I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 251 Encounter Battle (Part 1)

Five hundred figures twisted into a streak of iron-gray venomous snake on the winding mountain road between the cliffs. The sound of flintlock muskets clashing with bayonet sheaths echoed through the valley, and the sound of footsteps thundered. On the treacherous path, which was less than three meters wide, the players managed to run with the momentum and commotion of a cavalry march.

Xiao Dao ran ahead with his buttocks sticking out. He was breathing heavily. It was early winter in the mountains, and the mountain paths were covered in frost. Yet, he felt no cold at all. With each breath, a cloud of white mist would spray out in front of him, and then Xiao Dao would crash headfirst into the mist.

This caused a thin layer of frost to form on Xiaodao's eyebrows, nose, and collar, making him look like he was wearing a white mask and neck protector.

"Hey, boss, boss..."

A player hurriedly caught up, panting and hoarse, his cotton armor back soaked with cold sweat.

"If we keep running like this, we'll die of exhaustion before we even see the enemy..."

Xiao Dao slowed down, turned around and scanned the group. He then observed that the other players were indeed not in good condition; everyone was still running at a brisk pace.

However, judging from the white mist they exhaled and their rapid breathing, it was clear that their stamina had already crossed the midline.

They could continue the forced march, but in such cold weather, if they overexert the players' physical strength, non-combat casualties could easily occur.

Just ahead was the exit of the treacherous mountain road. Xiao Dao walked quickly for several dozen steps and stopped at the edge of a forest.

"Rest for ten minutes."

Xiao Dao gritted his teeth and squeezed out those words. He stopped, and because of his lead, the players behind him also stopped one after another, gathered by the roadside, and walked towards the woods on the side.

Ignoring the chill of the surrounding forest, they searched for relatively clean, snow-free spots to sit down and gulped down the honey water from their jugs.

The knife was located halfway up a mountain. The ancient passage of Bagnia went up the mountain and then over it. The mountain path was made of stones, bricks, wooden planks and mud, and was not very flat, but it was enough for two-wheeled carriages to pass through.

After Xiao Dao stopped the group, he stood by the roadside and observed the situation in front and behind. Fifty meters behind him was a treacherous mountain path less than three meters wide, and a hundred meters ahead was a bend in the mountain path.

Oh my god, this terrain is a bit dangerous!
"Scouts, scout team, advance 500 meters to provide early warning..."

Before he could finish speaking, Xiao Dao heard a faint metallic clang coming from around the bend in the mountain road ahead. He immediately stopped, his pupils contracted to pinpoints, and his right hand swiftly swung the flintlock pistol from his back into his hand.

Then Xiao Dao remained standing still, his left hand outstretched and swung backward sharply... This was the unique "silence and preparation for battle" gesture of the Overlord Tigers.

Among the five hundred players in the forest, some immediately noticed the guild leader's actions and quickly waved and whispered warnings to the others around them.

Soon, after ten seconds, the entire forest fell silent. All the players had turned into statues, holding flintlock pistols and pointing them toward the corner ahead, their movements frozen in place.

On the rock face at the bend of the mountain path, first the cold glint of a three-meter-long spear pierced the morning mist, followed by the copper-inlaid shoulder guards of a Bominian arquebusier, gleaming dangerously golden-red in the midday sun.

Xiao Dao's Adam's apple bobbed. His eyesight was excellent; he could clearly see the swordsmen and shieldmen in the front row adjusting their chainmail. One young soldier even had his helmet tucked under his arm and was walking while turning his head to talk and laugh with his comrades.

"Damn it, they really are the enemy!"

Xiao Dao shouted with delight. He had been worried that the approaching group might be a daring merchant caravan traveling during the war, or perhaps a group of refugees. But now, looking at their flags...

Wow, they're Bohemians! What a surprise!
"First and second companies, prepare for a three-stage attack; the rest of you, advance along the flanks of the mountain forest!!!"

Xiao Dao roared and shouted, and behind him, more than two hundred players rushed out and quickly formed ranks behind him.

The first row of players knelt on one knee, as steady as a rock, their flintlock rifles slightly raised, aimed at the enemy in front. The second row bent over, their bodies slightly leaning forward, forming a second line of fire. The third row raised their rifles, waiting for the order to fire.

The clicking sounds of the flintlock triggers rising and falling, one after another, like death counting its chips, or the gears of fate turning.

The other players remained in the mountains, all with bayonets fixed, striding forward through the bushes, dry grass, and patches of snow.

All of these actions were completed within one minute.

At that moment, when the vanguard of the Pominia, numbering about a hundred men, had also turned the corner, time seemed to freeze.

The spearman at the front remained in the motion of raising his hand to drink water, the water pouch slipping from his fingers, the water droplets bouncing off the rock face clearly visible. The young soldier who wasn't wearing a helmet and was chatting with his comrades also turned around, his mouth open in an "O" shape, revealing his gums with a missing front tooth, the white mist he exhaled condensing into ice crystals in the morning light.

They were all stunned, completely unable to understand or realize what they were seeing.

"Enemy attack!!!"

It wasn't until a low-ranking Bohemian officer screamed that the Bohemians snapped out of their daze, hurriedly putting down their weapons and preparing to fight.

This was so sudden. According to standard marching regulations, there should have been scouts exploring ahead. This encounter was completely wrong and unexpected by everyone.

As the Bohemians hastily deployed their formation, Little Knife shouted at the same time.

"Fire!!!"

The first volley of lead bullets tore through the morning mist, and a hundred meters away, the bronze-inlaid breastplates of the front-line spearmen of the Bohemian vanguard burst open like paper.

An old soldier with a thick beard was hit by three bullets at the same time, and the fragments of his ruptured lungs mixed with blood mist sprayed onto the faces of the new recruits behind him.

The young man, who had only been in the army for three days, stood frozen in place until he was knocked off the cliff by the falling corpse, at which point he let out a half-scream. The shrill scream startled one of the arquebusiers behind the spearmen, who, in his haste, knocked over his gunpowder canister.

When the gunfire rang out, the swordsmen instinctively rushed forward. These brave warriors, who received double pay in the Bohemian army, had the best equipment and the most tenacious will, and naturally, they were also meant to be in the most dangerous places.

Just like now, when the vanguard was attacked, more than twenty swordsmen and shieldmen rushed forward without hesitation to buy time for the pikemen and musketeers behind them.

Thus, a storm of lead bullets from the second rank swept through the ranks of swordsmen and shieldmen.

A burly man charging forward with a shield was hit by five bullets simultaneously; the cracking sound of his chainmail buckles breaking even drowned out the gunshots.

He staggered and crashed into the rock wall, his iron shield sparking as it scraped against the stone. Bloody handprints followed his sliding body, leaving a five-meter-long scarlet trail.

The crossbowmen in the back row had just raised their heavy crossbows when a stray bullet pierced through the gaps in their shields, sending their skulls flying. Their brains flew in an arc through the air before landing precisely in the gaping mouth of one of the spearmen.

By the time the third row of players opened fire, the formation of the more than one hundred Bohemians had already become loose and chaotic under the onslaught of the storm.

The vanguard was targeted by several players because his gilded blue breastplate and helmet were too conspicuous. His blue helmet flew off, and amidst the flying skull fragments, the gold epaulets inlaid with the family crest were also hit by bullets and sent flying into the air.

The flag bearer at the rear had his face smeared with red and white liquid. When he subconsciously waved the giant dragon flag to give an order, he accidentally rolled the brain-splattered flag around his neck.

The entire Bohemian vanguard was completely stunned.

The newly recruited spearman, who had been in the army for less than a year, dropped his spear and turned to run away, only to be cut down by the scimitars of the supervising officers.

The three arquebusiers, driven to madness, screamed and pulled the triggers, forgetting that the matchlock hadn't been lit. One of the swordsmen, who had been feigning death, suddenly leaped up from the pile of corpses, trying to turn and run away, but slipped on the frozen pool of blood and slid into the abyss, leaving ten bloody finger marks on the rock wall in his futile scratching.

To make matters worse, other players who were sprinting through the forest also emerged from the forest on the left at this moment, charging into the ranks of the Bohemian vanguard with bayonets in hand, giving the latter no chance to reorganize their formation.

The other half remained in the woods, firing freely and taking advantage of their elevated position to deliver precise shots onto the chaotic battlefield.

Seeing this, Xiao Dao could only regretfully raise his hand, ordering the players behind him to cease fire and stop rushing forward... This mountain road was not wide.

Even including the mountains and forests on the left, the battlefield is still not wide enough. The two or three hundred people in front are already fighting each other and the battlefield is already packed. If people go up later, there is a risk of friendly fire or pushing their own people off the cliff.

He's good at fighting, but that doesn't mean he's brainless. He knows better than anyone when to attack and when to play it safe.

Three minutes later, the remaining Bohemians could not hold on any longer. Their dragon banner fell because of the death of their banner officer, and the Bohemian defeat was inevitable.

They turned and ran, with the players close behind, giving chase.

Xiao Dao saw that the area ahead had cleared up before leading his men forward, shouting to the players still in the woods as he went.

"Go over there, cross the woods, go through the woods, and check the other side. There are definitely more Bohemians behind the mountain path. I'm giving you the freedom to move around freely. Harass them and buy some time..."

"okay."

"no problem."

In response to the shouts, the hundred or so players complied with Xiao Dao's request and quickly disappeared into the frost-covered forest.

Xiao Dao continued walking forward.

Victory is never without cost.

In the chaotic battle where the enemy had already collapsed, a player who charged too far ahead was slashed in the thigh by a swordsman and shieldman in a desperate counterattack, and blood instantly soaked through his cotton pants.

He staggered backward, but tripped over the corpse and almost slipped off the cliff. Luckily, his companion grabbed his belt.

"Damn it! My leg..."

He howled, baring his teeth, but still didn't forget to stuff gunpowder into the flintlock musket.

On the other side of the forest, three players were frantically tending to a seriously wounded man who had fallen into a ravine after stepping on snow-covered branches in his attempt to gain a shooting position, breaking his ribs.

"Stop howling! Where's the bandage? Who brought styptic powder?"

"You didn't bring a first-aid kit?"

"It got lost last night. I must have forgotten to take it when I hung it on the tree while I was sleeping."

"This is way too much like scrambled eggs..."

Xiao Dao made a quick round, leaving about twenty people to take care of the wounded and clean up the battlefield. Then he led his men forward, past the bend in the mountain path, and over the mountain.

After reaching the other side of the mountain path, Xiao Dao saw the enemy and his own forces still chasing and fleeing, but they weren't the focus. The focus was on the flags that were faintly visible from the mountaintops below the winding mountain path, which told him something.

The enemy's main force is right below.

"Good heavens, messenger, quickly log off and tell the brothers up ahead to stop chasing, come back and regroup, prepare for battle! The enemy's main force is down below!"

Xiao Dao shouted, and the messenger didn't hesitate. He immediately lay down on the ground, and soon the players chasing ahead stopped and slowly, dawdlingly, walked back.

Xiao Dao didn't mind. Their return was already a great favor, and he didn't dare to think too much about the matter of obeying orders.

While three or four hundred people gathered on the mountain path to reorganize their formation and check their equipment, the players who had crossed the ridge scattered into the pine forest like a group of ghosts.

They trudged through the snow-covered branches, their boots strapped with non-slip straw ropes, quickly traversing the shadows of the forest, their rustling footsteps startling a flock of birds into flight.

The player with the ID "Old Cat" was the first to reach the edge of the cliff. Three hundred meters below, on the mountain path, the main Bohemian force crawled like a swarm of black ants.

They seemed to already know what had happened to the vanguard, and the column was spreading out to both sides.

"Wow, there are at least a thousand people, probably more."

The old cat spat out the pine needles from his mouth, rested his flintlock pistol on a protruding tree root, and aimed at the gilded carriage in the center of the procession, its peacock flag fluttering in the cold wind.

"Brothers, see that carriage in the middle of the column? Attack the officer first!"

His words were echoed by the other players, and after the countdown ended, more than twenty flintlock muskets simultaneously spewed fire.

The lead bullet pierced through the frost and needles, precisely striking the ranks of the Bohemian officers.

A blue-cloaked commander who was reprimanding his supply troops suddenly froze... Sparks flew from his silver shoulder armor, and it was as if hail was falling around him, splashing up large swaths of snow.

He was startled and instinctively took two steps back, bumping his back into a soldier who couldn't avoid him. The two rolled to the ground together, which ironically saved the officer from the second wave of concentrated fire.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

The Bohemians were thrown into chaos. The heavily armored knights tried to raise their shields to protect the noble carriage, but they were trapped in the narrow mountain road. The three warhorses were startled and reared up, dragging the carriage violently against the rock wall. A woman's scream came from inside the carriage.

"Hold the horse! Hold the horse!"

The players' excited roars echoed through the forest.

A player perched on a tree branch held his breath, his flintlock rifle sights locked onto the lead packhorse of the supply train.

The moment the gun fired, blood burst from the left eye of the chestnut horse. It reared up with a neigh, and the gunpowder barrel tied to its back crashed to the ground.

With a cracking sound, large swathes of gunpowder were scattered on the ground, forming a black carpet.

However, the players' success was only temporary. They fired at the Bohemian army from a distance of tens to three hundred meters, but their advantage of surprise was not enough to inflict a heavy blow on the Bohemians.

When the Bohemian officer realized what was happening, roared, brandished his weapon, and led the charge into the coniferous forest, the players who had been hiding inside and taking sniper shots were forced to retreat.

(End of this chapter)