The First Magic World War

This newly established Knighthood, although comprised of a complex personnel, managed to muster a bit of cohesion under Charles's various methods, at least they could follow orders without mistakes.

No sooner had they issued a verbal warning than three hundred men readied their rifles and began to shoot at the defeated troops that continued to charge at them.

The Empire had provided the Knighthood with only these three hundred rifles; the remaining weapons were military sabers, shields, and the like.

On the Old Continent, although firearms had emerged, they had not yet been widely distributed among the armies. Only the Royal Knights Order and private knighthoods of great nobles were equipped with guns universally. Local forces were generally not equipped with firearms. For example, the Kilmainham Prison guards were outfitted with Magnum Hand Shuttles, but Charles's Patrolling Army had always lacked sufficient firearms. They couldn't even manage to arm each person with a rifle when going into battle.

The Westwind Knights, apart from these three hundred rifles, had a portion of men using handguns, all pilfered during the major heist of 5 Dragon Fortress Street: the Chelsea Detective Agency by Charles, and the rest used military sabers, with some even wielding rapiers unsuitable for the battlefield.

The only consolation was that, at least, Charles had not let his men go into battle armed with nothing but a walking stick.

Yet, there were indeed many local forces whose basic weapons were nothing more than the walking sticks of several Sheng Ding, at most paired with a cheap dagger.

No matter how inadequate the Westwind Knights were, they were still a local army from Strasbourg, the capital, not something other local forces could compare with.

Charles couldn't help but cover his eyes. He simply couldn't bear to watch so many people being shot, especially since... it was his command.

But to most of the Westwind Knights, this gesture of compassion and pity was seen as nothing but the airs of a noble lord.

To give the order to shoot these people, and then to hypocritically cover his own eyes.

How much this posture resembled a dog!

On Earth, even elementary school students knew not to let retreating allies scatter their formations, but on the Old Continent, not many knew this, not even many of those who had received formal military training. One had to have fought in a few battles to become a competent commander.

For the warriors of the Westwind Knights, this represented the Clerk Chief of the thirty-fourth degree, fourth rank, the former general, and now Knight Commander's cold-hearted and ruthless methods.

And this guy was particularly hypocritical...

Bizarrely enough, this sentiment made the members of the Westwind Knights even more willing to follow Charles's orders, not out of respect, but out of fear.

These men didn't know that in ancient times in the East, there was a man named Confucius who said, "The superior man is dignified, but does not wrangle; he is sociable, but not a partisan."

Even if they knew, these criminals and gang members probably couldn't comprehend such profound words.

After two volleys of gunfire, the disordered soldiers finally started to behave, no longer directly charging forth, but maneuvering around the Westwind Knights instead.

Originally, these men had intended to keep fleeing after bypassing the Knighthood, but Charles had prepared in advance. Yellow Bear led men to intercept them; having originated from a gang, he had several vengeful spirits under him, so any disordered soldiers who tried to disobey were shot on the spot by him.

Although the scene remained chaotic, under Yellow Bear's stern suppression, no major disturbances ensued, and most of the disordered soldiers were rounded up.

The cavalry of Byron, the Blood Butcher, reaping lives on the battlefield, spotted Charles's Westwind Knights and halted their continued pursuit, gathering their formation and approaching the Knighthood's defensive position, stopping two hundred paces away – the maximum firing range of the Empire's standard-issue rifles.

Experience tales at empire

A knight spurred his mount, leaving his unit, while Charles also gave the command for his men not to shoot without orders. He too, clutching an Anti-Space Sniper Rifle, exited the ironclad defense formation.

As a Sixth Order Transcendent, Charles was not afraid to engage in a commander's duel on the battlefield.

The two lead generals encountered each other on the battlefield, and the knight on the other side took off his visor, revealing a rugged-looking burly man. From all signs of life, this was not a Vampire; he must be a Blood Servant.

In Byron, Transcendents had hardly any other path: they were either Vampires or Blood Servants. Normal-minded Transcendents were worried about being killed by the Vampires. Although Byron had agreements with other countries, those only ensured that Vampires would restrain themselves within the borders of those countries, but they couldn't guarantee the safety of Transcendents within Byron's own territory.

After all, this was an empire established by Vampires.

Charles shrugged his shoulders and said, "Sorry, this way is blocked."

The opposing knight coldly stated, "It's not convenient for me to reveal my name, you can call me the Restorer of South Serif. I was originally a person of South Serif."

"This war is South Serif's revenge against Behemoth, for the people of Behemoth are all despicable traitors."

"This has nothing to do with the people of Fars."

Charles sighed and said, "I am a person of Behemoth, and my team is all made up of people of Behemoth who live in Fars."

"Therefore, I have to come, I have to fight."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Charles was certainly a person of Behemoth, but his subordinates were a motley crew, and even if there were people of Behemoth among them, there wouldn't be many. Yet he said so because he always felt that the knight opposite him was a bit "naive". Maybe he could deceive him into something.

The rugged knight claiming to be the Restorer of South Serif coldly said, "Then there's no helping it." He lowered his visor and bellowed, "Charge!"

This cavalry from Byron truly lived up to their reputation as elite troops, immediately launching a charge at the command of the rugged knight.

Charles was completely dumbfounded, unable to understand why war would suddenly break out?

It was only a second later that he realized he had been deceived by the other party.

As a Knight Commander, in the center of the battlefield, his men would never open fire; the greatest advantage of rifles over knights would be completely obliterated.

In that instant, Charles felt a twinge of shame; he had done something foolish.

He muttered under his breath, "After all, I'm just a fool who has never been on a battlefield!"

"To think that on the battlefield there would still be any concern for gentlemanly grace."

"Even if being a gentleman mattered, why would I fuss over it with a Blood Servant?"

Charles's mind was in disarray, but his body was honest; he raised the Anti-Space Sniper Rifle with one hand and pulled the trigger.

The rugged knight stirred his Fighting Spirit, his entire body enveloped in a layer of crimson halo as he roared, "I am the Blood Butcher, a mere rifle cannot penetrate my body."

As one with his horse, his Knight's Spear pointed forward, the man emanated a fearsome presence, and behind him, a blood-red flag fluttered faintly. It was the Proof of War that could only be cultivated through countless battles.

The eight proofs of a knight were not necessarily acquired in any particular order, but the Proof of War must be earned on the battlefield. Hence, it was easily obtained by common knights while noble knights often lacked it due to rarely entering battles.

Combining the Proof of War with the title of Blood Butcher, he indeed became a harvester of lives on the battlefield, an unstoppable force capable of breaking through enemy ranks.