A pale golden light suddenly flashed along the boundary line between the hillside and the blue sky.

Beneath the long-tailed helmets, only the lower half of their faces was exposed, while the upper part was obscured by the iron visors of the helmets, adorned with black and red plumes.

Under the blazing sun, their outline against the sky was somewhat blurred, and the air seemed slightly distorted.

Standing at the very front was Jeanne, who also revealed only half of her face.

Her armor was specially modified by the Armorer, replacing the original Church's swirling stork leaf pattern with gilded gear and sun motifs.

She could now wear iron armor.

In contrast to Horn, who after laboring for half a year barely reached "half-step-third-level," Jeanne had in half a year reached the fifth stage of the breathing technique the day before yesterday.

With her well-practiced Extraordinary martial arts and refined spell control, even using only the Holy Grail Battle Banner, her combat strength was comparable to that of an Imperial Knight.

So she no longer needed to wear leather armor just to safeguard the effective use of spells.

In fact, Jeanne and her group had arrived nearly half an hour ago, and immediately saw the Extraordinary Knight fighting the Cuirassiers.

But Jeanne did not rush to attack and rescue, because she currently only had fifty Holy Gun Cavalry, while the rest were busy driving away the Church's light cavalry that came to harass.

She needed to wait for the perfect opportunity, and that was now.

"Finally, their formation has dispersed..."

Jeanne spoke, half angry and half relieved, observing Harvin's cavalry formation that had become disjointed in their pursuit.

"Micro-effect perception potion!" Cork pulled out, the Holy Gun Cavalry swallowed the yellow, odorous oil into their stomachs.

Unlike the commonly used Khan potion by knights, this potion mainly enhances perception and precise control over the body.

Of course, thanks to Sessi's modification, the cost was considerably reduced, although after drinking, a faint imperceptible urine-like smell lingered in the mouth.

Sessi swore that the potion contained no trace of urine, whatever gas it generated in the mouth was not his concern.

"Wind the springs, prepare to attack!"

Amidst the creaking sounds of gears, Harvin squinted, watching the Holy Gun Cavalry standing on the hillside, backs to the blazing sun.

Upon seeing those three-quarter armor pieces, his pupils also contracted slightly.

"Is this the rebel heavy cavalry that defeated you previously?"

"Yes." Kasedar replied with a shrunken neck in fear, "Your Excellency, be careful, they..."

"I don't heed advice from defeated generals." Harvin interrupted Kasedar, focusing on Jeanne's half-youthful face. "Is that the infamous witch Jeanne? Would capturing her be considered an accomplishment?"

"How could it not?" Kasedar quickly flattered.

"Regroup, quick start! Don't let them gain speed!" Ignoring Kasedar, Harvin swiftly commanded, and the sound of horns filled the battlefield.

As Harvin issued the order, the creaking sounds from the hillside stopped.

"Assault formation, advance slowly!"

Following previous battles, Jeanne sought to conserve horsepower and initiated the advance with a slow pace command.

With Jeanne and Kolebo leading, fifty Holy Gun Cavalry moved forward in a 6x8 staggered column formation.

Hooves thudded, kicking up dust.

Between each row and column, it seemed as if invisible barriers separated them, the potion granting them muscle control that made them appear as if chained together, perfectly synchronized.

To be precise, their years of discipline ensured remarkable orderliness, merely amplified under the potion's influence.

As the pale golden cavalry formation began accelerating, it felt like a colossal golden iron block charging forward.

Many southern Ibe Knights' expressions shifted.

"What's there to fear! They haven't been trained for long, maybe six months?" Harvin's timely voice sounded, "We've trained for ten years, what's there to fear? If you're a spineless Kush descendant, then retreat!"

From the two diamond-shaped Extraordinary Knight formations came laughter, only those few Kush descendent knights bowed their heads.

The ground trembled, and pebbles rolled down the hillside.

Squirrels with mouths full of nuts glared with beady eyes for two seconds before darting up trees, turning its head, and its obsidian-like pupils reflected a terrifying scene.

The galloping hooves on both sides of the battlefield, one black, one gold, were scarcely fifty meters apart.

"Aim!" The Holy Maiden Battle Banner embroidered with the Holy Grail stood tall in everyone's sight.

Harvin was stunned, was this the rebel war cry? What kind of aiming call was this, how tasteless!

"Holy bless Falan!"

Unwilling to be outdone, Harvin first roared his war cry.

"Holy bless Falan!"

The knights followed, shouting together.

But to Harvin's surprise, the opposing formation remained unchanged, terrifyingly precise.

Just as Harvin was puzzled, Jeanne's battle banner swung down fiercely, turning into a spiral lancehead pointing forward: "Fire!"

"Praise the Holy Wind!"

"It's their magic crossbows, duck down quickly!" exclaimed a knowledgeable Knight in shock, laying awkwardly flat on the horse.

But the other knights had no such intention; they even felt that this posture tarnished their pride.

The thunderous roar seemed to explode Harvin's eardrums, and the horses collectively let out terrified neighs.

"Ah—"

The knights in the front row fell down in response.

Harvin's warhorse was similarly frightened, rearing up and landing, bucking backward repeatedly against the direction of the charge, almost throwing Harvin off.

Once he calmed the horse, he couldn't understand the battlefield situation anymore; after firing the first shot, the Holy Gun Cavalry drew their sabers and hammer spears, surprisingly choosing to engage in melee in this small area.

In the cries of battle, the racing horses surged and churned like boiling water in a pot.

At such times, there's no time for commands—only one-on-one or a few groups of cavalry can fight it out.

Harvin targeted a young Holy Gun Cavalry, whose saddle straps were broken and being urgently repaired.

Clearly a novice, doing such things in the middle of the battlefield.

Harvin pricked his horse with the spurs on his boots, increased his speed, leveled his lance, and charged toward the Holy Gun Cavalry.

Let's take one down first for fun!

Harvin's confidence stemmed from his heritage.

Why do knights always emphasize "family heritage is our duty"? Because the extraordinary skills are owned by the nobility and require long-term inheritance to form a skill barrier.

Just like Harvin's lance technique, passed down from the first generation of Baron Freet to Count, to Duke, and back to Count, a full seven hundred years!

Seven hundred years of inherited effort—why should it be defeated by a cavalry trained in half a year?

Harvin's thigh muscles tightened, a grim smile appeared on his face.

Countless people have tried to steal extraordinary skills, but no one would have thought that the true power of Freet's lance technique lies in the thighs and waist.

"This thrust, seven hundred years of heritage, you..."

"Bang!"

Suddenly, Harvin's limbs lost all strength, a mix of warmth and pain spread from his abdomen.

He bowed his head, the grim smile froze, as blood and bodily fluids spurted simultaneously from his abdomen.

"Ah—"

The indescribable pain made him let out an embarrassing wail, covering his abdomen, Harvin was thrown off the horse.

"Showy."

The Holy Gun Cavalry cast a glance at him as if looking at a lunatic, tucked the clockwork gun back into its holster, and shook the horse to kill another.

At this moment, the battlefield situation was not exceptionally favorable for Jeanne, as she was on the side with fewer numbers.

Once the two shots were fired, it would rely on raw strength to clash.

But the battlefield is just so unreasonable; someone witnessed Harvin being shot and began shouting with a high-pitched voice, "Harvin is dead, Harvin is dead!"

"Is Sir Harvin really dead?"

Many knights engaged in melee began searching for Harvin among the crowd.

But people clearly saw his warhorse, yet there was no one on it.

"Is he dead?"

"Really dead?"

"Run—"

"Let's not forget, we weren't here for a final battle!"

Amid the melee, the Extraordinary Knights were already at a disadvantage due to their frightened horses, unable to speed up and control precisely, and their excellent horsemanship couldn't be demonstrated.

Additionally, the Holy Gun Cavalry's unfair tactics often involved close combat and sudden point-blank gunfire.

Many renowned knights fell under this move.

This humiliating tactic was unprecedented for them.

Originally orchestrated by Harvin, when Harvin "died," the knights remembered their initial task and decisively chose to flee in all directions.

Seeing the battlefield situation change, the Beastman Cavalry stood out once again.

Without Jeanne's order, they pursued the Extraordinary Knights with harvest-like joy.

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