People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

The flock of vultures hovered around the edge of the battlefield. They neither dared to get close to the large number of falcons, nor did they want to miss the feast.

"A lot of people will die today."

Ivan looked up at the vultures, and said casually, "Are you afraid, Fulk."

"Yes, I'm afraid, Ivan."

Baron Fulk said frankly that his fingers were trembling as he gripped the lance, thinking that he would be able to take advantage of the chaos on the battlefield to escape.

But it was on the battlefield that Fulk realized his innocence.

On the hillside in front of him, densely packed flags and crosses of various colors all proved to him that there were a large number of crusaders cavalry.

Beside him, heavily armored heavy cavalry and lightly armed cavalry archers are like a black wave that wraps itself layer by layer.

This is a large-scale battle that has not been seen since the battle of Poitiers (Frank and Iberian Arabs at Ranquidoc) in the region of Aquitaine adjacent to the Pyrenees. Fulk's vision of war.

The cavalry invested by both sides may have been close to 3 by visual estimation.

In a war of this scale, he was like a fallen leaf drifting with the tide, and could only be dragged into the ranks of his brothers of the same clan—whether it was life or death, it didn't seem to be a good ending.

Fulk tried to cross himself, but the raised hand paused, then dropped again.

He whispered, "Heavenly Father will not bless me."

"I thought I would find salvation in Jerusalem."

He smiled wryly, regretting why he didn't just die in the battle with the pirates, at least he wouldn't fall into the position of being with the heretics and fighting the brothers of Christ.

Ivan patted Fulk on the shoulder: "Don't be afraid, you just need to charge with me."

"Listen to me, boys!"

Ivan galloped to his team: "I know that many of you harbor dissatisfaction in your hearts, but it should stop here. This is the best time to make meritorious deeds. According to teachings, King Saladin will use this Give us a third of the spoils of war, land, wealth, and office, all before us."

"What you should do now is follow me, your master, and take everything that should belong to us!"

"Not for anyone, but for ourselves!"

"call!"

"call!"

The cavalry under Ivan's command shouted one after another.

"Takidin, you have a good subordinate."

Saladin, who was looking over here from a distance, looked at this scene with a smile.

Tajidin smiled bitterly and said, "Yes, he is very good, but because of the rumor of 'man-eating beasts', he has not been very happy with me recently."

"Rumors are just rumors after all."

Saladin shook his head.

Victory suppresses all problems.

On the opposite side, the camp gate and wall of the Crusaders were already burning with raging flames, and the billowing smoke obscured Saladin's sight, which prevented him from noticing immediately that the tyrannical dragon group he relied on had been killed and injured. up.

The infantry will fight, and one's own side has lost the wind.

The balance of war has begun to tip.

...

Take!
A sharp arrow pierced the eyeball of a tyrannical dragon, making this beast, which had a big hole in its stomach pierced by a ballista, so fierce that it started a rampage regardless of the driver's orders on the dragon saddle.

The assailant was a woodland archer who had been lying in wait for a long time, turned around and ran after releasing the arrow.

These light infantrymen are extremely mobile, and with good training and food, their physique has long since made up for it. Although they are not comparable to the genuine woodland elf archers, the longbows in their hands are still Sara. The nightmare in the eyes of Sen soldiers.

The violent tyrannical dragon rushed wildly regardless of whether it was the enemy or the enemy. After hitting the crusaders in front, it turned its head and rushed towards the army behind it. The rider on the dragon saddle had no choice but to take out a big gun. Pierce the quasi-tyrannosaur's vitals.

Things weren't much better for Torre at the time.

Although he is a dragon-born warrior created by Master Shemail himself, with extraordinary strength, even with the magic-blocking gold weapon, it is difficult to cause too much damage to him, but his opponents are two people.

Even if neither Hans nor Veneto used the most powerful werewolf transformation of a pure-blooded werewolf, they still defeated him steadily.

boom--

Torle was directly knocked out by Veneto hugging his waist.

"You bastards!"

Torle already has some doubts about life. The enemy in front of him has obviously suffered many heavy blows from him, so why not only did he not become weak, but became more and more courageous as he fought?

Could he be the Berserker of Scandinavian legend?
Torle groaned in his heart, but his hands didn't stop at all. Two bone spurs protruded from his elbows, and he stabbed fiercely at Veneto who was hugging his waist.

The sharp bone spurs easily pierced the plate armor Veneto was wearing, but after being severely injured, Veneto's eyes were red, and the strength in his hands seemed to have increased tenfold in an instant. He was actually holding Thorle, He leaned back and "planted" his head to the ground.

Rao is from the blood of the dragon descendant of Toerle, with extraordinary vitality, this blow also broke his neck bone, and his brain was instantly in chaos.

Hans took advantage of the situation to attack, and with half the sword in his hand, he slashed hard at his neck with all his strength.

boom--

The bone is broken and the head falls.

Hans held up Thorle's ferocious dragon head, let the blood flowing from the broken neck stain his helmet and battle robe red, and roared loudly: "The beast raised by Saladin is dead, Christ Warriors, drive the heathen out of our camp!"

Roar!
The Varangian guards clustered around Hans roared one after another. They swung their two-handed axes, like the Viking warriors rushing from the forest and frozen soil in the land of winter, and moved towards the retreating Sasha. The Larsen infantry rushed forward.

The battle ax splits the enemy's shield right in the middle.

The enemies behind stabbed their spears, but they couldn't help the Varangian guards wearing multiple layers of heavy armor.

There were as many as 250 of them. At this time, they acted as an elite frontier, like a sharp knife. They were obviously infantry, but they played the effect of a cavalry charge, tearing the formation of the Saracens forcefully. crack.

The bloody spear pierced through the head of a dire dragon.

Fringila stepped on the head of the dead tyrannosaurus proudly, with a look of contempt on her face: "It's just an enemy of this level, it really makes people lose their spirits."

Coors' voice sounded from her shadow: "Miss, don't delay any longer. Using the blood of these dead, we must set up a large formation as soon as possible. No one knows when the enemy's spellcaster will make a move."

"Okay, got it."

Fringila rolled her eyes impatiently: "My dignified princess of the Tepesh family, why do I always have to do these coolies like Hans?"

...

The coat of arms on Lothar's chest suddenly became hot. He did not connect to the communication, but directly activated the solar eclipse under his crotch, and came in front of the cavalry under his command.

The tall and burly eclipse made Lothar even more heroic and extraordinary.

"Soldiers, knights, monks, and lords—a month ago we might have been plowing the rye, drinking in the tavern, playing cards in the shade, and drowsy in the mill in the afternoon."

"But now, we come to the battlefield to fight against the pagan army that outnumbers us and raises dragons."

The expressions of the nearby hussars moved slightly.

Listening to Lothar's description, they indeed recalled the leisurely life they used to have. Compared with the present, it seems like a century has passed.

"Is there any way out for us?"

“Let the armies of the infidels burn our houses, trample our fields, and slaughter our brothers?”

"Watching the magic dragon fly over the head, leaving scorched earth and devastation all over the place?"

"Or, humble and humiliated, begging for mercy from heretics, being sold into slavery, just to live for a while?"

Lothar's voice became higher and more impassioned: "No, we have no way out."

"The home we live on, our beautiful wives, our lovely children are behind us."

"Today, we fight side by side regardless of high or low. Everyone has only one identity. To protect the kingdom and protect the Holy Land, Christian soldiers."

"Maybe many people will die, but these people are lucky, because when they wake up, they will see a heaven flowing with milk and honey!"

"Those who survived are equally lucky."

"Because history will remember us, bards will praise us, and we will gain supreme glory."

"I believe that when the news of our victory in this war reaches back to those knights, lords, and even kings who have been holding back in Europe, they will all be regretful and ashamed of their inaction."

Lothar's voice paused, and then he let out a somewhat out-of-tune cry at the top of his lungs.

"In the name of God!"

Roar!
The knights clustered around Lothar shouted.

The battlefield is so chaotic, no matter how loud Lothar's voice is, it is impossible to reach everyone's ears, but the voice is like a wave, quickly spreading to every corner of this huge cavalry team.

Jean Na teased in a low voice: "Maybe next time you can ask Flynn to perform a sound amplification technique for you."

"I've got orderlies, and they'll pass on my speech."

Lothar said again: "Jeanna, do you still remember the scene when we fought side by side?"

Jeanna smiled and said, "Of course, I assure you, my Sun King, Joan of Arc will dedicate victory to you again."

"as always?"

"as always."

The two smiled at each other.

Jeanna broke away from the team near Lothar, led a small group of hussars, and ran to the side-she will be responsible for commanding another cavalry, supporting each other with Lothar, and maximizing the role of the cavalry charge.

Lothar looked at Prajna next to her again, her eyes were still clear and flat, giving people a sense of strength that the sky is falling and there is no need to be nervous.

"Prairie."

"Ok?"

"You are so pretty today."

"?"

Regardless of Prajna's puzzled eyes, Losala lowered his helmet mask and raised the cavalry spear in his hand -- it was the cavalry spear Hans used: "Wing cavalry, charge with me!"

"call!"

Accompanied by shouts.

Iron hooves crush the ground.

The wings are flying, and the flags are like forests.

Layers of semaphores were passed on, and the large-scale cavalry began to follow the banners of commanders at all levels, forming several large-scale cavalry formations, and scattered towards the Saracens cavalry.

Go straight to Saladin's middle army.