There is no need for new orders. Grund and the others only have one order - kill.
These heavily armored warriors are strong and tall, standing on the battlefield like a pagoda.
They often wield two-handed battle axes that can thrust and chop down the enemies in front of them like wood.
A thrust will bring blood to the spearhead; a slash will break bones.
Even just a side attack can stun the enemy.
These blond Nordic strong men lived up to Rurik's high expectations, and keeping them as a tactical reserve team was actually the most correct choice.
Not only Grund's group, but also the more than 300 warriors who joined the battle behind them all used round shields to form a shield wall, which was indeed like a "wedge driven into a wooden block."
They invaded with force and successfully completed the laziness of the Flanders Army. As a result, an encirclement circle was immediately formed. Count Baudouin, who was blocked in the circle, just wanted to break out. Facing a group of iron men, he could only
Can helplessly continue to resist.
As for the reinforcements that were blocked outside?
No! There are no reinforcements at all.
The morale of the Duke's army has collapsed! As long as the troops were driven outside the circle, they completely abandoned their front, and the fief knights refused to fulfill their allegiance.
Many people have died, and they have persisted until now despite considerable casualties. They have done their best based on the special buff of the Bishop's Blessing.
However, the enemy is the devil!
No one could break the Norman line, it was now a one-sided killing by the opponent.
The Boguo army was beaten to the point where they lost their armor. In order to escape quickly, the peasant soldiers threw away their weapons, rolled around on the muddy battlefield with their bare hands, and fled towards the south.
The fief knights also fled in a hurry, heading straight for the horses placed in the rear, intending to seize them and escape.
As for rescuing the besieged Earl, there are indeed lower-level knights who insist on morality and insist on rescuing him.
The offensive was ruthlessly interrupted by the Ross army. Those soldiers with bear heads were monsters. Now the monsters began to counterattack.
The few warriors carrying crossbows are really stupid in their decision-making.
Since killing enemies is a blood sacrifice to Odin, sniping with a crossbow is also a good way to achieve meritorious service. There are many enemies and they can escape quickly. This is like hunting a herd of wild deer. Don't think about carrying an ax to chop off the deer's head yourself.
, It is still more satisfying to shoot arrows from a long distance.
Tension, winding, aiming, shooting, all in one movement, an enemy was hit by an arrow in the back and fell to the ground...
Their pursuit was unresolved, and the battlefield evolved into more than a hundred people chasing nearly two thousand people.
If a group of Russian cavalry suddenly appeared and trampled, chopped, and stabbed mercilessly, the enemy would suffer a devastating blow.
However, the enemy ran faster than the snow fox, and his skillful appearance made the brave Ross warriors despise him.
In the distance, the priest carrying the cross saw clearly the entire battle.
The young priest's legs were shaking, and Bishop Paul Feder fainted several times.
The bishop finally woke up, and now he saw broken troops everywhere in a panic. They were fleeing in the direction of Ghent.
In an instant, the bishop cheered up. He opened his old arms and shouted to the fleeing people: "Where is the count?! Don't flee! Drive out the barbarians for the sake of faith! What you do is a betrayal of faith."
However, the knights on horseback did not give the bishop any face. The fast horse passed by and splashed a lot of mud, but it helped the bishop himself wash his face.
Suffering this humiliation, the bishop did not care about his dignity. In a panic, he continued to curse at the back of the fleeing man, and even threatened to deprive him of his religious membership.
However, the young priest came over and asked shiveringly: "Pada... should we evacuate. Those barbarians..."
Just look at the current situation and you will know that running is the best.
But he saw Bishop Paul Feder suddenly possessed by an angel. He grabbed the sterling silver cross on his chest with his trembling right hand, kissed it hard, and then took the huge cross carried by the little priest. "You all go! God and
I am with you and I will convince these barbarians to stop killing and convert to the right path."
The priests feel that their teacher has gone crazy. No matter how devout their faith is, can those blood-stained barbarians listen to a word now?
The unmoved young priests were reprimanded again, and they reluctantly abandoned the bishop and fled in a hurry.
If the count dies, everything is over. At least the army that the count put in a lot of effort to assemble was defeated today. After asking himself, the bishop felt that he had to bear a lot of responsibility for the defeat.
He felt that he had no face to return to the monastery in Ghent, so he simply faced the barbarians in the posture of a martyr, carrying the sacred cross. He also muttered: "If I had known this, I should have stayed in Ghent. God, it was me who instigated it."
They fought, and I was the sinner."
Among all the people who fled in a hurry, he was the only one who walked in the opposite direction, preaching like a preacher to the Russian soldiers who were constantly pursuing and whose shields were stained with blood.
Although no one listened to the old man's nonsense, this man's bold move actually shocked everyone.
"What is this monk doing? Is he really not afraid of death?"
"Don't kill him. The king has an order, and there will be a reward for catching the monk. This guy came in person, and we happened to kidnap him and present him to the king."
As a result, the cross carried by the bishop was trampled on by soldiers wearing armor and bear heads. His hands and feet were tied up with ropes, and he was carried by the soldiers like a hunted deer and walked towards the fleet.
At this time, the battle in the encirclement was already at the end of garbage time.
Count Baudouin was protected by his cronies, but there were not many soldiers left in the circle.
The battle between those without armor and those with heavy armor is completely one-sided.
The shield wall of the Ross-Danish coalition was almost indestructible. Swords and spearheads were constantly protruding from the gaps, and even long-handled halberds were pecked from the sky, leaving the soldiers in the circle to passively take beatings.
The encirclement was shrinking rapidly, and at this moment Rurik did not know that the count himself was not only participating in the battle, but also within the encirclement.
What he issued was an order to kill without mercy, unless the real nobles and priests were caught.
The closer we get to the end, the more stubbornly the enemies in the circle will resist.
Baudoin personally drew his sword and continued to fight, frequently encouraging his cronies with words to persist until the end for the honor of their faith.
They also fully believed that there was no possibility of surrender at this time, and those Normans would only sacrifice the prisoners of war as sacrifices to the barbarian gods, and they would die an extremely humiliating death.
There were still more than fifty people resisting in their circle. They spontaneously formed a circular formation with tower shields stacked on top of each other. This formation indeed made it difficult for the Russian army to deploy the array.
The Russian-Danish coalition was also a little tired from the fight. There were bleeding corpses at the feet of both sides. The black mud was also dyed dark red. Not only was there a muddy smell in the air, but there was also this weird smell of rust.
Like a hunted wild boar suddenly thrown to the feet of a group of soldiers, Rurik took a good look at his bear-headed warriors and asked loudly: "You went to chase the defeated soldiers, why did you suddenly come back? This prey is a
monk?"
The first, a young and strong warrior, beat his chest with his right hand and saluted, "He must be a senior priest. He is walking towards us holding a cross. Maybe he wants to say something to you."
"Really? If you are really a senior priest, you have done a great job."
Rurik kicked the old man who was tied tightly. He seemed to be pretending to be dead, or was in a state of being slaughtered.
"Fool. I don't want to kill you." The words were spoken in Latin, and these words immediately made the local bishop Paul Fede become angry.
Like a carp struggling, the old guy kept twisting his body and yelling. It wasn't until the soldiers held him down firmly that his yelling became clear.
Rurik was overjoyed and immediately lowered his head and asked in detail.
"I didn't expect you to be the Bishop of Ghent. Please tell me your specific identities and who this army is."
In this way, the bishop explained the matter bluntly: "Baudouin, Count of Flanders, led a large army to attack you. He is either dead or still fighting."
"The count is actually among the rebels?" Rurik's expression suddenly changed, and then he laughed excitedly.
He did not expect to capture Baudouin alive, but he could definitely identify the deceased as the Count himself from the unusually dressed corpse.
"I also thought that I should attack Ghent directly and force it to recognize my arrangement in the Netherlands. If he is dead, I don't have to negotiate." Rurik said to himself and thought for a moment.
He felt that there was no need to negotiate with Baudouin on anything. In this era where the fist is king, although war is a continuation of politics, all forces believe that war is a shortcut to solving problems, and Rurik is not immune to this.
The bishop did not curse, but begged in Latin for an end to the killings.
"Are you worthy of negotiating terms with us?" Rurik glared with disdain, and immediately frightened the bishop into shutting up.
"Indeed, I will not kill you. Your northern saint Esquier is fine in Saxony, and I am friends with that old guy. Since you are the bishop of Ghent and are useful to me, I will take you to the north...
"
Rurik said something, and the amount of information was so huge that the bishop was confused. What shocked him even more was that a blond Norman leader actually spoke fluent Latin, which was unimaginable.
"Pull him down and don't torture him."
After giving the order, Rurik decided to end the final battle in a short time.
He already knew that the last enemy had formed a formation. Since the opponent was a relatively elite warrior, the Ross army might cause unnecessary casualties by attacking forcefully. He temporarily ordered the entire army to maintain a confrontation. It didn't matter that the enemy would take the opportunity to take a breather, and that his own side would take a rest.
OK.
Some soldiers withdrew and took on special missions.
Thirty-seat torsion slingshots were fired once from the front and quickly pushed to the rear, and were not used thereafter.
They were put to use again, and now each slide was equipped with a cast-iron bullet. After charging, the soldiers pushed them towards the outside of the encirclement.
The soldiers were ordered to clear a wide path, and Rurik and Ragnar stood in front of the formation with solid and terrifying steps.
One special man became a crucial sounding board.
Henry Nassau, because he was good at speaking Frank, now was the time for him to make a procedural speech to persuade the people to surrender.
With the King of Rus and the King of Denmark by his side, Henry Nassau was very confident at this moment.
"Soldiers of Flanders! You have no chance! Standing in front of you are the King of Denmark and the King of Ross. They are very brave Norman kings. They promise to protect your lives as long as you lay down your weapons."
It was actually in Frankish language. Hearing this, Baudouin became even more angry. He yelled: "Which Frankish nobleman betrayed his faith and betrayed your king? He actually surrendered to the Norman pirates! I am Count Baudouin of Flanders!"
I would rather die in battle than surrender to the barbarians."
It was Count Baudouin himself?!
Henry Nassau realized the crisis and hurriedly informed Rurik after interpreting this important event.
"Baudouin... a proud count?"
"Maybe he is arrogant, we should capture him. Even if he... would rather die than surrender."
"No." Rurik shook his head, "He sought his own death."
As a result, those torsion slingshots were placed in front of the formation, and the Russian troops, who were afraid of being accidentally injured, opened up the encirclement.
The last Flanders soldier holding the shield realized that the situation was not good, but unfortunately there was no way to retreat.
Rurik's eyes were bloodshot. He took off his helmet in the hope that Count Baudouin could take a good look at his face before he was killed.
A strong man stood here, his golden ponytail was wet and obvious in the light rain, and his neatly trimmed beard was dripping with water.
"shooting!"
With an order, the execution began.
The projectiles smashed into the soldiers' shields at close range, the Flemish soldiers were penetrated through their bodies, and the once strong shield wall was riddled with holes.
But these elite followers built a wall with flesh and blood for their beliefs, making it easy for Baudouin to deliver a fatal blow to the crotch.
At this point, there were only a few living people. When Baudoin looked around, he was surrounded by Normans' eager eyes and corpses lying on the ground.
"It's strange that someone didn't die." Ragna muttered disdainfully.
"Don't worry. Next is the crossbow shooting, and the final enemy will definitely die."
It was at this time that Henry Nassau saw someone among his last enemies who was well-dressed, something even mud could not hide.
"Count? Is the count here? If you are still alive, this is your last chance." Nassau asked loudly.
Now, Baudouin saw his followers dying tragically in front of him. Their bodies were smashed with flesh and blood by the projectiles fired by strange weapons. The death of each of them was extremely miserable.
He didn't want to surrender, but the trembling of his body could no longer be stopped by his mind.
He was frightened, his teeth were chattering, his rough face was convulsing, and the hand holding the sword was like Parkinson's disease.
He was unable to respond and couldn't even open his mouth to curse.
Henry Nassau, who felt more and more strange, hurriedly blocked Rurik's arrow array when he had already set it up.
"King of Rus, that's enough. There is probably a great nobleman hiding there. Why do you need to kill him now? You only need to send a few people to capture them all alive."
"Get out of the way." Rurik pushed him directly, still wanting to give death to these enemies who begged for mercy.
Unexpectedly, Nassau said something like this: "At least I have to find the great nobleman of the County of Flanders and ask him to admit that the Netherlands, including Utrecht and Groningen, belongs to my County. Otherwise, they will definitely
There will be frequent harassment, which is not good for you. Their great nobles may be there."
"Is that so? That's fine."
Rurik finally terminated the execution, which frustrated the soldiers who had planned to watch the show.
A group of soldiers walked away aggressively, and immediately disarmed several enemies who were busy trembling, and escorted them directly to Rurik.
Nassau continued to question the escorted people: "Now we can talk properly. Which one of you is the big noble, is it you?"
He asked directly at an old guy who was the most well-dressed, and then took off his iron helmet with his own hands, revealing his true appearance.
A ferocious middle-aged man with bared teeth showed a depressed and discouraged face.
"Let me die! Kill me quickly."
"Who are you? A count?" Nassau continued to ask.
But he saw the man spat violently, and Rurik was so angry that he kicked him directly. This kick directly hit his knee, causing him to hug his leg and roll on the ground in pain.
Finally, the well-dressed man reluctantly sat down on the mud and cursed viciously: "I! I am Count Baudouin of Flanders! You are shameless invading robbers! And you, the Franks who betrayed your faith. God will punish you."
For your sins, the storm will destroy your fleet, and the thunder will kill you. You will die soon."
There was no doubt that the person was Baudoin, and Rurik nodded.
This guy is so tough-talking and seems to want nothing more than to die.
But Baudouin didn't have to die, even if he was bundled into the cabin of the ship and thrown to Liudov himself when it arrived in Hamburg, it would be another good show.
After all, in the past, Liudov was the Count of Westphalia and Baudoin was the Count of Flanders. Their fiefdoms were completely adjacent, so they must know each other.
Just seeing each other again makes everything change.