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Chapter 361: Horse Artillery Shows Its Might Again

The Guards Corps, however, maintained their strict formation, executing rapid three-rank volleys while steadily advancing.

Under the powerful, machine-like efficiency and precision of this assault, the Hanoverian army's hastily formed infantry lines finally splintered into three segments.

On the kilometer-wide battlefield, every few minutes, a "chunk" of Hanoverian soldiers, ignoring their officers' desperate pleas, would toss aside their weapons and flee.

Soon, even the officers began to join the retreat.

The infantry lines trailing behind the Guards Corps, not yet committed to the main assault, heard the change in the drumbeat and immediately shifted formation, fanning out to encircle the enemy from both flanks.

From a distance, Murat heard the enemy drums falter, becoming disjointed and intermittent. His heart pounded with excitement—'That means their defenses are crumbling,' he thought.

Sure enough, the battalion commander's order arrived: "Cavalry battalion, form up! Pursue the routed enemy!"

Murat squeezed his horse's flanks, waving excitedly as he bellowed, "Gentlemen, it's our turn!"

This was completely unlike the scenes often depicted in later television dramas, where cavalry would charge headlong into a hail of enemy fire, fearlessly plunging into enemy lines to wreak havoc. Throughout the long history of human warfare, cavalry's primary roles were harassment, containment, screening, and pursuit. Using expensive cavalry for a direct frontal assault was reserved only for situations where the enemy was confirmed to be weak, or when one's own side was on the verge of collapse and had no choice but to make a desperate gamble.

Now, finally, he had a chance to earn accolades!

In the last battle, he had been promoted to sergeant for bravely breaking through enemy lines. If he could dispatch a few more enemy soldiers this time, he'd be an officer upon their return!

Soon, the red uniforms of Hanoverian soldiers were visible scattered across the distant fields. Murat's Arabian warhorse carried him, charging like a wild bull into the red-clad throngs.

On the north side of Orxennes village, a cavalryman reported to Lacoste, the Horse Artillery Battalion Commander, "Two regiments of Hanoverian infantry have reached a point two kilometers to the northwest."

Lacoste glanced at his staff officer, chuckling, "If they didn't show up soon, I was planning to take a nap."

The staff officer also smiled. "We've been waiting for over forty minutes. The Hanoverians are certainly slow."

Lacoste looked into the distance. "Order everyone to adjust their gun positions. Let's give the enemy a Head-On Blow! If we can hold back their reinforcements for three hours, our cavalry will be able to destroy their cannons and supplies."

Indeed, according to the General Staff's deployment, half of the Guards Corps' main cavalry force was currently sweeping towards the Hanoverian rear column on the east flank.

Soon, cannons on the hill roared, sending over a dozen shells whistling over the Hanoverian ranks. The distance was considerable, however, and only two found their mark.

Even so, the Hanoverians were visibly shaken. They quickly retreated several hundred meters, then dispatched scouts to carefully confirm the French Artillery Battalion's position before hastily organizing Skirmisher formations to assault the battery.

However, they immediately encountered French dragoon infantry lines arrayed at the base of the hill.

The skirmishers' advance was halted by the infantry lines, and with shells continually "whizzing" down from above, the Hanoverians' initial attempt at an assault quickly failed.

Lacoste watched the enemy retreat like a tide through his Telescope, a satisfied expression on his face.

He had held his position for over an hour. At this rate, with a little more stalling, the three hours would pass quickly.

Just then, a messenger jogged up to him, saluting with his cap. "Major Bouanaba, sir, has some tactical suggestions he wishes to report to you, Battalion Commander."

"Oh?" The Artillery Battalion Commander, well aware of the young Corsican officer's sharp mind, nodded curiously. "Do tell."

Half an hour later, the Hanoverians reorganized their ranks. This time, they dutifully formed infantry lines, preparing for a direct confrontation with the French.

However, distant Hanoverian Hussars suddenly let out urgent warning calls.

Immediately, the Hanoverian commander saw through his Telescope a detachment of French cavalry... no, they were also dragging cannons, they must be Horse Artillery. They were charging directly towards his left flank, beginning to unhitch their cannons.

"Are these Frenchmen insane?!"

His eye twitched. He instantly ordered skirmishers to be organized to eliminate the cannons—he had only brought two infantry regiments as reinforcements for the rear guard and lacked sufficient cavalry to deal with artillery.

But before the Hanoverian skirmishers were even ready, the French cannons had completed a dozen volleys, hitched up their horses, and galloped away.

The Hanoverian commander nearly ground his teeth to dust, roaring orders for his infantry lines to launch a frontal assault, as the warning whistles of the Hussars echoed once more from his right flank.

Southwest of Orxennes village.

Joseph frowned, watching the red-clad soldiers on the distant farmhouse roofs through his Telescope.

The Hanoverians were quite clever; they must have anticipated being unable to face the Guards Corps head-on. So, they had only deployed two sparse infantry lines on either side of the village, scattering nearly half their soldiers within it, attempting to bog down the French in street-to-street fighting.

Meanwhile, the Guards Corps had just annihilated three isolated Hanoverian regiments and were now pressing on relentlessly toward Karl II's main force, having expended a great deal of energy.

With this dynamic at play, a direct assault on the small village would likely result in heavy casualties.

Berthier, who had evidently also spotted the problem, leaned over to suggest, "Your Highness, perhaps we should bypass the village from the west."

Joseph hesitated. He distinctly remembered seeing a small river west of the village on the map earlier.

Therefore, a detour wouldn't just add a few kilometers to their march; it would also waste a significant amount of time crossing the river.

In doing so, Karl II would likely manage to rally his troops, turning their planned flanking maneuver into a direct confrontation. Although a large portion of the Hanoverian army had already been decimated and their artillery lagged behind, they still had over ten thousand men remaining.

As for bypassing the village from the east... with the main Hanoverian force to the northwest, that would add over ten kilometers to their route, making even crossing the river a more favorable option.

Just as Joseph and Berthier were weighing the pros and cons, they suddenly heard faint cannon fire echoing from north of Orxennes village.

The two exchanged a look, their faces filled with confusion.

While it was possible for the main Hanoverian army to carry some cannons—at this time, most European armies' artillery was still attached to infantry, meaning some light artillery might follow the infantry directly instead of being in the unified transport train—who would they be shelling to the north? The Guards Corps was currently on the southwest side of the village.

"Your Highness, something's not right," Berthier said, tilting his ear towards the cannon fire. "There are at least a dozen cannons. The enemy shouldn't have that many."

Twenty minutes later, a few Hussars arrived to clarify his confusion. "Report! The Horse Artillery Battalion has launched an attack on the enemy north of Orxennes village!"