, the infantry lines collided, and the real battle began.

The Coalition line infantry was surprised to find that their opponents were a group of large men who were slowly approaching them with rifles in hand.

The tall, strong warriors were the grenadiers of the Guards of the Duchy of Valstad, with an average height of 1.9 meters, wearing towering bearskin hats, bronze cockades carved with night owls, and uniform beards on their faces, all of which made them look like a group of mighty warriors.

They were well armed, with sabers or swords at their waists, in addition to flintlock rifles and bayonets, and cowhide bags hung from their knapsacks stuffed with spherical grenades.

After a volley of gunfire was fired, hundreds of men on each side fell, and the Guards Grenadier paused only to take aim while firing their guns, and instead of continuing to reload the second round of ammunition, they continued with their bayonets.

"Guards grenadiers, charge!" A Guards major shouted.

The trumpeters of the Guards Military Band played a high-spirited and passionate note.

"Long live the Duchy of Valsta!" The grenadiers roared in unison, raised their bayonets, and rushed at a brisk pace.

Some of the timid coalition soldiers were so frightened by this momentum that they peed their pants, some began to retreat, and the morale of the front collapsed.

A hand-to-hand battle of bayonets without suspense soon ended, and the first horizontal line of the coalition forces was broken up in an instant, as if it had been run over by three sets of carriages.

The red-eyed Guards Grenadiers gathered around the military flags, sang military songs, stepped over the bones of the enemy and their comrades, and continued to advance into the depth of the defense.