The fire devoured the cottages that had been painstakingly built over two months, and amidst the billowing smoke, there were intense coughing and cries of despair.

The heavy wheat ears and rice stalks were stained red with blood, as the knights pursued in the fields, searching for the fleeing farmers.

The hounds searched everywhere among mountains, bushes, and caves for survivors, and whenever a dog barked, a knight would swiftly rush to the scene.

"How's it going? Has the Hundred Households Captain of this manor been captured?"

An imposing Extraordinary Knight sat on a short war horse and asked the attendant who had rushed over.

"He died in battle, Mr. Kasedar." Bowing respectfully, not out of genuine reverence for Kasedar, but out of fear, hoping not to burst into laughter at his peculiar eyes.

Unlike most cross-eyed individuals, Kasedar's peculiar appearance was due to a hereditary trait of his family, causing his left eye to look left and his right eye to look right.

In this era of widespread cousin marriages among nobility, not having some "hereditary divine features" almost made one feel embarrassed to be called a noble.

Despite his foolhardy appearance, Kasedar's voice was steady: "How many have we lost so far?"

"We've lost about twenty people..."

"Not bad." Kasedar nodded, "This way, when we flee, it'll look genuine."

The attendant knight was speechless.

These losses weren't staged; there really were these casualties, and even two attendant knights were killed in a crossbow arrow ambush. He didn't dare tell Kasedar.

These people were truly eerie, a small manor where not only were the farmers incredibly courageous, but dozens of extraordinary soldiers appeared.

Even the ordinary farmers were tougher to kill than those in Jinhe Town.

The reason for the farmers' exceptional bravery was simple: in the manor era, they guarded gates for others. When enemies came, fleeing was their main task.

Now these lands were hard-won, their foundation for survival, their dream of a beautiful life.

Would they allow these knights to take it away?

As for the origins of the extraordinary infantry, it's even simpler.

They were the farmers!

Horn opened up the forests and waters, allowing villagers to freely fish and hunt.

Villagers occasionally enjoyed a meat meal.

Though not able to eat meat daily like the Salvation Army, the Defensive Army managed to have meat once or twice every three to five days, and ordinary villagers once a week.

After all, Langsande County had vast areas of forest and numerous streams and lakes.

Horn directly distributed the knights' breathing techniques, available to all for practice.

An important duty of the Defensive Army was training ordinary civilians in spears and long spears during idle periods.

Whether fighting wild boars and wolves or confronting knights and bandits, it proved useful.

Of course, unless exceptionally gifted, ordinary villagers' breathing techniques progressed slower than those of the Defensive Army or Salvation Army.

After three months, every Hundred Households District had, alongside the original Armed Farmers, at least ten to twenty users of breathing techniques.

Among the two hundred attendant knights, many suffered significant losses from surprise attacks.

Only Kasedar was unaware.

He still happily led his comrades on cavalry charges here and there.

This was clearly prestigious and profitable work, why did those knights stationed at the border always shirk it?

Seeing their evasive attitude, as a warrior who had fought alongside Sand Sculpture Knight Nidesar, he took the initiative to accept this task on behalf of the Southern Knights.

Judging by current performance, this luring-and-harassing mission wasn't particularly difficult.

"Mr. Kasedar, look over there." At the edge of the forest not far away, troop after troop of iron-clad cavalry circled the hill, surging toward them like waves.

"Finally arrived! Form ranks!"

Kasedar laughed and began shouting for the attendant knights to form ranks.

Soon, over two hundred attendant knights lined up in the wasteland plains by the wheat fields.

Among them were some thirty official Extraordinary Knights serving as captains, while the rest were attendants with one or two stages of breathing techniques or none at all.

They stood quietly next to the wheat fields, biding their time, waiting for the appearance of the Holy Gun Cavalry.

A gentle breeze brushed past, causing the wheat ears to sway lightly; everything seemed peaceful—if one ignored the rolling smoke and cries of agony behind the knights.

"Here they come!" Kasedar whispered.

A banner adorned with black, red, and a gear-like sun appeared in sight.

Griz raised the battle flag with one arm, his body bound to the horseback, and his eyes seemed to blaze with fire.

Behind him, hundreds of Holy Gun Cavalry moved in waves like a sea.

"Switch from walking to running!" Leading the charge, Jeanne shouted.

The iron hooves pounded the ground like heavy drums, while the breastplates adorned with brass gear patterns reflected a faint golden light in the sunlight.

The cavalry wore half-enclosed long-tailed helmets, with neck guards and visors firmly protecting their heads.

The heavy three-quarter armor clanged with the bumping of the warhorses.

Although Horn preferred using breastplates, the previous battle at Pavia proved that the firepower of the Holy Gun Cavalry had not yet reached the level to penetrate breastplates during a charge.

On each side of the saddle hung a cavalry single-shot gun, already loaded.

This gun had a smaller caliber and less destructive range but was lighter, and with a two to three-step breathing technique, it could be raised and fired single-handedly.

With a gloved hand, Jeanne drew out the single-handed holy gun, pushed the saber on her belt to an easily reachable position, and her high boots pressed tightly against the saddle, ready to adjust speed at any moment.

Behind her, in a dense formation, each line of Holy Gun Cavalry closely followed the previous one, advancing like a wave of steel.

Under the shade of the sunlight, the faces of the Holy Gun Cavalry were indistinguishable.

The warhorses snorted hot air, their right hands gripping the holy guns tightly, with the barrels flashing in the sunlight.

The formation of the Holy Gun Cavalry shone like gold, swiftly flying from the plains towards the other end of the wheat fields.

The wheat fields shook and trembled under their trampling, dust mixed with wheat ears scattered around, and even Kasedar, who had witnessed knight charges before, felt his mouth going dry.

Is this the cavalry of the peasant rebels?

If you said this was the Holy Temple Knight Order charging, I'd believe you.

"Lord Kasedar, something feels off," the male servant beside him whispered.

"Go around! Go around! Don't engage directly! Let's try a flank harassment!" Kasedar hurriedly ordered.

He finally understood why those Ibe Knights on the border always shirked and lured the enemy!

"Alright, let's try it then."

The accompanying knights formed a figure-eight formation, attempting to deal with the Holy Gun Cavalry using traditional light cavalry harassment tactics.

But unfortunately, this tactic had little effect on the Holy Gun Cavalry, who were equally fast.

"Volley fire!" Jeanne raised the cavalry's holy gun single-handedly, roaring as she pulled the trigger.

"Praise the Holy Wind!" As a unified roar echoed, thunderous blasts exploded in everyone's ears.

The smoke on the plains was instantly drawn into the clockwork guns and expelled along with the bullets.

Dozens of bullets zoomed like comets, trailing long smoke tails, piercing the abdominal cavities and blood vessels of the accompanying knights, blasting out hollow cavities.

The sound of kettles shattering rang in succession, their bodies resembling water surfaces, each bullet passing through splattering a spray of blood.

The warhorses neighed in terror, scattering uncontrollably.

A round of volley fire immediately disrupted the formation of the accompanying knights.

The blood mist rose in the sunlight, human figures swaying everywhere, the entire formation resembling dizzy sardines wandering amidst the wheat fields and open terrain.

"Charge!" Hoisting the battle flag, Saint Jeanne led the charge, with endless lightning spreading open like wings on both sides.

Seven or eight accompanying knights didn't even have time to speak before being swept by the electric net, scorching lightning penetrating their bodies. With a wretched scream, they stiffened and slid off their horses, crashing to the ground.

"Holy Spirit bless!"

The warhorses neighed, and the Holy Gun Cavalry roared as they drew the long sabers from their waists.

The cavalry swiftly brushed past the accompanying knights, their long blades slashing at the knights' armors and chain mails with increased speed.

The long blades danced over the riveted iron rings and sword edges, fingers stained with blood, chests and backs dyed red, and wrists neatly severed...

"Sssss!"

"Wait, wait."

"Hold on, I surrender."

Before the accompanying knight finished speaking, a bright saber hummed as it sliced into his face.

The Holy Gun Cavalry rotated their wrists, the saber dragging, cutting deeper into the cheek.

As they brushed past, a corpse bearing a few rows of molars sticking out of the side of the face rolled to the ground.

"You have no right!"

When the Holy Gun Cavalry slaughtered their way back to their original position through the accompanying knights, only a group of crying, struggling wounded were left on the ground.

As for the accompanying knights, scattered into dozens of small groups, some hadn't even realized what had happened.

"Steady, steady! Move steadily backward!" At this point, Kasedar didn't care about confidentiality anymore, shouting directly, "Lure the enemy, lure them to Canglan Valley!"

Saying this, he turned his horse's head, personally demonstrating the act of luring the enemy to Canglan Valley.

The rest of the accompanying knights, crying out and lamenting, chased after Kasedar's horse's tail towards Canglan Valley.

"Cuirassiers, pursue!"

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