Unlike the steel phalanx, in which the Red Shirts did not waver in the face of a hail of bullets, the grenadiers of the advance unit charged in loose formations.

The people of Albion shook their heads at this: there was no uniform pace, everyone moved at their own pace, with wide speed and spacing, and looked like a group of untrained peasants rather than regular army soldiers.

"It is impossible for them to break through the trench. ”

The Duke of Wellington sighed, as if in pity, and the Duke of Marlborough, who was on the side, nodded, and raised the telescope again to look at the battlefield.

The sight of thousands of people shouting "Hurrah" to launch a decisive charge was indeed spectacular, but no one thought that such a scattered, non-sustained charge would break through the strong defenses of the Principality, and that depleting the enemy's ammunition was the only thing they could do.

It was a tragedy, but the brave soldiers of the White Army had no choice.

They were actually trained to march in formation, and could march in neat formations like Albion's or Charlemagne's armies, firing ferocious salvos for a hundred years, but only if they had plenty of guns and ammunition. Most of their rifles were still gathering dust in warehouses far behind, and nearly two-thirds of them were holding only the characteristic Ostorian weapon - a short spear with a hook that supported the musket like a forked stick, plus five rounds of ammunition. In this case, it is no longer pointless to continue to insist on a solid phalanx such as a "masse", it is better to free the soldiers from the solid phalanx, and use their speed and flesh and blood to close the distance to the first trench, and provide an opportunity for the brothers who throw the chain bomb and use the demolition team with the blaster.

This was the result of the final discussion between the two commanders of the advance force. In their opinion, it makes no sense to stick to a dense formation without firepower, and it will only waste the lives of the soldiers. Rather than let the soldiers have meaningless "jade shattering", it is better to distance the soldiers and force the principality army to disperse their firepower, once the high hit rate of the dense formation is distributed to the scattered soldiers, the hit rate will definitely drop, as long as the soldiers can hold on to the distance where they can drop bombs, they have a chance.

In fact, the two counts had another idea: even if that battalion could break through the defensive line. There won't be too many soldiers who will be able to storm the trench alive. Soon it will be annihilated by the principality army. But the fact that the soldiers of Ostoria and the Crown Lords had shown great courage and combat effectiveness - they were even better than the armies of a great power like Albion was enough to prompt Albion to reconsider its attitude towards the advance forces, to reassess the value of the Ostoria and San István Crowns, and to no longer see them as mere cannon fodder ready to be sacrificed. Rather, it is a worthy potential ally. Even if you can't do it for a while. The tragic sacrifice of a grenadier battalion was enough to gag everyone. As much as possible, valuable soldiers are wasted meaninglessly.

Calculations aside, the counts' predictions were quite accurate. The dense formation of the previous Red Shirts did invisibly increase the accuracy of the Principality's riflemen in the face of the scattered infantry. The hit rate of the woolly bears has dropped significantly. Although from time to time people were shot and fell, the losses were not high, and the soldiers in white were approaching the trenches at an accelerated pace.

The unexpected surprise surprise left the Duchy Army a little confused, but they soon made up for the brief oversights with efficiency.

On the artillery positions on both flanks, the 6-pounder guns began to roar. This small cannon is specially designed to deal with infantry clusters, under the operation of experienced gunners, it can fire 3~4 times per minute, and 1 shot can shoot 85 1.5 ounce or 41 3.25 ounce projectiles, each fire can create a blank area in the white wall, and the speed of the white flow of people is slowed down under the bombardment of the barrage. Under the whip and scolding of the officers of the New Army, the accuracy rate of the riflemen also began to increase significantly, reaching a rare 12%, although there was still a gap with the theoretical best results of the human camp - 15% of Albion and 20% of Charlemagne Titans's troops, but the actual combat accuracy of the Principality New Army was enough to prove that they really lived up to the name of "elite".

The grenadiers were still trying to advance, charging as fast as they could under a dense barrage, as if artillery fire and volleys of guns could not stop it, until the Principality sharpshooters began to wield their might, and they slowed down.

"Holy, those animals!"

Second Lieutenant Pedolfi Sandor took off his military hat as fast as he could, threw it far away, and then rolled on the spot, and the second lieutenant, covered in mud and looking indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, quickly got up, stepped over the body of the company commander, Lieutenant Falkash, grabbed a short spear and continued to charge. The moment he saw the captain and one of the heralds being shot in the head at the same time, the second lieutenant immediately thought of the "bastard who specializes in hunting officers" that the Albians had once mentioned to them, and the witty second lieutenant put aside his reserve and romance in less than a second, disguised himself, and followed the soldier's charge.

It has to be said that this young officer, who studied literature and poetry at the university, had a very active brain and thought of the right thing to do in the shortest possible time, but this little cleverness did not have much impact on this hunt.

To change the situation, something more practical and powerful is needed.

"Demolition team!"

A bullet grazed Ensign Pedolfi's cheek, and ignoring the burning sting in his cheek, pointed his short spear at a fortification reinforced with sandbags, and cried out:

"Blow it up!"

Three soldiers quickly flashed out of the ranks, their bodies buried low, and one of them, holding something in the shape of a pipe, rushed along the crater to the fortification, under the cover of companions and artillery fire.

"Stop them!"

The captain of the principality, who was crouching in the fortifications and saw this scene with a telescope, shouted, no matter what kind of thing those guys were holding, it would definitely not be a good thing, not to mention that the soldiers in white were approaching this frontier observation post.

In a volley, at least a hundred rifles fired at the three sappers, twitching in a hail of bullets, and the three warriors descended.

Almost immediately, another demolition team took their place, following the same line to continue the unfinished business of their comrades. But in the face of the deadly net of fire of the Duchy Army, they just failed to complete their mission.

The third group immediately followed, and they took the same route, with the same results.

Then came the fourth group......

There were already five demolition teams fighting in the streets, but their deaths were not meaningless, as the Principality's firepower was a little problematic due to the efforts of the demolition teams, and the grenadiers were approaching close enough to drop chain bombs.

Several bombardiers lit the fuse, picked up the ball filled with explosives, and the chain and iron ball began to accelerate. Seeing that it was about to reach the speed needed to throw.

Ping!

The bullet burrowed into the bombardier's head. In the blink of an eye, he was turned into a corpse, and the bomb that had lost control flew out, but the direction was behind the bombardier, in a panicked scream. A couple of unlucky grenadiers were blown into the sky.

"Ulla!"

The furry bears raised their guns and cheered. The officers also smiled. But soon, their smiles froze.

The sixth demolition team seized the short gap and rushed up, and the pipe in his hand also "snorted" with green smoke and sparks.

That's a bomb!!

"Stop them. Hurry !!"

Looking at the approaching hideous faces of the other party, the captain's voice changed tone, dozens of rifles shot together, the leader of the body trembled, and a few bright red blood flowers appeared on the military uniform. But before the soldiers could refill their shots, the madman and his companions rushed to the observation post at an unusually fast speed.

It could be that the group of people had taken medicine before they set off, or it could be the strange force at the scene of the fire, the captain couldn't determine which one was the cause, and the three madmen had already approached to a distance of only a few meters from him.

"Die, hairy bastard!"

The bloodied human shouted, and the next moment his expression changed from anger to confusion, looking down at the burning fuse on the tube.

"Huh? I seem to have miscalculated the length of the fuse?"

And so the explosion happened.

"It's unbelievable that a hairless monkey would dare to use such a weapon. ”

Putting down the binoculars, Colonel Samsonov shook his head wordlessly, the huge explosion did not destroy the observation post itself, but only overturned a few sandbags, blackening the appearance of the command post, and the personnel inside may have been slightly injured, but it did not affect the use of the observation post.

The problem is that this tactic of suicide can put a lot of psychological pressure on the soldiers. Even if not every position will be attacked in this way, when more enemy troops with pipe bombs appear in front of them, the soldiers will be nervous, morale will suffer, shooting accuracy will be reduced, and command will be disorganized.

Perhaps this is not the purpose of the human beings using this tactic, but the unintentional effect of this will give them the opportunity to create a zào.

Can't give them a chance, there isn't an inch of land under the city of Riga to lose!

Colonel Samsonov gritted his teeth and swore secretly, and at that moment the herald ran in front of him.

"Colonel. ”

The herald saluted briefly, glanced at the black-clad priest standing behind Samsonov out of the corner of his eye, and reported breathlessly:

"General Brusilov ordered the 'special assault team' to launch a counterattack against the enemy. ”

Almost at the same time, Colonel Samsonov, along with the other officers present, set their sights on the black-clad priest, the High Priest Vasily Vitalyevich Shulygin, the leader of the notorious magical unit "Black Hundred".

Looking at the grim smile on the high priest's face, the officers groaned inwardly.

(Is the Shogun crazy?)

They are all soldiers, and they know that the essence of war is cruelty and ruthlessness, but it is really difficult for traditional soldiers to accept the Black Centurion Regiment and their newly developed "Heaven's Key", "Special Assault Team" and other things.

As a father of five, Samsonov was particularly unbearable.

He did not want to give the priests a chance to practice their tactics, but the humans and General Brushilov did not give him a choice. With a sigh, the colonel nodded to the eager Shuligin, and the black-clad priest bowed and ran away like a gust of wind, leaving a room of officers with sad faces.

"Let's ventilate. ”

Perhaps unable to stand the dreary atmosphere, Samsonov stepped out of the command bunker, and the officers followed. As soon as he stepped out of the bunker, a puff of gunpowder smoke and the smell of blood wafted over, and the roar of guns and the shouts of soldiers wafted in the wind.

The bloody concert was suddenly joined by a child's cry, and Samsonov couldn't help but shrink his neck.

The wind that carried the child crying was extremely cold on the face. (To be continued......)