I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 215 Head-on Collision (Part 3)
The classic volleyball killing began.

The Minieses were already within range of the muskets, and their own flintlock muskets were firing fiercely. Rows of muskets, as dense as tree branches, were spewing thick smoke forward.

The deafening volleys of gunfire echoed across the battlefield like the drumbeats of death.

The artillery commander, now a temporary part-time line infantryman, stood at the forefront, holding a flintlock musket, watching the Miniese charging troops fall like waves of wheat being harvested by an invisible scythe.

"First row! Release!"

At the officer's command, the first rank of musketeers pulled their triggers in unison. The moment white smoke billowed out, blood suddenly exploded from the chest of the Miniese officer holding the broken sword fifty paces away. He staggered two more steps before collapsing heavily into the mud.

The Miniese musketeers were also firing, a plume of smoke billowing from the opposite side, lead bullets flying towards them, and the henchmen could see various sounds coming from the musketeers on their left and right.

Some people fell forward silently, while others slumped backward to the ground. After a while, they stood up shakily, reached into their cotton armor, and pulled out something flattened like a lead sheet.

Even though all the musketeers were wearing padded armor, about a third of the men in the front ranks still fell under enemy musket fire.

So much so that the medics waiting in the rear rushed forward, grabbed the collar of a person who had fallen to the ground, and dragged him backward forcefully, regardless of whether he was dead or alive.

"Second row, move forward!"

The henchman watched as the rookie recruit beside him trembled as he stepped forward to fill in. The boy's lips were pale, and the lead bullets fell to the ground twice while he was loading them.

“Don’t be afraid.”

The henchman kicked him in the butt and loudly comforted him.

"Just treat it as training on the training field, hunting wild ducks!"

"Third row! Release!"

A new salvo forced a gap in the charging Minisian phalanx, and a gray-bearded veteran charged ahead alone, having been shot at least three times, yet still staggering forward.

Only when a bullet ripped off his helmet did the still-breathing corpse finally kneel down.

"Load! Load the fuck now!"

The henchman patiently taught the newbie how to load gunpowder and lead bullets. He glimpsed that the Miniese flag had fallen three times and been raised three times. Those idiots were actually charging over the corpses of their comrades, with the closest ones only thirty paces away.

"preparation……"

The musketeer company commander raised his sword, when suddenly a scream rang out. The henchmen turned to look and saw a bloodstain on the surface of the commander's clothes, which was spreading rapidly. His arm hung limply at his sides.

"Let it go! Let it go now!"

The henchman jumped up and shouted, firing his flintlock musket. But a flintlock musket was, in a word, a drop in the ocean on the battlefield.

Because of his lead, a burst of chaotic gunfire rang out from the line of fire, but the scattered lead bullets were no match for the frenzied Minisians, who charged forward with bloodshot eyes.

"Fix bayonets!!!"

The henchman's roar almost tore his throat apart, and the rookie recruit next to him trembled with fear. He frantically tried to draw his bayonet from his waist, but after several clicks, he couldn't get it into the slot properly even after three attempts.

By this time, the Minieses had closed to within ten paces, and the henchmen could even see their bloodstained teeth and bloodshot eyes. The burly man at the front, wielding a chipped axe, charged straight at the henchman. The latter's artillery officer attire, so different from the other musketeers, made him the most conspicuous and handsome figure in the small area.

"For the King!!!"

The henchman charged forward first, using his flintlock pistol as a short weapon, his bayonet plunging precisely into the burly man's throat. Warm blood splattered across his face, a stench so foul it was nauseating. Just as he was about to pull out his blade, a sudden gust of wind swept in from his right…

“Look down!”

The rookie recruit, emboldened by some unknown source, smashed the butt of his rifle into the attacker's temple. The sound of the skull shattering was terrifyingly crisp, but even more terrifying were the endless stream of Minieses surging in from behind.

The battle line instantly descended into chaos. A henchman's bayonet got stuck in the ribs of a dead man, so he simply started swinging his musket like a club. A Minisian soldier's bayonet ripped his sleeve, and he retaliated with a backhand elbow strike, hearing the crisp sound of the other man's nose breaking.

When he finally managed to defeat the enemy, the henchman looked back and found that the recruit had disappeared.

They might be dead, or they might be terrified and flee to the rear... The henchmen didn't have time to think, because new enemies were rushing in.

……

Chris, standing on high ground, watched as the line infantry at the front clashed with the Minieses, the meat grinders beginning to fall. He remained unmoved and did not order his soldiers, who only had bayonets as weapons, to retreat.

It cannot be refunded, nor can it be refunded.

Chris was well aware of the strengths and weaknesses of his soldiers. Their strength was, of course, firepower, while their weakness was their lack of proficiency in close combat and the wide range of their fighting spirit in melee.

Aside from the players, the weakest in combat are, of course, the militia selected from the Oncandra refugees. Their Third Infantry Regiment, apart from having good equipment, is completely inadequate in terms of training and physique.

Even the 4th Infantry Regiment, which was later formed using militia members and remained at the Bolas Fortress, had a higher morale and stronger combat effectiveness than the 3rd Infantry Regiment because the militia members had experienced some battles.

Of the four infantry regiments, the strongest in terms of combat power was actually the Second Infantry Regiment, which was composed of surrendered veterans of the Republic.

The 3rd Infantry Regiment is now facing the enemy head-on.

Chris knew very well that the 3rd Infantry Regiment was bound to collapse, so a sword and shield company from the 3rd Infantry Regiment was already on standby behind them.

Once the front-line troops of the 3rd Infantry Regiment are routed and retreat, luring the enemy deep into their lines, the swordsmen and shieldmen will rush in to annihilate the enemy and buy time.

However, he did not expect that the Third Infantry Regiment would give him face, actually standing still and fighting the charging enemy for twenty minutes before retreating.

These twenty minutes bought the Second Infantry Regiment time to contract its formation on the right and move towards the center.

Chris led an army of over 12,000 men, but 2,000 of them were purely logistical personnel, including army doctors, first responders, various craftsmen, cooks, and laborers—non-combat personnel.

Two thousand people is still a small number. If Chris couldn't buy supplies in bulk online anytime, anywhere, the logistics team should be twice as big.

Of the remaining 10,000 people, more than 3,000 were players, who were accompanied by more than 2,000 NPC followers who served as gunners, scouts, cavalry, and some other miscellaneous positions.

The remaining five thousand men were composed of the Second Infantry Regiment and the Third Infantry Regiment, with the Third Infantry Regiment in the center and the former deployed on the right. The entire formation was a huge square, one kilometer long and one kilometer wide.

(End of this chapter)