The scorching sun was setting slightly, but its heat remained undiminished. The ground was still blazing hot, the air still dry, mixed with a pungent smell of gunpowder.
Facing the tight defensive line formed by hundreds of Tuscany soldiers combined with various fortifications, a squad of Venice soldiers, led by their captain, showed no fear. No matter how their comrades behind them shouted or how the enemies in front warned them, their steps did not slow down in the slightest.
Thinking of his unconscious younger brother on the high platform, the captain's eyes reddened, and his steps quickened a few more points, intent on not resting until Tuscany was forced to release him. In the blink of an eye, he had entered within fifty meters of the Tuscany defensive line.
The Venetians finally took the bait. Riccardo's lips curved into an arc, and his eyes gleamed with a ferocious light, like a bloodthirsty mako shark, eager to devour the prey that had delivered itself to him.
Without needing to say more, the thousand-plus Tuscany soldiers who had not been deployed into the defensive line began to surge forward slowly and orderly. The front-rank soldiers, under the command of the standard-bearer, uniformly raised their already loaded muskets.
With a single command, dozens of muskets fired in unison, the gunshots shaking the heavens, and smoke billowed over the Tuscany Camp's defensive line.
The squad of Venice soldiers, upon seeing the Tuscany soldiers raise their guns, finally hesitated for a moment. Yet, before they could even slow down, they were struck by bullets coming from all directions, swaying like broken puppets, accompanied by splashes of bright red liquid.
Their fragile bodies completely lost vital signs in an instant. The few who had just been acting recklessly turned into grotesque corpses, their limbs twisted, lying on the ground, blood flowing freely.
The opponent had fired without any warning. Witnessing their comrades die so tragically and inexplicably, after a brief shock, the Venetians' rage could no longer be suppressed, and rationality was cast aside. From officers to soldiers, almost everyone was venting their anger in their own way.
Some soldiers fired their guns into the sky in protest, while others charged forward, stopping at a safe distance outside the Tuscany soldiers' firing range, roaring and shooting at the opposing side.
The reason they stayed out of range was simple: everyone knew that if they entered the opponent's range, their fate would be no better than that of their recently fallen comrades. However, Venice's muskets did not have a longer range than Tuscany's, so such shooting was merely for show.
Some generals no longer heeded their superiors' orders, forming battle formations of varying sizes, just waiting for someone to rally them before charging forward together to make the Tuscany people pay in blood.
Other generals still adhered to their superiors' instructions, doing their utmost to restrain the soldiers, but were instantly submerged by the overwhelming rage of the crowd. In some places, their own men had already started fighting amongst themselves.
Pisani had long expected that the few who charged forward would meet a grim fate, but he hadn't anticipated Riccardo being so decisive, shooting them without hesitation, directly igniting the rage of his own soldiers and putting him in such a passive position.
"All units, prepare for battle!" After a brief thought, Pisani quickly made a decision, grabbing a megaphone and roaring in a voice close to despair.
Unlike the Papal States' army, which had been trained by Karl and Duke and had undergone sufficient time for cohesion, among these several thousand Venice soldiers, only a few hundred were Pisani's direct subordinates. Many others had been temporarily conscripted from various regions.
Not only were the soldiers undisciplined, but even the generals did not all obey Pisani implicitly; they themselves had insufficient control over their cobbled-together troops. Under such circumstances, it had already been extremely difficult to control the situation by relying on his years of accumulated prestige.
At this moment, Pisani knew that the soldiers' emotions had completely boiled over, and whether he was willing to fight or not, a war was inevitable. The difference was, if he took on the responsibility of commanding, he could still maintain some control over the army; if he continued to endure, it would not only be unachievable but would also cause the entire army to completely lose control and even turn against him.
For a moment, Pisani even regretted not having properly restrained his soldiers earlier, allowing the conflict to escalate to an irreconcilable point. But then he reconsidered, thinking that perhaps it wasn't his fault; since the other side had long harbored ill intentions, they would surely find an excuse to cause trouble.
Upon hearing Pisani finally order preparation for battle, the Venice soldiers were all encouraged and stopped causing trouble. To fight the Tuscany people honorably, chaos would certainly not do; someone had to command. Since the Commander was finally willing to lead them to fight, there was no need to look far for someone whose prestige and ability were far inferior to the Commander's.
The situation, which had been on the verge of spiraling out of control, gradually improved, and order began to be restored. The officers maintaining order finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, a few disturbances continued, as the troublesome soldiers had already become irreconcilable with their superiors and had no turning back.
Pisani made some quick arrangements, dispatching a portion of his direct subordinates to those areas, using both soft and hard tactics, and quickly stabilized the situation.
Then, under Pisani's successive orders, the various Venice units rapidly mobilized in an orderly fashion. The Venice Camp, which had just been in disarray, soon presented itself as well-ordered squares of troops, ready for action.
At the same time, the deployment in the rear of Tuscany had also been completed, constructing a solid defensive line relying on simple fortifications.
For a moment, there was a deafening silence on both sides of the border; this was the calm before the storm.
Although he had no choice but to fight, Pisani still held back, unwilling to engage in a mutually destructive battle with Tuscany.
In Pisani's view, the best outcome was not to truly defeat Tuscany and leave corpses strewn everywhere, as that would also be unmanageable and, in fact, impossible. Instead, it was to fight a symbolic battle, which would both preserve dignity and consume the anger of his own soldiers.
Once the Tuscany people were sufficiently hurt and his own side was tired from fighting, there would inevitably be an opportunity for a ceasefire and rest. As soon as the fighting stopped, he would immediately reorganize his army and return to Venice; this troublesome place could absolutely not be stayed in any longer.
Upon returning, he would claim that Tuscany had colluded with the Papal States to conspire against Venice, going to great lengths to set a trap, intending to deplete Venice's vital forces. If Tuscany attacked, it would confirm his suspicions, and his timely escape with his army would not only be blameless but meritorious; even if Tuscany did not attack, as long as he insisted that the opponent abandoned their actions because their conspiracy was exposed, Tuscany would be unable to prove itself innocent.
Coincidentally, Tuscany was also not going all out. Riccardo's starting point from the beginning was merely to teach Venice a lesson and vent his anger. The reckless provocation was only to force the Venetians to act, and it was not as complicated as Pisani thought. Although Karl had vouched for him, he had truly not considered wiping out the opponent.
Therefore, both sides, with a tacit understanding, did not use heavy weapons or send out elite cavalry, but merely confronted each other on both sides of the camp boundary, primarily forming defensive lines and squares with pikemen and musketeers.