Chapter 560 – Collapse 2

Chapter 560 – Collapse 2
The militia continued to move forward, their faces wore expressions of hesitation and skepticism, but the steps under their feet remained neat and firm – resolutely carrying out orders was an important part of the militia’s military training.

On Schroeder’s side, twenty Aldar soldiers armed with new-style firearms stepped out from the ranks and stood at the forefront.

“Aim!” At the command of the chief of staff, these twenty soldiers raised the firearms in their hands, and if someone came up to the muzzle and looked carefully into the barrel, they would have noticed that there were circles of spiral patterns in their barrels.

To Bourgain, the situation across the street looked strange.

Shouldn’t it be reasonable to have all the cross-groups raise their guns to meet the enemy at once?
Why were only twenty men ready?

Then he immediately realized something even more bizarre.

The flintlock rifles that were commonly equipped nowadays, because of the reason that their accuracy was too low, were often fired in unison – the soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder in tight rows, all pointing their rifles right in front of them, and firing in unison when they heard the command. In this way, although the accuracy of a single shot is low, the overall hit rate is objective. Because the bullet trajectory, even if it drifted badly, would not make a 90-degree turn, there was a high probability that it would hit one of the unlucky bastards in the opposite team – after all, the enemy also had to be lined up in a horizontal line or a square formation, and the casualties inflicted on the other side by collective firing would be even greater.

So shooting at a distance from the enemy did not require the soldiers to deliberately aim at a particular target.

However, in the eyes of the current Bourgain, the twenty soldiers in front of Schroeder’s line, their guns – surprisingly – were all pointing at themselves.

What was going on, were they going to take out themselves, the commander, first? Could they hit him?
An unsettling foreboding enveloped Bourgain’s entire body, causing his sweaty hairs to stand up one by one.

But what could he do now?

Hide behind his men in plain sight? Joke.

Bourgogne bit down on his pressure root and held on to his case head and chest as he rode on his horse and continued to accompany the militia cross party.

“Haha!” Lt. Col. Claude, the commander of the 9th Infantry Battalion, grinned and said happily to Chief of Staff Schroeder, “He’s looking for death.”

Seeing that Bourgain was within effective range, the old knight yelled, “Fire!”

At the command, twenty flintlock rifles with engraved rifling opened fire in unison, and the bullets whirled and darted toward their targets.

As the head of the Training Division, Bourgain was the one who often touched the guns, teaching the soldiers to shoot and supervising their training, and he himself also honed his shooting skills from time to time. Every time he touched the cold gun body and bullets, he lamented that this magical creation from the hands of Paul Gleiman, ruthless and cold, powerful, unstoppable and deadly in one blow, was truly the perfect weapon to take a person’s life. What swords, what bows and crossbows, in front of this kind of weapon all pale in comparison.

And Burgam had more than once imagined in his mind what it would be like to be hit by such a terrible weapon. He had seen the wounds of the enemies who had been hit on the battlefield, and the sight was undoubtedly horrifying, and he had also asked those who had been wounded how they felt, but the words of others could not replace the feeling of personal experience.

What would it be like to be hit by a musket?
Now Bourgogne knew, in just a split second’s time he had been shot through the flesh by at least ten deformed lead bullets, and one had even gone straight through his shoulder blade.

Was it painful? Bourgain did not know, because in a split second was hit in the fatal part, perhaps the brain has been too late to perceive, the only feeling he had was that his life was rapidly draining away.

It was as if he himself was gradually cut off from everything outside his body by an invisible transparent barrier, firstly, his sense of touch became dull, but he could still see the terrified expressions of the militia members looking at him, and could still hear their panicked cries, gradually even his voice began to blur, and in the end he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, and the fire of his consciousness began to extinguish. Would father, grandfather, the ancestors of the family be proud of me? Alas, perhaps the Valen family will not exist in the future ……

But …… how did Count Greiman escape the attack? How did the Lord’s men learn of the outside world? And where did the Chief of Staff find his army?

The lord’s guards are elite is not true, but can’t help but their own side more people ah, can not be set fire to the forest, in order to isolate the news, several key locations of the signal tower are controlled by themselves, through martial law control of the major thoroughfares of the lake town, and finally, they have been waiting for the garrison of the lake town to run far away and then do it. Every carefully considered and prepared measure had happened by accident.

With these few mysteries, Bourgain’s life completely dissipated.

Bulgan Valen, the militia’s current commander, was dead!

The army, which he had organized just two days ago, had lost its last pincer, and the lingering doubts, the anxiety that he might be a traitor, and the fear of facing the regular army-especially the cannons that emitted an intimidating cold light-finally crushed their spirits.

There was a clatter of voices, the sound of guns being thrown to the ground, and the militiamen hung their heads low, their shoulders slumped, awaiting the verdict of their fate.

Would they be shelled? There was ready artillery on the opposite side, and a number of the men thought so with dead hearts.

Bourgogne had been accompanied by a few of his dead heartthrobs, but their authority was not enough to reorganize the army, and indeed their own will had been broken; the sound of the cannon from the lord’s house had announced that there was no turning back, and they simply threw their hands up in the air.

Schroeder shook the reins and rode his horse forward to a relatively close distance, took the trumpet and shouted, “Listen all militia, Camp Commander Claude will bring you back to the camp in Lakewood Town, you will stay there for the time being, you are not allowed to go out!”

He emphasized the latter part of the phrase “no going out”.

“Later on, someone will find you one by one to talk to you, if you were merely deceived by the traitors during the rebellion, and did not actively do any evil deeds, the lord will deal with you leniently, but if someone has colluded with the traitors long time ago, or took advantage of the chaos to do evil deeds, and the evidence is solid, then they will definitely not be spared!”

As for the words of the chief of staff, most of the militia listened to them as if they had been pardoned, and looked as if they had been rescued from a disaster, while a few of them were still anxious and sweating coldly.

A few of Bulgan’s inner circle were tied up and given a good beating.

Battalion Commander Claude pointed in the direction of Lakewood and said to Schroeder, “My lord, there are people coming from the city.”

Schroeder looked, and sure enough, there were two knights darting this way, raising a long cloud of smoke behind them.

“It seems to be from the inner defense force.”

The extremely eagle-eyed Claude recognized the clothing of the visitors.

(End of chapter)