The confusion of the Ninth Infantry Regiment in the rear of the palace had already caused panic among the other troops, and the Eighth Infantry Regiment, which was in the middle, quickly set up a defensive line, as the discipline of the Eighth Infantry Regiment of the Janissary Guard, and before this chaotic raid, the expression was staggering.

The 11,000 8th Infantry Regiment did not panic after realizing that the 9th Infantry Regiment had been stabbed in the back, but quickly occupied the commanding heights on both sides of the road in a very orderly manner, avoiding becoming the target of cavalry slaughter in the flat area, and the herald cavalry with the commander's order shouted loudly, like arrows, galloping past the spears of the soldiers in a neat row, and the flag of the 8th Infantry Regiment was erected at the top of the mound, facing the wind and the terrible shouts from the direction of the 9th Infantry Regiment

The commander of the 8th Infantry Regiment, Lescart, gave the order calmly and arranged the defensive line in an orderly manner. He originally wanted to turn around and fight to support the Ninth Infantry Regiment, but when he saw that the battle flag of his colleague Andrew Letzal was cut down in just ten minutes, he knew that the Ninth Infantry Regiment was completely finished, and continuing to stubbornly choose to rescue would only make the form even more unbearable.

The predecessor of the 8th Infantry Regiment, with 3,000 Janissaries as the backbone, was the 7th Squadron of the Gallic Praetorian Guard, a force with a glorious tradition, and the 7th Squadron of the Praetorian Guards was used as an important flank in the heavy battle of Ankra to defeat the 100,000 Slavic army.

The Battle of Ankra was a big gamble for the Gauls, with less than 30,000 troops against the 100,000 Slavs who were high-spirited, it was a desperate battle of life and death. Those who can survive are warriors!

At the most tragic and critical moment of the Battle of Ankra, heavy rain poured down, raindrops hit the muddy swamp ground, human blood was like a cheap dye, staining a place where people were trampled on, mixed with the rain to hit down, forming a large area of red blood in the quagmire of the swamp,

The main forces of the Slavs were most proud of the cold and heavy infantry were introduced into the swamp and mud because of the massive consumption of the body. These strong men wearing dozens of pounds of heavy armor were already out of breath one by one. Some sat on the ground with no body, and in front of them were the Gallic heavy cavalry as the final blow, holding a knight's spear capable of piercing through any heavy armor. Like a storm, it rushed down the slope of the swamp against the group of strong men. Heavy warhorses trampled on them with a thunderous momentum

"Rescue. Quick!" The mournful sound of battle trumpets echoed across the raindrop-filled sky, like the whimper of a beast before it died, and the blackened infantry herd. The Slavic light infantry, wriggling like ants and sensing that the situation was not right on the side, began to fight back frantically from the rout,

"Kill!"

Blood was sprinkled in the wind and rain, and the tribal warlords of the Slavs, who had rarely been on the front line, wore this blood-red ribbon on their foreheads and personally led the charge, and the warlords held high the shuddering head cutters, and hacked the latter to death in the mud in the back.

Behind them, the heads of seven previously dispersed Slavic generals, hung high above battle flags to boost morale at the front,

The icy rain hit the face, but it was dispersed by the hot breath exhaled from the mouth, and the smell of blood that hit the wings of the nose made the whole world look red, and under such stimulation, even the Slavs, who had always been casual in battle, were crazy at that moment, the knives and spears were broken, the armor was cut to pieces, the Gauls and Slavs rushed forward with their bare hands, wrestling and rolling in the muddy water all over the ground, whether it was the Gauls or the Slavs, at this moment, everyone became beasts that only survived for instinct. The clanging of weapons blocks, the terrible screams of the wounded being trampled by the horses, and the falling of the dead to the ground.

In the whirlpool of fierce battles between soldiers and horses, under the torrential rain, blood flowed like a canal.

Lady Scala burst into a terrible brute and crushed the heavily armored Gallic Praetorian Guard by three layers, and every minute and every second, the flanks of the Gallic Praetorian Guard were decreasing, and suddenly, a Slavic officer who rushed into the column of the Gallic Janissary Army got a banner of the Gallic army, and raised his giant sword made of fine iron to smash it.

"No, don't, stop him, shoot him!"

In the screeching of the wind, the Slavic officer was instantly shot into a hedgehog, and two more Slavic infantrymen pounced on him, taking the flag from his hand, and a young Gallic Janissary swooped down, slashing one with a lightning slash, grabbing the banner with his big bloody hand, but the other corner was grabbed by the Slavs.

The two snatched each other without giving in, slashing each other, and did not retreat an inch. In an instant, both of them were covered in bruises and blood, but neither of them would back down, neither of them would let go! This was a warrior fight against a warrior, until the two corpses were chopped by the opposing weapon almost at the same time,

The fierce slamming of the weapon, the sparks splashed, the wounded were moaning, the soldiers were already red-eyed, they were so cumbersome that they even took off their armor, and they went to the field shirtless with their shiny sabers, and they were either you die or I died with a knife, and the feet were slippery and greasy, and they were stepping on the human body, I don't know if they were their own people or the other party's, and the thick smell of blood choked their noses. The 7th Squadron of the Gallic Praetorian Guard, which flanked the flank, desperately maintained the defensive line, and the 3,700 Janissaries resisted the counterattack of tens of thousands of Slavs

Like a small boat desperately holding on to its stability in the stormy sea, it held out until the end of the battle three hours later, when the Slavs' offensive was crushed, and the Gallic light cavalry chased the Slavs like crazy, using their last strength to nail the enemies who were already unable to run one by one with their spears.

As the squadron leader, Lescart was laboriously dug out of the pile of corpses by his subordinates

The shoulder, the waist, and the ribs were stabbed three times by the broad sword of the Slavs, and the thigh was torn off a two-pound piece of flesh by the spikes of the Slavs' mace, but he did not die, and his hand stretched straight to the Gallic banner that had been torn apart by the two corpses

"My lord, the battle flag has been kept, and we have won!"

As if he understood what he meant, his subordinates whimpered and knelt down, covered in blood, and there was silence all around, and in front of him was a pile of corpses like Shura hell, Lethcart glanced at it with difficulty, tears blurred his vision, the seventh squadron of more than 3,000 people, and less than fifty people were left who could stand up,

Lethcart stood on a high place, for the situation in front of him at a glance, the attacking Falcon Empire cavalry is tens of thousands, as fast as a tiger, under such a large group of fierce cavalry raids, even if he may not be able to carry it, compared with the Falcon Empire cavalry who rushed back and forth on the head of the Ninth Infantry Regiment like a flood beast, he cared more about those who had completely lost the will to fight, and the mountains were full of black spots, which was the rout of the Ninth Infantry Regiment who was only thinking about how to escape,

Scattered companions are the most formidable enemies, who will break up their ranks and spread panic on everyone,

"Since it's a war, someone always has to die!"

The five fingers of Lescart's right hand were clenched together, and they became a little pale from the force, and there was blood in his eyes, but he said in a cold tone, "Order all squadrons to prepare for battle!

"Order, there are those who storm the queue without authorization, kill! There are those who retreat without authorization, kill!" As cold and ruthless as he was the voice of the herald cavalry, like a blowing wind, galloped in front of the army again, firm as the plateau land in front of him, revealing thick blood,

"Spear!"

The uniform movements, a gun array with a handle specifically to deal with the impact of the cavalry, exploded suddenly like a spike on the hedgehog's body, and the soldiers' faces were full of determination, there is no doubt that if the rout retreated to their front, the soldiers would decisively stab the spears in their hands, and stab the target in front of them into a hornet's nest, whether it is an enemy or a companion, it must be turned into a corpse, this is the will of the elite of a hundred battles, as if it is fused with the earth under their feet, unshakable!

Not far away, the soldiers of the Ninth Infantry Regiment were swarming

The 8th Gallic Infantry Regiment was full of guns. The first wave of people greeted was not the falcon cavalry who were slaughtering with their knives, but the rout army that was scattered like ants on a hot pan, like a torrent hitting a strong embankment.

The soldiers of the first row crouched down and rested the five-meter-long spear shaft on the ground, pointing the spear point forward, and the second row of spearmen rested the spear shaft on the shoulders of the first row of soldiers, and the third row of soldiers also rested the spear shaft on the shoulders of the second row of soldiers. Three neat rows of spears pointed diagonally ahead, and the dense spear heads were like mountains!

Waiting for the "stab" command, thousands of spears in the first row will be stabbed out at the same time, and bright red blood flowers will bloom in front of the array in an instant, "Why ......" A Gallic rout looked at the tip of the spear piercing his body in disbelief, holding a bloody wound in his hand, and couldn't believe that it was his own people who killed him! Pieces of corpses lay in front of the array of the Eighth Infantry Regiment, "Damn, the Eighth Infantry Regiment is crazy, even killing its own people!"

The rout was so frightened that they screamed, and the people in front were frightened and leaned back, and the people behind couldn't help but move forward, and in front of them, the tips of the long spears moved forward in unison, as if a forest of spears had suddenly appeared on the ground,

Under their horrified gaze, rain and blood dripped down the cold-lit metal spear tips and dripped onto the ground beneath their feet, leaving small red dots (to be continued......