The wind, filled with the choking smell of smoke, blew past her ears, guiding Jeanne towards her path through the burning houses and fences.

She pulled out a battle flag made from ironwood, and with a flick of her wrist, the flag woven from magical monster silk wrapped around the spear shaft.

Electric snakes leapt, instantly making the silk-woven flag harder than steel.

This was a gift to Horn from Charles VIII, an exotic treasure exchanged from overseas islands, better than ordinary monster fur.

"Charge!"

The spear tip trembled, and the three rows of over fifty cavalrymen charged towards the scattered mercenaries.

In the relatively narrow city alleys, dozens of cavalrymen formed into three columns, pressing forward like a wall, the impact still quite significant.

In fact, when the great nobles and church mobilized temple knights to suppress citizen uprisings, they often used this tactic.

As for the soldiers still looting in the square and streets and attacking the Knight Hall, they were completely caught off guard.

Originally attacking the Knight Hall well, but suddenly a group of cavalry emerged from somewhere.

As over fifty cavalrymen charged in, there was instantly the sound of muffled flesh colliding, accompanied by occasional flashes of dazzling white light.

Against the swarm of charging cavalry, especially those with extraordinary cavalry among them, the kingdom’s soldiers were pushed aside to both edges like the waves broken by a ship’s bow.

Forcibly clearing a path for Jeanne and others towards the Knight Hall.

"Surround them, spearmen!"

Awkwardly rising from the ground, the leading Robber Knight grabbed the flower bed to stand up, shouting towards the bewildered soldiers.

"These are not specialized cavalry, they’re slow, pull them down!"

"Short-haired devils!"

"Hicks!"

Seeing the Holy Alliance cavalry slow down, those mercenaries quickly leaped up, waving their halberds towards the riders.

After the horses slowed, the cavalrymen did not panic and neither did they rush to attack.

They casually picked up the spring-loaded guns from the side of the saddles.

At night, though there was fire, the distance was slightly far but dense, not professional cavalry yet equipped with Kanni Di 1453 model breech-loading spring guns.

"Bang bang bang!"

A series of whizzing sounds rang out.

The leather armor burst apart, while chainmail clattered to the ground, and the blood mist under the firelight even faintly appeared orange.

Almost twenty soldiers screamed and fell, the Holy Wind’s whistling sound immediately triggered psychological shadows for many soldiers who participated in the Battle of Thousand River Valley.

They hadn’t even caught sight of Jeanne, but had already gone mad with fear, abandoning their weapons and fleeing in all directions.

"You cowardly bunch," the mercenary captain, Robber Knight, shouted in frustration, stomping his feet.

Yet he also feared those spring guns and dared not mount his horse to fight.

Hiding behind the arcade of the citizen’s square, he drew his longbow, shooting continuously, afraid to approach.

"Don’t turn back, charge straight in!"

Feeling the arrows whizzing behind her, Jeanne shouted to the surrounding cavalrymen.

These cavalrymen were called cavalry, but actually, many were mages or infantry officers, with poor riding skills.

Good for travel, barely for charging, but not for mounted combat.

Taking advantage of the current chaos among the rebels, quickly converge with the Knight Hall inside and try to seize the two arrow towers.

After years of war, Jeanne only needed a glance in the dim firelight to confirm—

Control the two arrow towers, and we’ve won seventy percent tonight.

"Michelle, we’re short on manpower, get some more," Jeanne said as she reached the Knight Hall walls, she spun her horse around and threw out a bolt of lightning.

Instantly, over a dozen soldiers fell with faces blackened, smoke smelling like rotten eggs wafting from the seams of their helmets.

On the other side, Michelle, dodging the hail of arrows, was the first to break through the Knight Hall wall’s gate, yelling toward the Knight Hall: "Hey, is anyone still alive in there?"

"Open the door!"

Donning his scale armor, he fastened his boat-shaped helm on his head, and Towla gasped heavily, shouting to the guards and militia.

"Now?"

"Yes, we’re going to support our allies."

"Alright..."

"Wait." But a representative rushed out urgently, grabbing Towla’s wrist, "There’s no hurry."

"No hurry for what? Are we going to act like turtles hiding in the Knight Hall while watching our allies spill blood fighting outside?"

"These rebels are just temporarily unable to gather many people, and even though there are over fifty cavalrymen now, they’re still no match for those over five hundred men.

Let’s watch and wait before deciding when to open the gate.

Otherwise, if we open it later, we might not have time to close it!"

Suddenly turning his head, Tora stared wide-eyed at the representative.

Even Bradak’s excited face stiffened, his smile frozen.

The representative actually feared the risk of fighting out, preferring to witness allied forces engaging alone while ensuring his own safety.

Is this the representative they originally elected by law?

"What do you mean? Representative Marameon."

Tora’s icy tone shocked Marameon into softness.

He released Tora’s wrist, but quickly regained his composure: "By dawn, the Council of Sixteen will react.

Now that the Holy Alliance reinforcements have arrived, we still have time. I, in the name of the Forty-Five Guild, forbid you from opening the gate."

"How can you represent the Forty-Five Guild?" Bradak, wearing ill-fitting armor, strode forward and shouted at Marameon.

"Fine, let’s vote then!" Marameon turned smugly, shouting to the other representatives on two rows of benches behind him.

But as he turned, he heard a whooshing sound behind him.

Turning his head halfway, he vaguely saw Bradak’s fierce expression, then felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, his eyes flipping.

Stepping over the collapsed Marameon, Bradak gasped violently: "With Holy Alliance reinforcements ahead, he dared to stir trouble, he must be a church spy!"

Bradak’s eyes were blood-red, gripping a bloody stair railing: "Due to the presence of church spies, temporarily disband the guild. Who supports, who opposes?"

"How dare you..." Originally, a representative stood up, ready to rebuke.

But halfway through the speech, he found all the militias and guards in the Knight Hall coldly watching him.

Moments ago, they were eyewitnesses as these representatives were noisy, yet Bradak and Tora led them in resistance.

No matter if they used to be confidants of a representative, at this moment of life and death, nothing else mattered.

"How dare you... suspect us? We are, of course, in favor!" The standing representative immediately shifted his stance with righteous words.

The other representatives instantly fell silent, not daring to speak recklessly.

"Alright, since you’re all in favor, then follow my orders, open the gate!"

Suppressing those who hindered, Tora shot a surprised glance at this longtime friend: "You have such courage."

"With disaster at the doorstep, laws and such are put aside for now." Bradak was also resolute, "Do you have trustworthy people?"

"I do, what’s the matter?"

"Send them to the dungeon, if the rebels break in, get ahead and deal with Master Stoer..." Bradak gestured with his thumb across his throat.

"...Alright." Tora, as if recognizing Bradak anew, nodded heavily.

Arrangements made, the gate was pushed open, and Tora grabbed his spear, charging out first.

The battering ram at the door required eight soldiers to wield, but the officer supervising them went to intercept Jeanne’s cavalry.

As they were at a loss in place, the gate they battered suddenly swung open.

In the darkness, the spear thrusts out, piercing one man’s chest with a squelch.

A twist and yank, the soldier let out a painful cry, convulsing and rolling to the ground.

The remaining militias surged out, waving their swords and short spears, surrounding and attacking.

Swords clashed, shields collided, within moments, several soldiers were stabbed down, hacked into pulp.

Kicking down a soldier climbing the steps to aid, Tora stepped back two steps: "Push the battering ram down."

Several militias strained, lifting the ram and turning it around, then collectively pushing it.

The rounded battering ram rolled down swiftly, crushing the legs of multiple soldiers attempting a counterattack.

Following behind the battering ram, Tora discarded his spear, drew his half-sword and roared as he charged at the rebels.

As for Bradak, he raised his crossbow, shooting at soldiers emerging from the barricades.

A shot knocked down a soldier in the open, Bradak discarded the crossbow, hoisting a banner.

Struggling to climb onto the back of a stone-carved white horse, he waved the banner towards the gate:

"We’re here, we’re here!"

Navigating through an arrow shower, Michelle spurred his horse forward.

Though meeting for the first time, his appreciative tone was already of camaraderie: "Left side tower has been breached, we’re fiercely attacking the right side.

The front door needs manpower to set up fences and barricades, bring more, let’s trap the enemy inside."

Tora immediately agreed, slashing off a soldier’s arm with his sword, then mounting an unclaimed warhorse, following after.