Chapter 388: Nation of a Dead Noble (3)
While Brittany was in the midst of dominating the first round.
The cavalry unit led by Baroness Juliana de Blanc clashed with the enemy’s cavalry on the right flank. The edges of the plains resounded with the thundering hooves of horses. Tens of thousands of infantrymen advanced steadily, one step at a time, as they listened to the thundering hooves.
The battle smoothly transitioned into the next stage.
“Begin singing.”
The officers repeated my order. Once they did, our civilian militia of 4,000 raised their voices simultaneously. The songs that flowed from the mouths of the militia born and raised in Sardinia were, naturally, Sardinian songs.
The enemy became more bewildered as they approached us. They had left their homes and stepped onto this perilous battlefield to fight against foreign invaders, not to harm their own people. The hesitation in the enemy’s formation was visible.
“We are not your enemies! The Duke of Milano is the traitor!”
“Brothers, there is no reason for us to kill our fellow countrymen!”
“La Spezia was abandoned!”