Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 426: Chapter 57: Forming Up to Meet the Enemy_3

A messenger with green helmet tassels charged toward the militia garrison, bringing official intelligence to the Jeska Squadron:

A large contingent of Herd Cavalry was pressing in from the north; scouts had been repelled by the enemy’s light cavalry on the periphery and failed to discern the exact strength of the troops, estimating a force of several thousand cavalry.

The messenger also brought orders for the Jeska Squadron:

Proceed immediately to North Bridge, fortify and defend the bridgehead encampment.

…

The siege was suddenly called off, and rumors of all sorts spread like wildfire, leaving mid- and lower-ranking officers and soldiers in a state of unease.

But the command chain of the Paratu army was still operating normally, and the legion headquarters was issuing orders methodically, as if they had anticipated this situation.

In such times, orders became the ballast of the soldiers’ morale, providing a sense of security in their mechanical execution.

A sense of honor stirred in the hearts of the Paratu soldiers; they had time and again triumphed despite being outnumbered—they were the shield of the Alliance, an invincible iron army that never faltered in attack or in battle.

Like a fierce beast turning its head, the army began to shift its weight, preparing to meet the enemy.@@novelbin@@

Troops that had not yet engaged in battle changed direction, while the five squads that had been fighting withdrew and regrouped.

More scouts were dispatched to the wilderness, determined not to be easily driven off again.

Piaoqi Troops and mounted riflemen poured out of the camp, rushing to aid the camp on the northern shore.

General Sekler found Alpad who was armoring up: “Just sending light cavalry to the northern camp, I don’t think it’s enough.”

“I know, I’ll take the heavy cavalry,” Alpad gulped down a large mouthful of strong liquor, casually stuffing the flat silver flask into his breastplate.

The major general’s face was flushed slightly from the rush of blood, and if not for the wrinkles and greying at the temples, it would be hard to imagine that this Paratu man was already past fifty.

Two infantry squadrons were encamped on the northern bank of Confluence River, positioned there to block the ingress and egress to the north of Bianli City.

Now, facing the enemy reinforcements, they were the first to face the onslaught.

“If it’s just to deal with the vanguard of the Herders, light cavalry is enough,” Sekler paused: “But to stop the reinforcements from entering the city, or to prevent the Red River Tribe from breaking through, the northern camp needs to be reinforced. It’s now of utmost importance and must be overseen by someone.”

“Hmm?” Alpad raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take the men,” Sekler said gravely: “I’ll take the reserves that haven’t been committed to the siege to the northern camp. Before, we only had to prevent the Herders from coming out, but now we also have to stop the enemy from getting in, so the southern camp must be also fortified. Let that boy Jeska dig the blockade trenches, his men are good at this.”

Alpad laughed heartily: “Then it should be me taking men to the northern camp. You’ve always been in charge of the central forces, the main camp can’t function without you.”

“No, that was before General Yanosh was incapacitated,” Sekler replied with a piercing gaze: “You are now the highest-ranking officer, the commander of an army, you can’t charge around as you please anymore. The Herders are all cavalry, tactically they have the initiative. But if they are to relieve Bianli, strategically they’re at a disadvantage. Our chance for victory… lies exactly there.”

…

…

The west wind howled, and the clouds obscured the sun.

Three thousand Paratu soldiers crossed the wooden bridge, advancing toward the northern encampment.

A thunderous roar of hoofbeats came from the north; a scout waved his helmet, dashing madly toward General Sekler.

His mouth was agape, but his shouts were completely drowned out by the sound of the hooves.

Suddenly, a figure of a Herd Cavalry appeared on the slope’s ridge line behind the scout, followed by two, ten, a hundred…

Countless Herd Cavalry leapt from the reverse slope, whistling as they charged toward the Paratu column.

“Is this an attempt to ‘surround a point for aid’?” General Sekler sneered.

Military horns sounded, the war drums boomed.

Right in front of the countless Herd Barbarians’ eyes, six infantry squadrons executed a series of complex formation shifts.

Backed by the Confluence River, the Paratu soldiers formed up to face the enemy.

“I am in the formation!” Sekler raised his glaive high above from horseback, his voice amplified by the Spellcasters and reaching everyone: “If I retreat a single step—behead me!”

The soldiers all fixed their eyes on the general’s helmet tassel, falling into sudden silence.

“Long live!” Someone suddenly shouted.

“Long live!” More and more people joined the cheer.

“Long live!” All voices merged into one: “Long live!”

Accompanied by the deafening roar of the battle cry, Sekler dismounted and strode into the square formation.

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