Capítulo 1541: Chapter 69: Siege (39)_2
But they had no ti to grieve, for the enemy had already arrived.
At the edge of the forest surrounding the two small hills on the western side of the road, the figures of rebel musketeers appeared.
So of these rebel musketeers wore the fringed hunting shirts commonly used by Paratu hunters, lurking sneakily behind trees, blending almost seamlessly with the shadows and shrubs, making them hard to spot.
On the hillside, a United Province musketeer leaned on his matchlock gun, squinting his eyes to estimate the distance to the rebels.
They were still quite far, so he wasn’t in a hurry.
He also didn’t worry about the clothes on the rebels—no matter how well they were hidden, the rebels would still have to step out of the forest and onto the open ground at the bottom of the slope to hit him.
In the end, it still ca down to who had the more accurate shot and who brought more ammunition.
Suddenly, a flash of red light appeared in the shadow at the edge of the woods.
“Bang.”
The gunshot rang out.
The United Province musketeer felt intense pain in his chest and incredulously touched it with his hand, feeling the warm, dark red liquid. He fell backward in a daze, cursing the enemy’s damn luck before his consciousness faded away.
Then, suddenly, gunfire erupted outside the two small hills.
The rebels fired deadly lead bullets from the forest at the United Provinces soldiers on the hill.
After several were caught off guard and killed, the “Twelfth Legion’s” musketeers began to retaliate.
But the enemy was too far and hidden in the woods, so the “Twelfth Legion’s” musketeers could only fire wildly while praying their bullets would hit so unlucky rebel while also hoping the rebels’ lead shots wouldn’t hit them.
After exchanging several rounds, on the small hill, Centurion Richard Wett, responsible for commanding the advancing light infantry, noticed sothing amiss.
Although the rebels’ firing speed was not as fast as his subordinates—of course, Lieutenant Wett had great confidence in his subordinates’ training—the rebels’ shooting was surprisingly accurate.
Almost every few shots, one of his n would fall.
And on the rebels’ side—Lieutenant Wett wasn’t blind—it was clear his own n were firing blindly and hadn’t inflicted any real damage on the rebels.
Richard Wett’s expression turned from sunny to gloomy, and he finally bit his lip, “Retreat!”
—————–
Besides the main position on the eastern side of the road, which had the best terrain, Vansco Alda had deployed troops at the “Bend Gate,” “Ghost Gate,” and two other small hills.
The “Bend Gate” was of utmost importance, entrusted to the strongest Fourth Battalion.
On the two small mounds on the western side of the road and the “Ghost Gate,” he only dispatched so musketeers and a few squads of sword and shield bearers to protect the musketeers.
Because the “small mound” was only slightly lower, in terms of area, it was not smaller than the high ground to the east. Relying on just one or two battalions for defense was like trying to balance a table with a single stick.
Moreover, Alda’s forces were not ample: the first and third battalions were feigning an attack on Maplestone City and had not yet returned; the second battalion was remaining at the Water Gate, Snake Swamp, and Bazenaur, unable to move.
So he had to allocate his forces very carefully.
He didn’t expect a hundred or so musketeers to hold the hills across the road, just to control the two areas temporarily and monitor the enemy’s movents, that would be sufficient.
If they could delay the enemy for a bit longer, that would be even better.
For the sa reasons, he only dispatched one team of musketeers to the “Ghost Gate” position.
He didn’t intend to forsake the favorable terrain and block the enemy at the “Ghost Gate”—after all, he needed to draw the enemy into the “stomach” for a decisive battle; blocking them at the entrance would just make it easier for them to escape.
However, as soon as both sides’ light infantry clashed, sothing seed off.
Alda couldn’t see the rebel movents at the bottom of the distant hillside, but he could clearly see his musketeers ceding the hilltop and retreating awkwardly to the reverse slope.
The musketeers at the “Ghost Gate” also seed to be at a disadvantage.
Centurion Richard Wett rode down the hill on horseback and galloped up to the high ground where Alda was located.
“Bastard!” Alda was furious. Before the centurion could speak, he scolded him directly, “The cavalry is inferior! Are you inferior too?!”
Lieutenant Wett’s face turned red with humiliation, but he stifled his grievance and saluted as he reported, “Reporting to the commander, the rebel musketeers seem to be using… using rifles. Their range is greater than ours, and my n on the slope can only take the hits.”
“Seem?!” Alda hadn’t cooled his anger, “I want to hear ‘seem’?”
The lieutenant dared not speak further.
Alda couldn’t believe the rebels could afford to equip all their musketeers with rifles, but his troops were indeed being suppressed by enemy fire.
“Just musketeers?” Alda asked, his face dark.
“Only observed scattered musketeers,” Wett replied cautiously, “There might be spearn or cavalry in the woods.”
Alda accepted his subordinate’s new formation, ordering sternly, “The ridgeline must not be relinquished! Set up observation posts! Even if you die, you die on the ridgeline.”
“Yes!” Wett straightened up and nodded heavily.
“Get out,” Alda nodded his head.
The lieutenant saluted, then listlessly headed back down the high ground and across the road to the hill.
“Inform Major Anseum,” Alda commanded, tilting his head slightly, “the enemy’s vanguard might attempt to seize the hill in front of us. Have him prepare to attack at my command. If the enemy ascending the hill consists only of infantry, annihilate them; if they are escorted by cavalry, fall back, don’t engage recklessly.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)