Seeing the two stuck galleys, one flying the Rurik Trident and a cross, and the other engulfed in flames, the remaining active Bulgar ships chose to scatter.
For them, failure was inevitable, and there was no longer any need to persist; scattering became the most correct choice, as it would at least preserve their lives.
Akad was very strict with deserters, but they didn't care; as long as they had a ship, where on the Volga River couldn't they go? At worst, they could go south to the Caspian Sea and become pirates.
After dealing with these ships, Meshko's movements did not stop; he then walked across the precarious "bridge" and arrived at the East Bank.
The arrival of Meshko and his subordinates undoubtedly provided a backbone for the Nomads on the East Bank who had fallen into chaos due to Varu's death.
Under Meshko's encouragement, everyone bravely charged the Bulgars they faced.
The greatest outcome of this charge was opening up communication between Sokar's unit and the rear army, immediately greatly reducing Sokar's pressure; he had charged too far ahead earlier and almost found himself surrounded when the Bulgar fleet attacked.
However, it was precisely his fierce fighting that held the line, preventing the Bulgars from exerting too much pressure; otherwise, even Yegor's Moscow Camp would have fallen into a bitter struggle.
Meanwhile, at the second pontoon bridge, Anton, the fourth son of the Sherikhov Family, and Selim of the Dulu Family were fighting at the end of the pontoon bridge.
Anton was currently ganging up on this splendidly armored Bulgar prince with a mercenary captain named Radko, who was the first to come to Andreyev Fortress's aid back then.
It was thanks to his subordinates that The Sherikhov Family survived that chaotic period.
Facing the two men's encirclement, Selim showed no fear, and his movements were calm and natural, completely devoid of the awkwardness of being attacked by two people.
Selim had the capital to be arrogant; his martial arts were his greatest capital for arrogance, and because of this, he always longed to perform on the battlefield.
However, what he didn't expect was that he would mess things up the first time he participated in such a large battle.
Moreover, the two Rus people in front of him were not weak; one had a decent and strict sword style, typical of a nobleman's swordsmanship.
The other was a mercenary who had been fighting on battlefields for an unknown amount of time, not caring about any tactics; his lower body had been attacked several times by this fellow.
Even more commendable was that this mercenary showed no desire to steal credit; he was content to be a supporting character beside that Rus, focusing on coordinating his attacks and covering his weaknesses.
This caused Selim to feel a strong sense of annoyance; he had originally intended to quickly kill these two and continue leading his subordinates forward, but now he was damnably held back.
And without a leader, the unit composed of guards and sailors obviously lost its sharp edge; under attack, they could only barely hold their defensive line.
People fought in the water, the river already stained with blood, and more bodies were falling, more people were dying.
Moreover, the sounds of fighting on the galleys behind them grew louder and louder, and these increasingly loud voices did not belong to the Bulgars.
Selim knew that more Rus had arrived on the other side of the pontoon bridge, and it was clear that the galleys could not be held.
Thinking this, the Bulgar prince couldn't help but become anxious, but being anxious easily leads to mistakes, and making a mistake leads to trouble.
After skillfully parrying the incoming blow, Selim suddenly realized that the mercenary had taken the opportunity to slash at him, and just as he was parrying again, he found that the mercenary had directly changed from slashing to thrusting.
This greatly alarmed Selim; it was too late to change his blade stance now, so he could only hope his armor was sturdy enough.
But then, the weakest part of his arm's armor ring directly took the blow; amidst the shattering iron ring, he felt an unprecedented sharp pain.
However, Selim was indeed Akad's son; encountering such intense pain instead activated his somewhat numb nerves.
He instinctively punched the mercenary with his other hand, knocking him directly into the water beside him, stirring up a spray of blood.
"Now it's just you and me, Rus!"
The sharp sword that had pierced him had fallen into the water with its owner; then Selim swung his ornate scimitar at Anton.
Without Radko's restraint, Anton was completely at a disadvantage against Selim.
Selim swung the scimitar like a windmill, which was the most correct way to use a scimitar—to kill with the blade.
Anton became increasingly disheveled; although he had often been taught swordsmanship by his father when he was young, his swordsmanship was ultimately honed in Constantinople, taught by a retired cavalry captain who had long fought Arabs on the eastern frontier.
That captain had also spoken about how to fight enemies wielding scimitars, but unfortunately, Anton hadn't listened at all.
At that time, his attitude towards swordsmanship was simply that it was good enough if it worked, and now he regretted it immensely, truly immensely.
Amidst the clash of blades, Anton's momentum grew weaker and weaker; he was completely suppressed by Selim, and if this continued, he would surely die.
Selim's face also showed great satisfaction; as long as he took care of this fellow, he could lead his subordinates to continue the charge, disrupting the Rus formation while also returning to his own lines.
What could be better than this?
Finally, Anton's weakness was seized, and just as the next strike was about to finish off this Rus, Selim felt a sudden sharp pain in his foot.
He looked down to see that the mercenary he had knocked down earlier had somehow gotten back up, and more importantly, he now had a dagger plunged into his calf; the armor had failed to stop the blow.
This naturally caused Selim's swing to slow down, and Anton would not miss this opportunity; a slowdown meant an open guard, and he immediately slashed at Selim's loosened gorget.
Earlier on the ship, Selim felt the gorget was too tight, so he simply loosened it.
He believed no one could threaten him, so whether he had a gorget or not didn't matter.
And now, he paid the price for his arrogance, a bloody price.
Blood gushed out with that strike, flowing into the already incredibly murky river water beneath his feet; then he clutched the wound on his throat and knelt down.
"Bastard…"
These were his last words, but unfortunately, he didn't even finish them before he was mercilessly knocked down by a group of surging Rus soldiers.
Then they began to snatch his splendid armor; it was full of gold, silver, and jewels!