Chapter 90 The Prince
On a high ground.

Dressed in brocade robes, the eunuch with a smooth jaw and no beard even said in a low voice, "Prince Zahir, this is a well-trained Frankish army. We have penetrated far into the enemy's territory. , should we retreat?"

"withdraw?"

"Harry, are you frightened by the appearance of these Frankish savages charging? Losing that thing really took away all your courage!"

The leader of this group of Saracen cavalry is the third son of Saladin, Zahir Ghazi, the nominal lord of Aleppo and governor of northern Syria.

The eunuch had a long, thin face, and his complexion was unreasonably fair. He said calmly, "Prince Zahir, my king ordered me to take care of you. This is my duty!"

Zahir glanced at the eunuch contemptuously: "That's enough, Harry, looting a village can't extinguish the burning flame in my heart. I want to take the head of the leader of the Frankish cavalry and demand it back from Adi. My Aleppo!"

Speaking of his uncle, Governor of Syria Savodin (Adil), Zahir called him by his first name without respect.

Because a considerable part of the territory under his rule should have belonged to him.

It was only because Zahir was defeated in the battle against the Armenian mountain people when he ruled there that the territory was entrusted to Savudin.

"I will prove that I am still the son most worthy of my father's love."

Zahir drew out his sword and shouted: "Holy fire burns forever! My most elite Mamluk, bring fire and death to these Frankish barbarians!"

"The holy fire burns forever, the highest and the greatest!"

The Saracen cavalry screamed strangely and rushed out like a black hurricane.

These elite cavalry, selected from among the slaves of Gulam, equipped with fine scale armor, chain armor and zip armor, and riding Mawari horses purchased from Tianzhu, are far from those who were defeated by the Crusaders cavalry in the past No match for the Gorum cavalry.

They have practiced martial arts since childhood and are the most elite unit under Zahir.

He believed that his slave guards, even if they were not as good as his father's Mamluk guards, were second to none among his brothers.

It is by no means comparable to this group of unknown Frankish cavalry.

Lothar took the lead and rushed to the forefront.

Hans tightly held the lance with the black eagle swallowtail flag tied on it. Under the heavy helmet with winged horns, his eyes had turned into the vertical pupils of a beast, and boiling wolf blood was rushing in his body.

In the rear, knights holding swallowtail flags and square flags roared loudly.

"charge."

"In the name of the Royal Knights!"

"In the name of the father!"

"In the name of Jerusalem!"

"Kill these Saracen bastards."

The cavalry shouted different slogans and had different accents. People from the lowlands, Gaul, Toulouse, Albion, Leon, Navarre, and Tuscany were all there.

Even they themselves didn't know what they were shouting, they just roared subconsciously like wild animals to vent their nervousness.

The black cavalry and the red cavalry were like two waves, running towards each other on the ground, as if they were about to snap together in the next moment, setting off a bloody storm.

Lothar could only feel the crackling sound.

He didn't know what hit his helmet, whether it was the arrows or the stones mixed in the wind and sand. Under the mask, his breathing became extremely heavy, like a bellows.

Nearly.

closer.

Lothar could even clearly see the ferocious faces of the cavalrymen rushing up, their skin roughened by the wind and sand, and their black and messy beards.

boom--

A huge impact hit, and the lance in Lothar's hand abruptly knocked out the Mamluk cavalry holding the round shield on the opposite side.

His feet were still on the stirrups, his body fell back, and he fell to the ground. What greeted him was trampled by countless horseshoes, and he was killed in an instant.

Lothar slowly used the magic power in his body to nourish the soreness on his arm.

Then came the next enemy in a spiked helmet.

The sharp Saracen straight sword stabbed out at a tricky angle, aiming at Lothar's neck.

Swah——

The black shield was like a sharp axe, directly cutting off the arm of the Mamluk cavalry who stabbed out the straight sword.

Prajna in iron armor rode a war horse, like a shadow beside Lothar, intercepting all the attacks on Lothar's right side.

This is the duty of the Reloaded Iron Guard!

But Prajna can only guard against one side at most.

A six-star reloaded iron guard and a six-star mage are completely different concepts.

next moment.

whoosh-

Lothar suddenly raised the shield, and a powerful arrow cluster was nailed to it with a "snatch", and the sharp arrow hit his finger holding the shield, causing a sharp pain.

If he hadn't been wearing a pair of chain mail gloves, his fingers might have been severed by the arrows.

With his keen beast instincts, he immediately locked on to the Saracen cavalryman who was shooting cold arrows at him.

His armor is obviously different from that of others. Surrounding him, there are no guards who charge together, which shows the extraordinary identity of the other party.

He shouted: "Hans, Prajna, cover me!"

Immediately, he discarded the cracked lance, pulled out the armed sword made by Marles himself, and rushed towards the high ground where the Saracen cavalryman was.

boom--

A hammer swung from Lothar's left side and hit Lothar's head hard.

Lothar only felt the pressure on his neck suddenly increase, and the majestic force from the top of his head hit his chain armor neck guard heavily through the lower edge of the iron helmet and the chain armor on his neck.

The sound of iron clashing, like the sound of a bell, made his whole brain fall into a coma.

Lothar only had time to lift the shield in his hand, and the heavy hammer hit again.

The shield in Lothar's hand and the arm holding the shield slammed back heavily on his body, and he could no longer feel the pain. The first time he calmed down, he resisted the dizziness and wanted to fight back.

But immediately after, a lance pierced the man's chest and knocked him to the ground.

Lothar could see Ulm's back, the feathers unfolded backwards due to the high-speed galloping.

He passed himself and rushed to the front!

More and more hussars rushed up.

As hussars, they charged faster than Lothar, the armored mount that hadn't had time to change.

Zahir put down the horn bow in his hand in amazement, and said: "The leader of the Franks and his personal guards are so brave! If you capture those feathered cavalrymen, don't kill them, I will let them join my Mamluks. "

The eunuch next to him advised again: "My lord, let's retreat, those Franks have already charged over here, with your honorable status, you should not be involved in such a dangerous battle!"

Zahir proudly rejected the servant's advice: "No, I am the son of Saladin, the eagle in the desert, the master of Syria, and I am never afraid of fighting!"

"He wants to fight me, then come!"

"Mamluk, let these Frankish barbarians see how powerful we are!"

He raised the straight sword in his hand, roared, and led a group of guards to protect him, and rushed towards Lothar who was cutting through the Mamluk cavalry like a sharp arrow.

Looking down from the sky, one can clearly see the black waves, presenting an enveloping posture, enveloping the red and white waves.

The light cavalry on the two wings of the Saracens were rushing towards the village.

These light cavalry were responsible for delaying the support of the Crusader infantry against the cavalry with arrows.

Otherwise, once the two cavalry have hedged, the Mamluk cavalry that has lost its impact is likely to fall into the siege of the Crusaders.

In this state, perhaps the Mamluk cavalry can still play a one-to-one, or even a one-to-two exchange ratio.

But exchanging the well-trained heavy cavalry with the crusader infantry who may have been out of the training ground for less than a week, even if the exchange ratio is one to ten, is a huge loss that Zahir cannot accept.

In the rear, the light infantry of the Knights also fired.

Lothar did not specifically train archers or crossbowmen, but a considerable number of new soldiers recruited by the Knights were mountain people from Armenia who believed in the Apostolic Church (which was considered a branch of the Orthodox Church).

In addition to the two main weapons of spears and shields, they also carry ancestral slings, an ancient but practical weapon with a range of up to 200 meters.

When the Saracen Qingqi approached, they jumped out of their cover, rushed forward a few steps quickly, and swung the sling to throw fist-sized gravel at the enemy Qingqi.

Caught off guard, several Saracen light cavalry who were only equipped with leather armor were smashed to the ground and fell off their horses.

Lion and Model in heavy armor, holding battle axes, each led a team of Varangian guards, shouting: "Follow me to charge, kill the damned heretics!"

"Heavenly Father will protect us!"

The next moment, the crusaders who were still in the bunker charged towards the lagging light cavalry like a tide.

(End of this chapter)

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