Chapter 55 Charge of the Korelian Knights

CRACKKK!!

The sharp crack of a wooden lance shattering battled with the screams of men. Lansius’ senses quickly overwhelmed him as the air was painfully and abruptly punched out from his lungs. His brain, dazed, barely noticed that this was nothing like the exercise.

Lansius’ eyes were yet to open, but his right arm and shoulder instinctively felt the lingering shock of the lance’s impact. When he finally opened his eyes, through the slit in his helmet, chaos was unfolding before him.

The men from South Hill arrayed to Lansius’ left and right, cowering, frantically trying to escape the horror of being trampled.

The destrier’s loud neighing alerted him. Without hesitation, Lansius tightened his lower body, signaling the destrier to continue the charge.

Amid all that chaos, Lansius could barely keep up with the forward element who was doing the heavy lifting. Sir Callahan and Harold, along with the front-line knights, cleared a path and bore the brunt of the enemy’s resistance, facing spears, swords, and thrown stones.

However, despite their successful charge, the enemy formation was simply too large to be routed this easily.

Behind Lansius, the rest of the Korelian Knights charged into the poorly defended South Hill column. The column's first line had buckled, making light of the cavalry’s entry.

As for Lansius, the adrenaline masked the lightness of his right arm. He found himself still clutching the lance, the shaft of which was gone. He dropped it and was about to draw his blade when a spear thrust into his left arm.

Instinct kicked in. Lansius clenched his left arm into his chest, creating multiple layers of steel, just in time as the spear slammed again. It was uncomfortable, and panic-inducing, but nothing more.

Sensing danger, the destrier went into a short gallop and more screams were heard as the beast barreled its way through.

Screams were also heard from behind, as Korelian cavalry followed Lansius’ lead. One of them, Sterling, was desperately closing in on his Lord. Despite being in only half-armor, he was fearless. Sterling even managed to strike down the spearman who had attacked Lansius.

The ground was littered with discarded weapons, shields, and bodies. Suddenly, an open field enveloped Lansius’ view.

His horse snorted in delight while Lansius was dazzled by the sudden change of scenery.

... I actually survive that sht?

The serene grassy plains felt unreal after what he had just witnessed.

A smirk formed on Lansius’ lips - a primal urge after surviving tremendous physical exertion.

The knights in front began to slow down, making a wide turn. Sir Hugo and Callahan formed up on Lansius, followed by Sterling from behind.

“Are you injured, My Lord?” Sir Harold asked after opening his visor. The man barely broke a sweat.

Lansius’ right hand was still clutching the sword since he was too shaky to sheathe it. Using his left hand, he tapped the side of his helmet and found the small latch. It was hard with the gauntlet on, but he managed to open the visor.

Regaining full peripheral vision and the ability to breathe freely was an immense joy. “I’m good,” he declared after swallowing a breath of fresh air.

Then, situational awareness kicked in. “Are we clear for another pass?”

Sir Harold and Callahan looked at the horizon and both noticed that the Coalition’s entire reserve of two-hundred cavalry was bearing down on them. Lansius noticed it too.

“One pass only, My Lord,” Sir Callahan answered.

“How many did we lose?” Lansius asked the knights while glancing at Sterling. The squire nodded in response.

“A few or none,” Sir Harold responded after taking a quick look at their forces, which seemed intact.

“Give the signal, we’re going for another,” Lansius ordered.

Callahan grabbed his silver horn-like apparatus and blew it. Unlike Anci’s loud and clear buccina, Callahan’s was richer and deeper.

Buuu- buuuuu!!

As they reformed, the standard bearer returned to Lansius’ side and proudly hoisted the blue and bronze chevron high.

Once again they trotted into the enemy. Nobody retained their lance, so they were at a disadvantage. But the enemy had it worse.

The South Hills column was demoralized, many were dead or injured. Worse, a large portion was distraught. Now, they noticed that the cavalry had wheeled around toward their rear. The South Hills command rushed their strongest troops to the rear, trying to reform, but it was utter chaos.

The levied element refused to cooperate. Only at the last minute did they manage to reform into thicker ranks, seven or possibly eight men deep, trying to counter the cavalry charge without risking their exposed flanks.

The Korelian Knights did nothing. Sir Callahan didn’t want to lose time or momentum. Like an arrow loosened by the bow, they flew straight.

Lansius drew a deep breath and latched back his visor. The sound of his breath echoing inside the helmet was triggering something.

Is this PTSD..?

Tens of hours of full armor combat against Audrey had made him into either a fighter or a patient eligible for disability benefits.

Fuck it!

He cleared his mind and braced for impact. The destrier neighed as she understood by instinct what was going to happen. Following Sir Callahan’s lead, Lansius allowed the warhorse to gallop as he was without a lance.

His limited vision slowly turned into a blur. He breathed deeply as the knights in front gallantly dive right into the enemy line. Despite more spears being directed at them, it wasn’t a unified wall of spears.

The South Hill’s front line broke for the second time, and mayhem ensued.

“EYAAH,” Lansius yelled, ready to swing his sword, but he entered the fray without any resistance.

The opposing men scattered to the left and right. Some even stood still as if frozen, their teeth chattering while their eyes locked onto the incoming knights. Their wills had been broken.

What started as an easy run, suddenly saw men being shoved towards Lansius’ left side. Their faces were drained of blood, but they couldn’t squeeze back into formation as it was too tight. Behind them, a group of well-armed men waddled their way, trying to reach the Korelian knights.

Lansius swung his sword to deter the nearest men. He was preoccupied with them when a poleaxe landed on Lansius’ greaves. No more than a glancing blow, but it startled him. Before he could react, a short, frightful shriek caught his attention.

A man was unfortunately pushed into the horse’s path. The beast mercilessly trampled over him. The scene barely registered in Lansius’ mind when another man was pushed toward him.

The poor man was so close that Lansius ended up whacking the man’s helmet with his pommel, as there was little room to swing the blade. He collapsed where he stood, barely dodging the horse’s deadly hooves.

No time to breathe. A bigger threat loomed ahead. The group of men with polearms finally reached the breach. From the side, they brandished their polearms toward the Korelian knights who had no means to retaliate.

Sir Harold and Callahan swerved wide, fighting off the brandished polearms, buying their Lord a broader path. But the polearms inadvertently came towards Lansius. Driven by fear, he parried them with his sword and jostled the rest with his gauntlets.

Three times, the sharp edges landed on his armor. Each time, the steel’s smooth contour deflected the thrust that grazed without biting. Lansius kept squeezing his knee on his horse, signaling her to increase speed while keeping his feet planted in the stirrup to avoid falling.

The destrier ran wilder than usual, possibly injured. Even partially armored, a strong thrust could still wound the beast. However, the beast remained aggressive and didn’t seem to falter.

As he parried the haphazard array of polearms to his side, the rest of his knights tore through the South Hill column like a thorny comb. The green grassy field was within sight.

“GAAHH!” Lansius choked. Something had struck his back. The hard blow rattled his gut and made light of his head.

He spat, narrowly avoiding vomiting. Lansius craned his neck and saw a man with a bardiche, a big axe-like blade mounted on a pole.

The bardiche wielder was ready for another blow but was impeded by his own side, who were frightened. With a face full of scorn, the man taunted Lansius. However, his helmet flew off and fresh blood spurted from the side of his head.

Sterling had swooped in from behind, delivering the fatal blow after the standard bearer had driven off two men to clear a path.

As for Lansius, he finally reached the open field and savored the change of scenery. He was out and even the destrier’s breathing had calmed.

Sir Harold and Callahan formed up around him as they slowed their trot. Fresh blood coated their armors and mounts. Suddenly, Lansius felt unwell.

“My Lord, are you hurt?” Callahan asked his visor already up.

Frantically, Lansius opened his visor and took a deep breath, as if he were drowning.

This spurred the two knights into action. Sir Harold flanked him first and tried to find the problem. “My Lord, can you breathe normally?”

“I-it’s hard,” Lansius gasped. “My back!”

“There’s a dent. You’ve been hit, My Lord,” shouted Sterling from behind.

“Get the backplate off,” Harold urged Callahan, as he took the destrier’s rein to steady the pace.

“Do it, do it,” Lansius begged, desperation coloring his voice.

Sterling could only watch as Callahan managed to undo the latches and remove the backplate after several tries. Instantly, Lansius could breathe freely again.

Moreover, the coolness from the absence of the backplate was remarkably refreshing despite the drenched arming doublet underneath the armor.

“The dent looked shallow, but it bent the waist part inward,” Callahan reported as they rode further.

Only then, Lansius noticed he had lost his sword. Likely, when the bardiche man had hit him.

Soon, they reached a safe distance and slow down their pace. Several streaks on Callahan’s armor caught Lansius’ attention, including a bolt head embedded near his shoulder that had failed to penetrate. Blood also coated Callahan’s legs and saddle.

“It’s not my blood, My Lord,” Callahan reassured, seeing Lansius notice the stains.

“Sir Harold, how about you?” Lansius inquired.

“Lost an axe and my left arm is a bit numb, but I still have my sword. I can do another pass, My Lord.”

Sir Harold’s bravado sent Lansius into a chuckle. “How many did we lose?”

“Five, maybe fewer,” Callahan replied flatly.

Lansius couldn’t suppress a smile at that result, especially when Sterling looked unharmed.

Unbelievable! This is better than my wildest predictions.

“My Lord, the Black Knights,” the standard bearer from the back called out.

They turned to see riders clad in black armor galloping toward them. The South Hill column, which they had split in two, provided the Black Knights with a clear path.

Although Lansius’ charge had inflicted significant damage, it wasn’t enough to rout the South Hill column from the battlefield. With the arrival of Lord Jorge and his Black Knights, the frontline quickly stabilized.

As Sir Callahan had predicted, this minor charge had only a small impact on the overall battle.

“Sir Harold, want to have a go at them?” Lansius jested.

“For you, My Lord, I’ll do it,” the tall knight replied with a wide smirk.

Lansius chuckled while gently signaling his destrier to pick up the pace.

“My Lord, smoke,” Sterling called out, pointing to the east, to where Sir Justin made his last stand.

Lansius nodded, then turned to Callahan. “Aim for the forest. Get us out of here!”

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PS: Yay, we finally reached this stage. The stakes are now higher.

The picture is of Lansius' Coat of Arms, the Bronze and Blue Chevron. Felicity found an old forgotten banner and modified it to her liking. She even embedded strands of her golden hair into the weaving as a charm.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your awesome support! ❤️