Chapter 969: The End of the Earl of Flanders

There is no need for new orders. Grund and the others only have one order - kill.

These heavily armored warriors are strong and tall, standing on the battlefield like a pagoda.

They often wield two-handed battle axes that can thrust and chop down the enemies in front of them like wood.

A sudden thrust will bring blood to the spearhead. One chop will break the bones.

Even just a side attack can stun the enemy.

These blond Nordic strong men lived up to Rurik's high expectations, and keeping them as a tactical reserve team was actually the most correct choice.

Not only Grund's group, but also the more than 300 warriors who joined the battle behind them all used round shields to form a shield wall, which was indeed like a "wedge driven into a wooden block."

They invaded with force and successfully completed the laziness of the Flanders Army. As a result, an encirclement circle was immediately formed. Count Baudouin, who was blocked in the circle, wanted to break out. Facing a group of iron men, he could only Can helplessly continue to resist.

As for the reinforcements that were blocked outside?

No! Reinforcements were non-existent.

The morale of the Boguo army has collapsed! As long as the troops were driven outside the circle, they completely abandoned their front, and the fief knights refused to fulfill their allegiance.

Many people have died, and they have persisted until now despite considerable casualties. They have already relied on the special BUFF of the Bishop's Blessing, and they have tried their best to do their best.

However, the enemy is the devil!

No one could break the Norman line, it was now a one-sided killing by the opponent.

The Boguo army was beaten to the point where they lost their armor. In order to escape quickly, the peasant soldiers threw away their weapons, rolled around on the muddy battlefield with their bare hands, and fled towards the south.

The fief knights also fled in a hurry, heading straight for the horses placed in the rear, intending to seize them and escape.

As for rescuing the besieged Earl, there are indeed lower-level knights who insist on morality and insist on rescuing him.

The offensive was ruthlessly interrupted by the Ross army. Those soldiers with bear heads were monsters. Now the monsters began to counterattack.

The few warriors carrying crossbows are really stupid in their decision-making.

Since killing enemies is a blood sacrifice to Odin, sniping with a crossbow is also a good way to achieve meritorious service. There are many enemies and they can run away quickly. It's like hunting a herd of wild deer. Don't think about holding an ax to chop off the deer's head yourself. It's more satisfying to shoot an arrow from a long distance.

He stretched, cocked, aimed, and shot all in one go. An enemy fell to the ground with an arrow in his back...

Their pursuit was unresolved, and the battlefield evolved into more than a hundred people chasing nearly two thousand people.

If a Russian cavalry suddenly burst out and trampled, slashed, and stabbed mercilessly, the enemy would suffer a devastating blow.

However, the enemy ran faster than the snow fox, and his skillful appearance made the brave Ross warriors despise him.

In the distance, the priest carrying the cross saw the entire battle clearly.

The young priest's legs were shaking, and Bishop Paul Feder fainted several times.

The bishop finally woke up, and at this moment he saw the broken troops everywhere, fleeing in the direction of Ghent without any choice.

For a moment, the bishop cheered up. He opened his old arms and shouted to the fleeing people: "Where is the count?! Don't flee! Drive out the barbarians for the sake of faith! What you do is a betrayal of faith."

However, the knights on horseback did not give the bishop any face. The fast horses passed by and splashed a lot of mud, but the bishop himself washed his face.

Being humiliated by this, the bishop did not care about his dignity. In a panic, he continued to curse at the back of the fleeing man, and even threatened to deprive him of his religious membership.

However, the young priest came over and asked shiveringly: "Pada...are we evacuating? Those barbarians..."

Just look at the current situation and you will know that running is the best.

But he saw Bishop Paul Feder suddenly possessed by an angel. He grabbed the sterling silver cross on his chest with his trembling right hand, kissed it hard, and then took the huge cross carried by the little priest. "You all go! God is with me and I will convince these barbarians to stop killing and convert to the right path."

The priests felt that their teacher had gone crazy. No matter how devout their faith was, could those blood-stained barbarians listen to a word now?

The unmoved young priests were reprimanded again, and they abandoned the bishop and fled in a hurry.

If the count dies, all is lost. At least the army that the count had worked so hard to assemble was defeated today. After asking themselves, the bishop felt that he had to bear a lot of responsibility for the defeat.

He felt that he had no face to return to the monastery in Ghent, so he simply faced the barbarians with the posture of a martyr, carrying the holy cross. He also muttered: "If I had known this, I should have held on to Ghent. God, it was me who encouraged them to fight. I am a sinner."

Among all the people who fled in a hurry, he was the only one who walked in the opposite direction, preaching like a preacher to the Russian soldiers who were constantly chasing and whose shields were stained with blood.

Although no one listened to the old man's nonsense, this man's bold move actually shocked everyone.

"What is this monk doing? Is he really not afraid of death?"

"Don't kill him. The king has an order, and there will be a reward for catching the monk. This guy came in person, and we happened to kidnap him and present him to the king."

As a result, the cross carried by the bishop was stepped on by the soldiers wearing armor and bear heads. His hands and feet were tied up with ropes, and he was carried by the soldiers like a hunted deer and walked towards the fleet.

At this time, the battle in the encirclement was already at the end of garbage time.

Count Baudouin was protected by his cronies, but there were not many soldiers left in the circle.

The battle between those without armor and those with heavy armor was completely one-sided.

The shield wall of the Ross-Danish coalition was almost indestructible. Swords and spearheads were constantly protruding from the gaps, and even long-handled halberds were pecked from the sky, so that the soldiers in the circle could only passively take beatings.

The encirclement was shrinking rapidly. At this moment, Rurik did not know that the count himself was not only participating in the battle but also within the encirclement.

What he issued was an order to kill without mercy, unless the real nobles and priests were caught.

The closer we get to the end, the more stubbornly the enemies in the circle will resist.

Baudouin personally drew his sword and continued to fight, frequently encouraging his cronies with words to persist until the end for the honor of their faith.

They also fully believed that there was no possibility of surrender at this time. Those Normans would only use the prisoners of war as sacrifices to the barbarian gods, and they would die in an extremely humiliating way.

There were still more than fifty people resisting in their circle. They spontaneously formed a circular formation with tower shields stacked on top of each other. This formation indeed made it difficult for the Ross army to deploy the array.

The Ross-Danish coalition was also a little tired from the fight. There were bleeding corpses at the feet of both sides. The black mud was also dyed dark red. Not only was there a muddy smell in the air, but there was also this weird smell of rust.

Like a hunted wild boar suddenly thrown to the feet of a group of soldiers, Rurik took a good look at his bear-headed warriors and asked loudly: "You went to chase the defeated soldiers, why did you suddenly come back? This prey is a monk?"

The leader, a young and strong warrior, beat his chest with his right hand and saluted, "He must be a senior priest. He is coming towards us holding a cross. Maybe he wants to say something to you."

"Really? If you are really a senior priest, you have done a great job."

Rurik kicked the old man who was tied tightly. This man seemed to be pretending to be dead, or was in a state of being slaughtered.

"Fool. I don't want to kill you." The words were said in Latin, and such words immediately made the local bishop Paul Fede become angry.

Like a carp struggling, the old guy kept twisting and shouting. It wasn't until the soldiers held him down that his yells became clear.

Rurik was overjoyed and immediately lowered his head to ask in detail.

"I didn't expect you to be the Bishop of Ghent. Please tell me your specific identities and who this army is."

Thus, the bishop stated the matter bluntly: "Baudouin, Count of Flanders, led a large army against you. He is either dead or still fighting."

"The count is actually among the rebels?" Rurik's expression suddenly changed, and then he laughed excitedly.

He did not expect to capture Baudouin alive, but he could definitely identify the deceased as the Count himself from an unusually dressed corpse.

"I also thought that I should attack Ghent directly to force him to recognize my arrangements in the Netherlands. If he is dead, I don't have to negotiate." Rurik said to himself and thought for a moment. He felt that there was no need to negotiate with Baudouin on anything. In this era where the fist is king, although war is a continuation of politics, all forces believe that war is a shortcut to solving problems, and Rurik is not immune to this.

The bishop did not curse, but begged in Latin for an end to the killings.

"Are you worthy of negotiating terms with us?" Rurik glared with disdain, immediately scaring the bishop into shutting up.

"Indeed, I will not kill you. Your northern saint Esquier is fine in Saxony, and I am a friend of that old guy. Since you are the bishop of Ghent and are useful to me, I will take you to the north... "

Rurik said something, and the amount of information was so huge that the bishop was confused. What shocked him even more was that a blond Norman leader actually spoke fluent Latin, which was unimaginable.

"Pull him down and don't torture him."

After giving the order, Rurik decided to end the final battle in a short time.

He already knew that the last enemy had formed a formation. Since the opponents were relatively elite warriors, the Ross army might cause unnecessary casualties by attacking them forcefully. He temporarily ordered the entire army to maintain a state of confrontation. It didn't matter that the enemy would take the opportunity to take a breather. It was also good for our own side to take a rest.

Some soldiers withdrew and took on special missions.

Thirty torque slingshots were fired once from the front and quickly pushed to the rear, and were not used after that.

They were put to use again, and now each slide was equipped with a cast-iron bullet. After charging, the soldiers pushed them towards the outside of the encirclement.

The soldiers were ordered to clear a wide path, and Rurik and Ragnar stood in front of the formation with solid and terrifying steps.

One special man became a very critical sounding board.

Henry Nassau, because he is good at speaking Frank, now is the time for him to make a procedural speech to persuade him to surrender.

With the King of Ross and the King of Denmark by his side, Henry Nassau was very confident at this moment.

"Soldiers of Flanders! You have no chance! Standing in front of you are the King of Denmark and the King of Ross. They are very brave Norman kings. They promise to protect your lives as long as you lay down your weapons."

It was in Frankish language. Hearing this, Baudouin became even more angry. He yelled: "Which Frank noble betrayed his faith and betrayed your king? He actually surrendered to the Norman pirates! I am Count Baudouin of Flanders!" I would rather die fighting than surrender to the barbarians.”

Is it Count Baudouin himself? !

Henry Nassau realized the crisis and hurriedly informed Rurik after interpreting this important event.

"Baudouin...a proud count?"

"Maybe he is arrogant, we should capture him. Even if he... would rather die than surrender."

"No." Rurik shook his head, "He sought death on his own."

As a result, those torsion slingshots were placed in front of the formation, and the Russian troops, who were afraid of being accidentally injured, relaxed their encirclement.

The last Flanders soldier holding the shield realized that the situation was not good, but unfortunately there was no way to retreat.

Rurik's eyes were bloodshot. He took off his helmet in the hope that Count Baudouin could take a good look at his face before he was killed.

A strong man stood here, his golden ponytail was wet and noticeable in the light rain, and his neatly trimmed beard was dripping with water.

"shooting!"

With a single command, the execution begins.

The projectiles smashed into the soldiers' shields at close range, the Flanders soldiers were penetrated through their bodies, and the once solid shield wall was riddled with holes.

But these elite followers built walls with flesh and blood for their beliefs, making it easy for Baudouin to deliver a fatal blow to the crotch.

At this point, there were only a few living people. When Baudoin looked around, he was surrounded by Normans' eager eyes and corpses on the ground.

"It's strange that someone didn't die." Ragna muttered disdainfully.

"Don't worry. Next is the crossbow shooting, and the final enemy will definitely die."

It was at this time that Henry Nassau saw someone among the last enemies who was well-dressed, and it was so well-dressed that even mud could not hide it.

"Earl? Is the earl there? If you are still alive, this is your last chance." Nassau asked loudly.

Now, Baudouin saw his followers dying tragically in front of him. Their bodies were smashed with flesh and blood by the projectiles fired by strange weapons. The death of each of them was extremely miserable.

He didn't want to surrender, but the trembling of his body could no longer be stopped by his mind.

He was frightened, his teeth were chattering, his rough face was convulsing, and his sword-holding hand was like Parkinson's disease.

He was unable to respond, even to curse.

Henry Nassau, who felt more and more strange, hurriedly blocked Rurik's arrow formation.

"King of Ross, that's enough. There is probably a great nobleman hiding there. Why do you need to kill him now? You only need to send a few people to capture them all alive."

"Get out of the way." Rurik pushed him directly, still wanting to give death to these enemies who begged for mercy.

Unexpectedly, Nassau said something like this: "At least I have to find the great nobleman of the County of Flanders and ask him to recognize that the Netherlands, including Utrecht and Groningen, belongs to my County. Otherwise, they will definitely There will be frequent harassment, which will not be good for you. Their great nobles may be there."

"Is that so? That's fine."

Rurik finally terminated the execution, which frustrated the soldiers who had planned to watch the show.

A group of soldiers walked away aggressively, and immediately disarmed several enemies who were busy trembling, and escorted them directly to Rurik.

Nassau continued to question the escorted people: "Now we can talk properly. Which one of you is the great noble, is it you?"

He asked directly at an old guy who was the most well-dressed, and then took off his iron helmet with his own hands, revealing his true appearance.

A ferocious middle-aged man with bared teeth showed a dejected face.

"Let me die! Kill me quickly."

"Who are you? A count?" Nassau continued to ask.

But when he saw the man spitting, Rurik was so angry that he kicked him. This kick directly hit his knee, causing him to hug his leg and roll on the ground in pain.

Finally, the well-dressed man reluctantly sat down on the mud and cursed viciously: "I! I am Count Baudouin of Flanders! You are shameless invading robbers! And you, the Franks who betrayed your faith. God will punish you." For your sins, storms will destroy your fleet, and thunder will kill you. You will die soon."

There was no doubt that he was Baudoin, and Rurik nodded.

It's this guy who has a tough mouth and seems to want to die.

But Baudouin didn't have to die. Even if he was bundled into the cabin of the ship and thrown into the cabin when it arrived in Hamburg, it would be another good show.

After all, in the past, Liudov was the Count of Westphalia and Baudoin was the Count of Flanders. Their fiefdoms were completely adjacent, so they must know each other.

Just seeing each other again, everything changes.