Chapter 643: Battle of Sharon 25



Chapter 643: Battle of Chalons 25

"The Gothic King has fallen! The Gothic King has fallen!"

After a noisy sound of horse hooves, the Gothic cavalry who had trampled past turned around and saw only a bloody corpse lying on the ground. Their facial expressions were rich, but most of them were surprise and fear.

They even forgot the deadly arrows that were flying overhead from time to time, for they actually knocked their king down and trampled him to death.

Death is like a surprise gift, which often catches the recipient off guard, and the recipient may not even leave a single word in his or her final moments.

The soldiers recognized their king Theodoric from his armor and helmet stained with dust and blood. What else could they say? In addition to fear and regret, they were more at a loss, like a body without a head, not knowing what to do.

"Their king is dead! Their king is dead!"

The same news reached the Huns. When the Hun cavalry received the news, they cheered loudly. The victory after victory was indeed the blessing of God and the wise and decisive leadership of the Hun King Attila.

"Attack! Attack!"

The Hun cavalry roared, put away their composite bows, raised their lances, and kicked their horses' bellies, rushing towards the chaotic Visgoth cavalry.

"The Huns are coming! The Huns are coming!"

The leaderless Gothic cavalry were terrified when they saw the Hun cavalry rushing towards them.

They had no leader. No one, not even the generals or the officers, could lead the entire army. They screamed, turned their horses around and ran as fast as they could.

Just like the retreat of the Alans in the first battle, the retreat of the Visgothic cavalry was even more spectacular. They had not even touched the enemy they were attacking with their horses and lances.

Just like the migrating buffalo herds in Africa, the dust raised by tens of thousands of horses running covered the sky. It was such a magnificent display that they did not attack but instead fled in disgrace. It was really a shame, but mixed with it was more of a helplessness.

Fortunately, the infantry had not yet received the news of the king's death. They were still hoping that their cavalry would be able to crush the entire Hun infantry from the front and back and then lead them to win the final victory of the war and plunder the fruits of victory.

The Hun cavalry commanded by Attila did not continue the pursuit after a while. They turned their horses' heads, raised their lances, roared, and relied on their heavy horse armor to crash into the left side of the Visigoth army.

Countless soldiers were knocked away by the huge impact force, and more soldiers were submerged in the "tide" before they could react, and died under the trampling of the horses.

"Defense! Defense!"

The Visigoths, who had lost their left front in an instant, had to shrink their front. The sudden attack of the Hun cavalry at this time boosted the morale of the retreating Hun infantry. They roared and launched a counterattack towards the blind and helpless Visigoths, which dealt another heavy blow to the Visigoths' confidence that was beginning to waver.

"Where is our King? Where is our King?"

The Visigoths were in chaos. It was hard to imagine that this was an army of tens of thousands. They were suddenly huddled together, and the originally neat formation became chaotic. Everyone was calling out Theoderic's name, but they didn't know that he had already died on the battlefield.

"What's going on? Our army, how could this happen? How could this happen?"

Thorismon, the son of Theoderic, who was on the high ground in the rear, had a panoramic view of the battlefield in front of him. He saw Attila leading their army to sweep everything away, and saw the Visigoths retreating step by step. Everything was in a state of decline.

But he saw the cavalry that Theoderic was proud of fleeing back for their lives, and he could still vividly remember the performance of the Alani cavalry when Diego fell.

Torismon had a very ominous premonition in his heart, but he didn't dare to say it, for fear that what he feared would really come true! "Go, stop them, stop them!"

Torismon called out to the cavalrymen behind him, and without caring about anything else, he jumped on his horse and galloped towards the heights.

"Caesar! Caesar!"

In the Roman army, only Marenius was seen galloping in front of Luca. He looked panicked and pointed to the Visigothic army on the right and said to Luca: "Attila defeated the Goths. The Goths are in disarray!"

"Damn it!" This news was like a bolt from the blue. Luca was so angry that he clenched his fists and pounded on the railing of the chariot. "What's wrong with this Theodoric? Is there nothing he can do about Attila's slaves?"

Luca realized that cursing would not solve the actual problem at hand, so he turned around and asked Marenius: "Aetius, where is Aetius?"

"Caesar, Aetius is in the middle. He just stabilized the situation in the middle."

"It's almost too late, it's almost too late!" Luca clearly understood what the collapse of the Goths on the right meant. As long as the other half of the Hun army was free, the two armies of Luca and Aetius would be caught in a pincer attack, and failure would be inevitable.

As a king, Augustus Flavius ​​Luca would naturally not let such a thing happen. He had to stand up and do something.

Luga lowered his head and looked at the spear of Longnukis in his hand. The brass tip of the spear reflected his eyes, which were red because of the war.

"I must turn the tide, even if it means risking my life!" Luca whispered to himself, then turned around and said to Marenius: "Marenius, my friend, if anything unexpected happens to me, you must work closely with Andrew and command the army to continue the attack. Even if we both suffer losses, we must not let the soldiers be defeated!"

"Caesar?"

Marenius didn't understand why Luca said such a thing.

"The failure of a war is often caused by the commander losing the courage to persevere in the face of difficulties. A commander can be cowardly in the barracks and tremble in the rear, but on the battlefield, he must show a stronger courage than his soldiers! Lead the soldiers to defeat the enemy and ultimately win everything!"

Luca shouted loudly, jumped off the chariot and rode on the warhorse beside him. He carried the Spear of Longinus, turned around and shouted at the Roman cavalry on standby: "Who is willing to follow me into battle and kill the enemy!"

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"Fight for Rome!!!"

The cavalrymen roared and raised their lances high to show their loyalty to Luca! "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"

In the center of the Roman army, the cavalry leading the way kept hitting the heads of the soldiers blocking the way with wooden sticks, yelling at them to step aside. Only the armored war horses and the heavily armored cavalry armed to the teeth slowly advanced forward.

The infantrymen turned around and fell silent as they saw Augustus's helmet decorated with white feathers and red horse bridles and the Spear of Longinus gleaming in the sun.

"Caesar, Caesar!"

The soldiers looked at Luga's horse passing by them. They called out Luga's name, knelt down on the ground and saluted him.

"Go ahead! Go ahead!"

Odoric commanded his troops to attack the shields of the Roman soldiers again and again, but each time they were stabbed back by the Roman spears.

"Come on, fight, you cowards!"

Odoric roared and slapped the shield in his hand, mocking the Roman soldiers who could only hide behind the shield to avoid the sharp edge.

At this moment he felt a rumbling sound and he stopped roaring. Not only him, but other barbarian soldiers also stopped roaring. They pricked up their ears and listened to the rumbling sound in front of them.

“Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!”

All that could be heard was the Romans beating their shields and roaring loudly. Why, why were they suddenly so powerful?

The barbarian soldiers who were unaware of the situation only saw the silver torrent surging out. They roared, like an extremely sharp spear that could pierce everything thrown from the hands of a god. The silver war horses and the silver knights roared and rushed into the barbarian army, instantly dispersing layer after layer of barbarian soldiers.

"What, what is that!"

The barbarians stopped roaring, and instead screamed and asked questions. They only saw the cavalry rushing out from nowhere, killing everything in their way and being unstoppable.

(End of this chapter)


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