Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

"Buzz buzz buzz!..."

"Neigh! Neigh neigh!"

The neighing of the warhorses occasionally resonated in the expeditionary army camp near the port, echoing with the horses of the Church Knight Order on the ships. The Royal Knights took off their ceremonial decorative armor, the emblem of the Castilla Lion shining brightly on their shoulder plates. After removing their armor, they did not rush to eat, but instead prioritized attending to their most important partners, their warhorses.

"Almighty! This port of Seville is indeed extraordinarily filthy! This stinking mud... doesn’t the city council send people to manage it?..."

"Ha! The city council has always only cared about collecting taxes at the port. Nobody wants to deal with costly matters like cleaning up the dung... Este, why don’t you voice your opinions to Sir Corredor, the Royal representative newly dispatched by the Queen to Seville? Ask him to arrange for street cleaning?..."

"Well... forget it! The Queen sent Sir Corredor here to gather supplies for the Italian war... matters like hygiene aren’t on the Sir’s mind. Once the fleet sets sail tomorrow, we probably won’t return, so let’s endure it..."

Young Knight Este complained as he took out a mane brush, carefully brushing off the clumps of mud and dung on the horse’s body. The warhorse’s hot sweat had not yet dried, and it couldn’t be washed with water as it could cause illness, so he could only brush it clean. After meticulously brushing the horse’s body, he then scattered dry pods and oats feed, adding a bit of salted water, intimately feeding his "partner." The tall Andalusian warhorse, with a lively gaze, first licked Este’s face at shoulder height before lowering its head to slowly eat the food and water.

"By the way! Before heading south this time, I heard that Baron Gonzalo’s Italian expeditionary army suffered a defeat in Southern Italy?"

"Yes, Este, this was four or five months ago. I think it happened in a place called ’The Seed Field,’ yes, it’s called ’Seminar.’ Baron Gonzalo’s expeditionary army was doing well in the mountains, the French couldn’t catch him or handle him. Even King Charles had ’retreated’ north, leaving only a commander named ’Bernard of Obini’ to lead the French Army stationed in Southern Italy..."

"Then in May this year, the anti-French Calabria nobility in Southern Italy also formed an alliance to support, numbering several thousand! Baron Gonzalo probably thought with such a sizable army, they might as well have a big battle to completely remove French control over Naples. Both sides fought fiercely around Seminar..."

The elderly knight beside shook his head, sighing with some regret.

"It’s said that at the time, the number of troops under Baron Gonzalo was twice that of the French, and his Calabria troops were more familiar with the local terrain! However, when several hundred Pardon Knights and several hundred Swiss Long Spear Soldiers charged together, these dog-shit Southern Italian nobles directly wet their pants! Thousands of Calabria troops fled at the first charge, turning and running, pursued by the Pardon Knights for ten odd miles, bodies lying everywhere..."

"These Southern Italian City-State armies were simply pig-like allies, unable to withstand a single strike from the French! After the Calabria troops retreated, the Holy War Corps of over a thousand from the Kingdom were completely exposed on both flanks and had to retreat backwards. The seven or eight lance cavalry regiments that were originally responsible for harassing and containing had to bravely cover the retreat, getting charged like dogs by the Pardon Knights, suffering particularly heavy casualties..."

"Baron Gonzalo was truly brought down by these Italian allies! His warhorse was shot dead, he fell under the horse, even the banner was captured by the Pardon Knights. If not for his trusted aides’ brave holding action or the noble knights from his hometown Colvado sacrificing themselves to save him... the Baron would’ve died in Southern Italy!..."

"What? Baron Gonzalo was an old general who fought in Holy Wars for ten years, and he was defeated by the French?! In the siege of Almeria, he was both wise and courageous... are the French Pardon Knights really that formidable? Not even veteran Holy War ranks could hold them?"

Young Este was visibly surprised, asking several questions in quick succession. The elderly knight shrugged, unable to answer, leaving the stable in silence, interrupted only by the disgruntled neighs of the warhorses.

At the same time, aboard the Holy Light, the Vice Admiral Antonio was also wide-eyed in surprise. He looked at Knight Captain Alvaro and called out.

"Almighty! Are the French Pardon Knights really that formidable? Even over twenty thousand Holy Alliance Army, relying on the Taro River and riverside highlands, couldn’t hold back the over ten thousand French on their return north? Almost twice the number and couldn’t stop them, losing two or three thousand?"

"Este, you can’t just look at the number of troops. You must know, among these ten thousand French forces, there are over twelve hundred Pardon Knights, these are heavily armed cavalry!"

"But didn’t you just say there were over four thousand cavalry from the Italian City States in the Holy Alliance Army too? Especially the cavalry from Venice and Milan, I’ve heard their armor is especially good, true plate armor for heavy cavalry."

"Ha! Heavy cavalry from Italian City States? These noble knights of the city-states are just like the silver-speared ceremonial guards we use. Looks glittering silver, but breaks at a single stab... their combat effectiveness can’t compare to the French! Otherwise it wouldn’t have only taken half a year for the French to sweep through the entire Italian Peninsula. Only the Balkan Cavalry hired by the Venetians are fierce enough, along with the Austrian reinforcements sent by Emperor Maximilian, that can compare to the Holy War Corps we support... and except for the crossbowmen, both infantry and cavalry of the Italian City-State local armies aren’t great, unable to hold the line..."