The French prepared for artillery fire with eighty cannons, not just the twenty-four twelve-pounder guns originally planned. But its might was not as formidable as Napoleon had hoped.

Meowrington continued to keep his infantry hiding behind the top of the hill in his old way, and most of the French shells burrowed into the rain-soaked dirt of the front slope without causing any harm.

As we all know, in this era, artillery basically used solid shells, and the lethality generally relied on ricochets to cause damage, that is, the shells hit the ground and rebounded to cause multiple injuries.

Of course, the ground needs to be hard enough to produce a ricochet projectile, otherwise it will get stuck in the mud. In addition, the angle of incidence must be as small as possible, only in this way can it be bounced, in order to ensure the angle of incidence, the artillery at that time generally used a flat-fire gun, such a cannon is also called a cannon.

In post-rain weather like the present, it is almost impossible for a cannonball to create the kind of lethal hope that Napoleon had in mind.

What is the situation now, when the cannon sounded a second ago, the British units were so frightened that they all shrank their necks, and when the shells entered the ground, there was no response, and they shrank for a long time before they realized that the French artillery was thundering and raining.

Is this still afraid of a hammer? A large orange cat in charge of reconnaissance happily probed his brain to see what was going on, but was hit through the ear by a flying stone brought up by a cannonball.

Under the pain, he screamed in pain, but unfortunately it didn't help, who let him owe his son kicks?

Some time before Napoleon launched his official attack, the British soldiers were ordered to take out the enamel jars that had been tucked into their field backpacks, and the quartermaster or the bored chief was divided with bottles, and each was given a large sip of gin.

The enamel jar is the treatment only available to elite troops like the Guards, like the three-flowered cat that Louis met before, they can only take out the large jar for eating and fill the wine.

"Guys, come and drink - if you're okay, drink it." The troop commanders shouted as they walked through the ranks.

Walking to the seventy-second regiment where the little three-flowered cat was, the commander looked at the little three-flowered cat who was praying with a string of beads in his hand, stood in front of him with a wine bottle and asked, "Jack?" ”

"No, thank you, sir." Jack politely refused.

The chief didn't speak, but stretched out his cat's paw to rub his head, and continued to walk aside.

When the chief was gone, a two-colored cat beside him held his big rice bowl and elbowed him: "Drink some gin, Jack, this is a greeting from His Majesty." ”

As he spoke, he added: "The next time we go to the palace, remember to remind me to thank him." ”

Jack didn't answer, and asked with a blank expression, "Lawrence, you say...... Will there be a lot of them? ”

Lawrence took a sip of wine, was stirred by the spicy taste, and paused for a moment before answering Jack's question: "I don't have clairvoyance, Jack, how do I know what's going on on the other side of the mountain?" Why don't you go over and ask, and you're like, hey, damn old French, how many of you came? See if they answer your ......"

"After all, you are also unlucky, you met Napoleon in the first war, haha......" Lawrence saw that Jack did not speak, and patted him on the head again: "Forget it, don't think about it, even if there are 100,000 people on the other side of the mountain, it is not that you can persuade them to go back by praying, if prayer is useful, I don't think we will form any anti-French alliance." ”

Jack finally turned his head, looked at his talkative friend and asked curiously, "Aren't you afraid?" ”

"Nothing can intimidate me but stand beside a chattering friend, my dear Jack." Lawrence replied with a bit of a yin and yang swagger.

As if to dispel fear, he picked up his large rice bowl and poured a large sip of wine.

He also folded the little wine that belonged to Jack into his rice jar.

"I'd better drink them all, lest I'm robbed of them by the Frenchman for a while......," Lawrence said to himself, drinking the rest of the wine.

Accompanied by the commander "Seventy-second Regiment, forward!" Jack and Lawrence quickly put away their things, picked up their rifles from the side, and joined the ranks to join the march.

On the edge of the temporary command post, Meow Lington also turned on his horse, looked left and right, and shouted: "Julbrich, where's Jubrich?" ”

"What about it, Your Excellency." A silver tabby hurried out of the tent, he had just gone to relieve himself.

"Inform your darlings that it's time to attack...... Drive the old French man back to meow. Meow Lington commanded.

The babes are referred to as the Scottish Dragoons under the command of Jubrich, similar to a joke.

Jubrich hurriedly saluted yes, lifting his pants as he ran.

When the order was given, the commander of the Combined Brigade, William Ponsonby, was smoking snuff with his adjutant.

"Try this, it tastes so good." Ponsonby took out the delicate locket of snuff and watched the adjutant really twist out a pile, and couldn't help but reproach distressedly: "Ouch, you can waste a little less, this is the last stock meow." ”

After receiving the order to attack, his silver-gray cat's paw drew his saber and put it on his shoulder, turned back and shouted: "This is now!" It's time, Scottish Grey Dragoons! ”

When the trumpeter heard the commander's order, he raised his head and raised his trumpet, and began to blow the trumpet.

The Scottish cavalry, who heard the trumpet, drew their sabers in unison, also on their shoulders.

When the Scottish cavalry attacked, Louis and Chromie were watching the battlefield from the command post. Since the command post is reinforced with protective magic, there is no need to worry about any damage caused by the shells.

From a high vantage point, the cavalrymen in high bearskin hats marched forward in broken steps, gradually accelerating, and from a distance, like a wave of black, red and gray, the speed was getting faster and faster, and the galloping horses were wrapped in heavy smoke and dust, rushing towards the artillery positions of the French vanguard.

From time to time, shells fell on them, bringing up puffs of smoke, but the Scottish cavalry was undaunted and continued to charge at their targets.

Napoleon, who was at the French command post, of course, also noticed the charging cavalry, and he looked ahead, as if talking to himself.

"Those on gray horses look horrible meows."

"They are the most noble cavalry in all of Europe, but the lowest in command." Surt, who was beside him, said.

"Maybe, maybe." Napoleon repeated it twice, noncommittally, and again: "What about my Polish lancers?" Order them to attack, and let these British old men taste our awesome meow! ”

The Polish lancers received the order, and with the sound of their trumpets, they raised their spears in unison and began to march briskly in the direction of the Scottish cavalry mixed brigade.

In the high place, Jubrich also saw the conspicuous lancers, and his intestines were now about to turn green, he really shouldn't have sent the gray cavalry to attack the enemy artillery position so early, now it's okay, isn't this the water manwave heights?

But he didn't think about what to do with the artillery positions that had already threatened the Meowlington army if he didn't send this wave?

"Blow the trumpet of retreat!" Julbrich immediately ordered the trumpeters on the side.

The trumpeter did as he was told, but the sound on the battlefield was too noisy, and the Scottish Grey Cavalry was also red-eyed, where could he hear his trumpet?

Meow Lington was annoyed by the noise, and the trumpeter played so hard that his ears ached. He stretched out his cat's paws and plucked out his ears, and almost shouted in a scolding voice: "Don't blow your useless trumpet! ”

In fact, he also had a bit of personal emotions, and he obviously regretted it a little after sending out the gray cavalry.

In this way, the coalition army, which was already inferior in the number of cavalry, was even worse.

The cat put down the trumpet in his hand and looked at Meow Lington aggrievedly, he didn't understand where he had made His Excellency the Marshal angry.

Meow Lington also knew that his behavior was inappropriate, and it was really not a gentleman's doing, so he quickly apologized: "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just worried that you will hurt yourself like this." ”

The artillery fire became more and more rapid, and there were shells constantly falling everywhere, bringing up patches of mud, and the situation on the battlefield was so tense that everyone was concerned about the battle situation of the Scottish cavalry and their own safety, so that no one noticed that the cannonballs landed on the tent next to Meowlington and disappeared strangely.

It could also be that Leaf Goose's Muggle Shielding Charm caused no attention, and Meowrington seemed to have forgotten about Louis's existence.

"Is there any trace of the Eternal Dragon?" Louis glanced up at Chromie, who was bored and in a daze.

"No, it seems like they've given up on this side." Chromie shook her head, she had been searching for the maximum range she could scan all this time, but unfortunately she found nothing.

"So we're going to wait here?" Louis was a little irritable, not everyone could stay on the battlefield, and the feeling of life dying every moment really made the atmosphere extremely depressing.

The only dragons in the entire tent were Chromie and Christasza, the former being accustomed to seeing this kind of life and death scene as a time keeper, and the latter because he had no heart or lungs.

Louis was okay, and Catherine was only a little pale, but Ye Ziyan really couldn't accept this kind of scene, and returned to the original time and space first.

Thinking about it, this should be the reaction of a normal person, after all, everyone is not a bloodthirsty maniac, and it is a bit outrageous to have a big heart and lungs like Christasza.

"Fawn." Catherine's voice was muffled, and her slender hand was on Louis's shoulder.

Louis patted her thin waist and did not speak, and in the blink of an eye, because the French army had a new movement.

Oh, it's a French army roaming the periphery, not at Waterloo, but patrolling and scouting almost twenty kilometers away.

It was the Grouchy mentioned by Mikoro earlier.

There are many theories in history, especially in the works of Zweig, which seem to put the blame on Grouchy, but who is right and who is wrong, this pot may not be so clear, at least he was looking for Blucher outside, it was Napoleon's order.

Now he is riding on a tall horse, holding a basket in his arms, picking strawberries from it to eat.

It looked quite fresh, and he was happy to eat it.

The dull sound of cannon sounded, and Grouchy pressed the basket to the saddle, looked left and right, and asked, "Where is the cannon?" Where to shoot? ”

"It's in the direction of Mont Saint-Jean, Your Excellency." Gérard, who was beside him, replied.

Grouchy was stunned for a moment, thought for a moment, and then replied without saltiness. ”

"Your Excellency, there seems to be a fierce battle in the direction of Mont Saint-Jean, shall we ......?" asked Gérard eagerly, and from the sound of the cannons, he could tell that there must be a big movement there.

His beloved emperor didn't seem to have the same advantage over the allied forces.

"I know you're in a hurry, but please don't rush yet, my general." Grouchy took the strawberry basket again and began to show the strawberries in his mouth.

Géral's face suddenly became ugly, and both cat teeth were stuck outside: "For God's sake, the sound of cannons is calling us!" Let's march in the direction where the sound of artillery is coming from, we have a third of our troops, and our duty is to ......"

Grouchy's face instantly darkened, he tilted his head, and interrupted Gérard's words in an unkind tone: "I don't need you to teach me what our duty is, General, the order I received from the Emperor is clear, that is, let my sword always chase after Blucher's meow." ”

Gérard was really anxious, Grouchy's untempered appearance really made him doubt the current composition of this person, he stiffened his neck angrily, and even sprayed saliva on Grouchie's strawberries: "If you are not ready to march towards the sound of cannons, then let me go!" ”

"Split my army? Hum...... Meow Lanci's laws will sentence me to hanging. Grouchy remained unmoved, still eating strawberries at ease with the old god.

"You ......" Gérard couldn't say a word when he was choked, and could only point to Grouchy with a trembling voice, and then put it down in a dejected state for a while.

(You'll be a meow Lanci's sinner, Grouchy...... ）

Gérard, who could not change the manager's mind, could only look up to the sky and sigh, silently praying in his heart for the emperor and Meow Lancy.

……

While Grouchey was unmoved, the Duke of Meorrington and Napoleon discovered at the same time that in the distance of the main battlefield of Waterloo, a force of about five or six thousand men was marching towards the battlefield.

"Rabe Duvale!" Napoleon shouted.

Duvalle stepped forward, and Napoleon handed him the telescope and pointed it in the direction of the unknown troops he saw: "What is that moving?" ”

"I saw some troops marching in columns, about five or six thousand...... General Duwar replied.

"He's right." Soult added behind him.

The telescope effect of this era is not particularly ideal, and it is really impossible to see anything clearly when it is far away. Napoleon couldn't figure out whose troops it was, so he could only ask the generals on the side: "Whose troops are they?" Is it ours, or is it Prumeow's? ”

"This ...... "Generals, you look at me, I look at you, at this distance, you can't see the color of the army's uniform at all, and everyone doesn't know how to answer for a while."