When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#317 - Coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming

The horses pawed the ground restlessly, fifty Hussars arranged in a triangular formation, chattering on the grass.

Each beastman, clad in leather armor and adorned with feathered pendants, sat upon their saddles, their long riding boots reaching their knees.

They wore no iron armor or helmets, which was inconsistent with the tactical positioning of the Hussars.

But they would wear a beastman-style carved head covering.

This head covering was made of leather, linen, wooden strips, and feathers, then painted.

Viewed from the front, this head covering resembled a monster with a large open mouth, from which the face of the Orc Hussar peered out.

This was a traditional garb of the beastman barbarians, only the most courageous warriors could wear it.

Most of these head coverings featured the images of Kongor and Mengge, but recently, due to the priests' change of heart(改弦更张: change of heart/ policy), some beastmen have begun to use Hogger.

Every time Horn saw that green-faced, fanged face that he could barely recognize as his own, he couldn't help but crack up(红豆泥绷不住: could not help but crack up).

Seeing the Hussars lined up, Horn turned to signal the flag bearer beside him.

Two small flags waved, and Grush immediately received the order.

"Quick march forward!" Grush shouted loudly, raising his saber and then slashing it down.

At the command, the Orc Hussars roared in unison.

Accompanied by the loud neighing of the warhorses, the charge began.

The warhorses' limbs surged with power, dust flew on the grass, and the beastmen on their backs, despite having only trained for a little over a week, were able to sit steadily.

In the billowing cloaks, the fierce wind bypassed their sides, and the horses' tails swung out thousands of strands in the air.

Like a rushing torrent, the Hussars bent their bodies, leaning forward, aiming their sabers at the wooden dummies not far away.

Entwined beast bones, sharp blades, runes engraved and shining in the sunlight.

"Charge! Assault!"

The cavalry in the front, as vanguards, pierced the air at an astonishing speed.

As the distance to the dummies closed, the ground trembled slightly, the grass blades were bent and broken, and the rising dust turned into a misty battle cloud, chasing their horses' rumps forward.

The Hussars turned sideways, and the sabers in their hands swiftly slashed across the wooden dummies.

Wood chips flew, and the Hussars passed by one after another, the targets beside them constantly shaking.

There were also some who accidentally went completely sideways, after all, their training time was only two and a half weeks.

But those Hussars who were almost lying on their horses' backs, as if defying the laws of physics, did not fall off, but miraculously stood on their horses again.

Every time he saw such a scene, Horn couldn't help but sigh, beastmen are beasts.

Their tails swayed from side to side, and the dual balance canals in their human and beast ears gave them far superior balance to humans.

This was one of the reasons Horn recruited beastmen as Hussars.

When they served as scouts, Horn discovered these beastmen's characteristics.

Although their talent in knight breathing techniques was much worse than that of humans, they had extraordinary sensory functions.

Strong balance, clear vision, and ridiculously good hearing.

For riding horses, they seemed to have an innate talent, and they quickly became familiar with the horses.

In just two and a half weeks, their horsemanship was better than some who had trained for two months.

Only one problem troubled Horn and Grush.

"Hey, hey, hey! Where are you running, turn around, turn around, how did I teach you!"

Anxious roars came from his ear, and Grush chased after them frantically with several Holy Light Cavalry.

But Grush's shouting was of no use, the Orc Hussars cheered and charged straight forward, not noticing that there was a small river more than a meter deep ahead.

Horn slowly shook his head, these beastmen were brave, but their IQs were generally problematic.

This wasn't Horn being racist, these beastmen's IQs were generally problematic, probably due toinbreeding.

Horn had once heard a rumor that beastmen were war weapons created by the Elves, so they were born with low intelligence.

But Siloof is a beastman.

Her IQ can't be said to be pure, but at least it can be said to be a genius.

Like the previous Battle of Pavia, even though they were told to retreat, those beastman scouts insisted on staying in front of the battlefield.

Most of them were the type to get carried away with enthusiasm and disregard everything.

Most importantly, they had short memories, and Horn's Rod of Piety didn't have much effect on them.

Not only that, these beastmen stubbornly clung to tradition.

The Northerns beastmen were better, after being influenced by civilization, their traditions were more advanced.

The Southerners beastmen barbarians were different, they had a habit of carving.

They always carved out the heads of the gods they respected and then stuck them on the battle flags.

Thinking of this, Horn twisted his body and looked up, and saw the Hussar battle flag with tassels beside him.

On that battle flag, the heads of Kongor, Mengge, and Hogger embraced back to back, looking in different directions.

Couldn't you guys go and worship Saint Jeanne? Why do you have to fixate on me?

"Your Grace..." Grush, with his trouser legs wet, walked over with an embarrassed smile.

"The training is..." Horn left half of his words in his mouth, not knowing what to say, "Not bad, but still strengthen discipline."

"Your Grace, next time you come, I guarantee I'll get them in order," Grush hurried to defend himself in order to get a reduced sentence.

"It's okay, you're busy with your work, I won't disturb you, I'm leaving," Horn said.

Saying goodbye to Grush and the Hussar training camp, Horn headed towards Jeanne Fortress under the protection of the military police and Holy Light Cavalry.

His body rising and falling with the warhorse, Horn was still thinking about the problems of these Hussars.

The purpose of his setting up these Hussars was to solve the shortcomings of the Savior Army in pursuing enemy troops.

Previously, although the Holy Light Cavalry annihilated the Edict Company, they still let many transcendent knights escape, failing to eliminate too much vital force.

The role of the Hussars is to pursue and harass, attack supply convoys before the battle, harass and entangle the flank cavalry during the battle, and pursue and kill retreating enemy troops after the battle.

Next, Horn will definitely have to fight the Ibe Knights of Gold River Township.

Unlike the Cush Territory, which is full of hills, ponds, and forests, Gold River Township is a vast plain, and the terrain disadvantage of the infantry is quite obvious.

If they send out light cavalry to harass before the battle and hinder pursuit after the battle, and wait for the scattered cavalry to gather again, then it will be an endless battle.

When will these beastmen be reliable?

With thousands of thoughts in his mind, Horn slowed down his horse and walked through the middle of the street, stopping at the entrance of the City Hall.

Handing the reins to the handyman, Horn looked at the City Hall in front of him, those complicated and dazzling Gothic patterns were removed and replaced with simple gear patterns with metallic luster.

Tucking his leather gloves into the sash around his waist, Horn walked towards the entrance of the City Hall.

The originally damaged ground was patched and glued together with mortar and stone slabs, so that even wooden hard wheels would not have too much bouncing when driving over it.

On the stone pillars at the entrance of the City Hall, the statues of the two generations of Cush Dukes were removed and replaced by two sphinxes.

Walking with light steps, Horn walked past the two statues, but then, his steps suddenly slowed down.

Turning around, he quickly stepped forward, walked around to the sphinx statue, looked at it for a few seconds, and his whole body stiffened.

"Your Grace, what's wrong?" Armand, who was originally standing at the door to greet him, curiously leaned over.

"What is this?" Horn turned his head and asked, pointing at the statue.

Armand went around Horn's shoulder and took a look: "A sphinx... Hey, wait, why is this your face, and with two fangs attached?!"

This is not a sphinx at all, this is clearly a Hogger-sphinx!

"What's going on?" Seeing the decoration craftsman passing by, Armand jumped over and grabbed him.

The craftsman looked at Horn's darkened face, realized that something bad was happening, and answered timidly: "I, I thought you liked it this way..."

"Who told you?"

"C, Chris Papa."

Horn's eyes went black, he squeezed out a smile: "Okay, it's nothing, you can go."

"Okay, good luck," the craftsman fled as if he had survived a disaster.

Horn then whispered: "Quickly find that old bastard Patrick..."

"No need to find me, I'm here myself." In a burst of rapid footsteps, Patrick appeared in front of Horn with heavy steps.

"You..."

"If you want to take revenge, we'll talk about it later, I have important military information." Before Horn could finish speaking, Patrick interrupted Horn seriously.

"What?"

"We have received news that a large force has appeared on the outer periphery of the border, most likely the Ibe Knights of Gold River Township!"

Patrick took a deep breath: "The war has begun."