Chapter 413: Senseless Slaughter (1/2)

In the dead of night, the Cavalry of the First and Second Divisions of the Austrian Army rode out through no man's land into the fray as the Iberian forces and their foreign volunteers fled from the field of battle after witnessing the supposed fall angels from the heavens.

In reality, this chaotic sight was nothing more than Austrian flares illuminating the Iberian positions and artillery fire falling upon them. However, the superstitious medieval people of Iberia had no way of knowing of such military advancements in the hands of their enemies.

Despite this, the Iberian Catholics were so frightened from the horror they witnessed that they began to abandon their encampments and supplies as they fled for their lives, turning their backs to the Austro-Granadan alliance.

Berengar ordered his Cavalry to run down the survivors in response to this. Thus he charged into the fray once more, with a revolver in one hand and a saber in the other; he began to fire upon the fleeing Catholics as he neared their position.

A loud bang went off as the 1422 Service Revolver fired its .38 SPC projectile down range and into the back of an unsuspecting Iberian Crusader; his white surcoat was immediately stained with his blood as the projectile blasted through his armor and into his chest, reaping his soul in the process.

Immediately following this shot, Berengar's mighty steed strolled past another routing soldier where he cut down his saber and into the man's unarmored neck, where the head flung off his shoulders in a merciless decapitation.

By the King of Austria's side were the veteran forces of his Royal Guard, as well as the Austrian Hussars who unleashed their advanced weapons upon their foes as they charged forth on horseback. Those who did not use revolvers were issued with needle carbines specifically intended for Cavalry use.

The overwhelming volume of fire from the 10,000 strong cavalry forces as they advanced upon the tens of thousands of fleeing Iberians was enough to cut them into ribbons. Bodies fell into the muddied terrain where they either bled out or were crushed by the weight of the Warhorses' hooves.

To the Castilian Duke who had just recently engaged in conflict against a brutal guerilla campaign waged by the Granadan Royal Guard, it was as if hell itself had ascended from the depths and swallowed the Iberian peninsula. As he fled on foot from the Austrian Cavalry, a member of the Royal Guard rapidly caught up to his position, where he noticed the tabard on the man's torso.

Realizing that the cowardly man fleeing before him was none other than Duke Lorenzo de Benavente, the Cuirassier quickly pulled out his pistol and aimed for the man's leg, where he fired a shot. The first shot missed entirely, but the Cuirassier remained undeterred; he quickly fired another shot which once more missed.

It was not until the fifth bang had resounded from the revolver's muzzle that the bullet penetrated through the Duke's shin, fracturing the bone in the process and crippling the man. Lorenzo immediately fell into a pool of mud as the Cuirassier dismounted his horse and arrived before the once proud Duke.

As the Cuirassier approached, Lorenzo surrendered his arms and admitted defeat; as a nobleman, he was afforded the privilege of ransom. No matter how advanced the Austrian army may have become, he was sure that his feudal rights as a nobleman would be respected.

The Cuirassier bound the nobleman in ropes before dragging him off to the Trenchline. As for Berengar and the other members of his Cavalry, those who managed to escape were fortunate enough to have seized a horse from the encampment before withdrawing. The others were killed in battle or captured, much like their previous commander.

Over tens of thousands of men from the Iberian Army were disarmed and led back to the Trenchline, where they were destined to become captives of the Austro-Granadan alliance. After arriving at the trench line, the Cuirassier laid the Duke down before Berengar and his Generals, who gazed upon the man who had tormented Arnulf and the Granadan Royal Guard for some time.  Arnulf was so thoroughly enraged at the losses he had suffered over the past few months that he immediately backhanded the Castillian Duke, who had a smug expression on his face.

”You bastard, what is so funny!?!”

Lorenzo chuckled before announcing his perceived immunity.

”I am a Duke and am afforded ransom by the laws of men! You can not harm me!”

Berengar's lips curled into a wicked smile as he heard this claim before pulling out his revolver, which was now reloaded and pressing it against the man's skull. What remained of Lorenzo's army gazed in horror as they witnessed their liege's rights be violated. The young Austrian King pulled back the hammer of his weapon and began to mock the man, who immediately lost all confidence in his smug statement.

”Is that so?”

Berengar laid his finger upon the trigger as he slightly pulled it back, however before the gun could go off, Berengar grabbed ahold of the hammer and slowly laid it back down to a double-action position, where he looked upon the Duke a kind gaze as he lowered the firearm.

”You are right; you are afforded ransom...”

Duke Lorenzo sighed in relief as he witnessed Berengar's smile and merciful words, whereas Arnulf immediately began to protest this course of action. However, Berengar immediately raised his hand, silencing him in the process where his warm expression shifted to that of a demonic gaze.

”Let's play a game, shall we?

The moment Lorenzo heard these words, he immediately felt as if his soul had been plunged into the depths of hell; his lips began to waver as he struggled to find the words in his mind.