Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 292 Space
“I don’t need to say anything more.” Ronald’s voice echoed through the quiet forest: “You came here because your daughter, wife, and mother are on that little riverbank!”

Standing before Ronald were hundreds of fathers, husbands, and sons, all burning with rage, ranging in age from forty or fifty to fifteen or sixteen.

A small number of them had knives, spears, bows and arrows, but most of them only had sticks with the bark still attached.

Without exception, everyone gripped their weapons tightly, until their knuckles turned white.

“The tribes of Hart are like clumsy thieves,” Brother Saul once asserted. “They set out full of confidence and insatiable greed. But once they actually get something good, they become terrified and will flee at the slightest disturbance. The Teldonians will be at their most vulnerable when they return.”

As Brother Saul said, the wealthy Teldun leaders were almost impatient to take away the women, livestock, and valuables they had captured.

Ronald watched helplessly as the Teldenans selected the crossing point, divided up the camp, and gathered the sheepskin rafts...

Meanwhile, men from Ha Tie Feng County, still possessing the courage to fight, continued to arrive at this place from various secret camps.

Brother Saul urged Ronald to be patient and wait until half of the Teldenans had crossed the river.

But for Ronald, the fact that the Telden people were halfway across the river meant that hundreds or thousands of Paratus would be captured.

He can't wait for that moment; he has to strike now.

“Once you cross that river,” Ronald’s cheekbones were stained with two streaks of blood, “your daughters, wives, and mothers will be driven into the wasteland like livestock, becoming slaves to the heretics! Never, never, never to return!”

Covering one's face with blood-stained patterns was originally a custom of the Platu clan, signifying that the person who applied the pattern bore immense shame. However, at this moment, regardless of bloodline, religion, or origin, all the men in the forest wore blood-stained patterns.

After leaving the Army Academy, Ronald worked in a civilian position for many years, and public speaking was not his forte.

He took the lance from Adam and briefly concluded his mobilization: "Whoever wants to give his wife and daughters to the barbarians of Hart, stay here. Whoever wants to kill the barbarians of Hart, come with me!"

……

As the people of Tiefeng County roared and charged toward the ferry, sixty kilometers to the northeast, the vanguard of the Terdun tribe, Da Nayan, and the uncle of the fire-roasting man [Tai Chi] were also fiercely attacking Tushechang.

Time and space—how ordinary yet how wondrous things they are.

They do not change according to human will, yet both sides in the war are desperately trying to acquire them.

Ronald was racing against time; he had to defeat the barbarians at the ferry crossing before enemy reinforcements arrived, or he would be the one annihilated.

Taichi was in the same boat. Every time he wasted the time it took to smoke a pipe, the power of Terdun’s great outflanking maneuver diminished. He wanted to capture Tushechang before the Iron Peak County army could react.

The struggle for time is essentially a struggle for space, which is the wonder of war.

After the first two attacks, Taichi had determined that the garrison at Tushechang was not elite—only four or five hundred men, no armored soldiers, and not even a single musket.

As more troops arrived, Taichi's forces gained an overwhelming advantage.

Conquering cities and capturing strongholds was not the forte of the Hede tribes, but Taichi had seen it many times and had accumulated some experience.

Faced with barricades, fences, and trenches, the warhorses that the tribes regarded as extensions of limbs were not only useless, but also became a hindrance.

Therefore, Taichi concentrated his armored men to dismount and fight on foot, launching a strong attack on the barricades from the left and right flanks, while providing cover with powerful archers.

Meanwhile, Taichi selected three cavalry units of one hundred men each, which traversed mountains and forests to swim across the river upstream.

On the one hand, they cut off Tushechang's retreat route, and on the other hand, they launched a feigned attack on the towns upstream to draw away the troops of Tiefeng County.

In the third wave of the offensive, Tai Chi was determined to succeed.

Just as Tai Chi had predicted, the defenders of Tushechang were tenacious, but they were outnumbered and unable to defend one area at a time.

Before the flanking force even arrived, the two-legged defenders who had been evading the field had already collapsed.

However, [Gerard's Bud] would probably disagree with the term "collapse".

The Telden men came with great force, so Bard organized his men to retreat in an orderly manner according to the original plan.

The wounded had already been evacuated before dawn, and Bader personally led most of the militia and the newly wounded to retreat to the northeastern wilderness.

The remaining militia, led by Anglu, covered the rear.

After the Teldens stormed the camp, Anglu set fire to the fortifications and the woods along the riverbank, and led his cavalry, carrying militiamen who could not ride horses, along the road toward Little Rock.

What is Winters doing at this time, having arrived on the battlefield last night?
He is killing people.

“Lance!” Winters stretched his hand behind him.

Charles, who was holding a short javelin, immediately untied his lance and handed it to Winters in perfect unison.

Winters raised his lance and swung it down sharply, the swallowtail banner on the lance fluttering: "Push them into the river!"

His roar echoed through the mountains and rivers.

The buglers sounded the attack melody, and the small drums of each infantry company followed suit.

The soldiers, spears held level, marched towards the enemy to the rapid beat of the drums.

The road connecting Tushechang and Xiaoshizhen is a narrow road sandwiched between earthen cliffs and the Pangtuo River, a terrain described as "mountains and rivers side by side".

On this narrow road, less than 30 meters wide at its widest point and less than 10 meters wide at its narrowest, the three Teldun Hundreds, who intended to outflank the enemy, met their doom.

The battle was like catching a thief in a narrow alley.

Blocking the south was the Fifth Company stationed in Xiaoshi Town, and blocking the north was the Sixth Company personally led by Winters.

The still-alive Terdun barbarian was trapped between the river, the earthen cliffs, and two forests of spears, with his space for maneuvering becoming increasingly smaller.

Desperate, the Teldun barbarians fought back, repeatedly charging the lines of the 5th and 6th companies, but all their attempts ended in failure—the warriors of Winters were not to be trifled with by a few daredevil Teldun men.

The soldiers and centurions at the front were clad in armor, and the arrows of the Teldun could hardly harm them.

Some desperate Teldun people rushed toward the Torrent River, trying to wade back to the west bank.

The other Teldenans, however, refused to go into the water no matter what. They swam to the east bank, and no one wanted to experience the feeling of being immersed in the icy cold river again.

Besides, many Teldenans had already drowned on their way here. Swimming back now? They'd rather die a quick death by a blade!

Some of the barbarians, in a moment of desperation, abandoned their warhorses, climbed the earthen cliff on the east side of the road, and fled into the mountains.

Winters watched as the panicked Telden men jumped into the river and climbed up the earthen cliffs, then turned to the bugler and gave the order: "Charge!"

The bugler was slightly stunned at first, but quickly came to his senses, puffed out his cheeks, and his face turned red as he played another melody.

Upon hearing the charge music, the snare drums of each company responded in succession, the rhythm of the drums suddenly accelerating from eighty beats per minute to one hundred and twenty beats per minute. Many soldiers on both the north and south lines were separated due to their inability to react in time, causing the lines to become loose and chaotic.

However, the Terdon barbarians, their fighting spirit broken and only thinking about escaping, no longer had the ability to take advantage of the situation.

The out-of-position soldiers quickly caught up with the line, and the battle line became complete and unbreakable once again.

Winters had no complaints about this.

There are basically two types of military operations:
One type is a chaotic battle involving a hundred or so people, with no formation or order to speak of. Its momentum is like a sudden storm, and the contest is about courage, martial arts skills, and the voice of the commander.

Another type is when thousands of troops are arrayed in the wilderness, where the brave cannot advance alone and the cowardly cannot retreat alone; what matters is discipline, willpower, and teamwork.

Winters only commanded a large army in battle once, and that was at the gates of Bianli.

Moreover, at that time he was only an advisor; the decision-makers and implementers were others.

Since the establishment of the Wolftown Army, Winters had never fought a real "battle", and his troops naturally had not accumulated any experience in large-scale battles.

On the contrary, Winters' company commanders and sergeants were all veterans who had fought their way up – that is, "self-taught".

They are proficient in the former type of warfare: a hundred or so people, a limited battlefield, surprise attacks or counter-surprise attacks, short time but high intensity.

Like carrying a bucket with a short plank to put out a fire, Winters' immediate concern wasn't how to fix the short plank, but rather how to better utilize the existing bucket to hold more water.

Winters's pocket tightened more and more, as if some barrier had shattered, and the desperate Teldonians abandoned their warhorses and scrambled toward the low cliff.

Compared to swimming across, the chances of escaping into the mountains and forests are always greater.

The cliff was less than three meters high, and a small, thin slave named Teldun was able to reach the top of it with just a few steps.

This skinny Teldun slave was named [Monkey], and true to his name, he was as agile as a monkey.

The monkey thought he was saved. He hung on the edge of the cliff, feeling around at the grass at the top, trying to find a place to climb up.

Suddenly, a piercing, bone-scraping pain shot through my hand, followed by a second blow.

The monkey was horrified to lose sensation in his right hand. In the excruciating pain, he could even feel blood gushing from his wrist.

The monkey screamed pitifully, clutching its broken wrist as it fell heavily to the ground, its right hand still clinging to the low cliff.

The weapon that severed the monkey's right hand was a small, not very sharp axe.

Before this, the axe had mostly been leaning against a clay stove, occasionally used to chop firewood.

The one holding the axe was a small, thin Plato boy, about the same age as the monkey.

Coincidentally, this boy named Paul also has a nickname, "Little Monkey," which is what his mother calls him.

The little monkey's mother was kidnapped by barbarians, and his father sent him to the north bank of the Pangtuo River, but he returned to Xia Tiefeng County to join the militia.

The little monkey chopped off a barbarian's hand twice.

The barbarian screamed as he fell off the cliff. The little monkey saw that the thin, broken, blood-stained hand was twitching slightly, as if it were still connected to its owner's wrist.

Aside from the thrill of revenge, the little monkey felt nothing but endless fear.

He glared and shouted—as if he were the one whose hand had been cut off—and swung the axe at the severed hand, chopping it several times with all his might.

He was awakened by a slap from another older militiaman.

The older militiaman didn't have time to say anything to the little monkey. After slapping the monkey, he swung his mace and smashed it against the barbarian's head that was sticking out from the edge of the cliff.

One after another, Telden men fell from the low cliff. Some were pushed down as corpses, while others were knocked down alive.

Winters remained expressionless—the militia had arrived late, but at least they had come.

If the Tiefeng County Infantry Regiment only lacked experience in large-scale battles, then the temporarily recruited militia were completely incapable of direct combat.

The militia is only suitable for disrupting the enemy and striking hard on those who are already in trouble.

While the Fifth and Sixth Companies were fighting in formation on the main road, Winters sent the militia into the mountains to intercept the fleeing enemy remnants.

With nowhere to go but to heaven and nowhere to go, the remaining Teldun people's will completely collapsed. They threw away their bows, arrows, and spears, and prostrated themselves on the riverbank, crying and pleading.

The Parat people couldn't understand what the barbarians were saying, but they wouldn't misjudge what the barbarians wanted to do.

The bugler looked at the Tribune of Montagne, the drummer looked at the Tribune of Montagne, and many people looked at the figure under the military flag, intentionally or unintentionally.

But Winters kept his lips tightly pressed together and didn't say a word until all the Teldenans were pushed into the Torrent River.

Leaving a small group of militiamen to clean up the battlefield and monitor the riverbank, Winters led the Fifth Company, the Sixth Company, and other militiamen straight to the northernmost end of the mountain road [Tushechang-Xiaoshizhen].

There, another fierce battle was taking place.

Seeing the floating corpses drifting down from the upper reaches of the Pangtuo River, Taichi knew the fate of the three hundred-cavalry units.

For the Herd tribes, the three hundred-man squads were not just three hundred men; the destruction of one hundred-man squad was almost equivalent to the annihilation of an entire family.

Even though Taichi had seen this kind of thing many times before, he still had an indescribable feeling.

However, Taechi has no time to mourn the three Kotas now, because he has run into a wall.

It was a solid wall that stretched from east to west, blocking his way—and a trench.

"Where did this moat come from?!" Tai Chi roared furiously, his eyes bloodshot. He grabbed a man with a blue feather on his robe and roared like thunder: "Beyond the training ground is an open racecourse! You told me that! You swore that! You saw it with your own eyes!"

“Nayan! When I crossed the river to investigate yesterday, here… here…” Qing Lingyu’s face was ashen, and she was so anxious that her voice even trembled with tears: “There really is no such wall here! There really isn’t! I swear to the gods! I swear by breaking an arrow! If I’m lying, may I be shot to death by a hail of arrows! May I be trampled to death by ten thousand horses! It must be the two-legged people! It must be them, they built the wall overnight!”

Enraged, Tai Chi swung his fist and knocked Qing Lingyu over with one punch: "Nonsense! Madness! Did a two-legged man build a wall overnight?!"

Qing Lingyu swallowed a mouthful of blood and suddenly realized: "That's right! It's true! A wall built overnight! Not a wall, but a city built overnight! They must have used sorcery, just like the singer sang! Monsters! The two-legged people invited monsters to build a city overnight!"

Tai Chi could no longer bear to listen to such insane talk, and kicked Qing Lingyu hard in the jaw, causing the latter to immediately faint.

However, even if Tai Chi drew his sword and killed Qing Lingyu on the spot, the wall in front of him would still be a real thing.

The wall silently observed this farce, its wordless attitude akin to the most vicious mockery.

Just as Taichi's men crashed into the wall, sixty kilometers to the southwest, the battle for the ferry crossing entered its most brutal phase—close combat.

[Sorry, sorry, sorry, I've redefined "tonight (in a broad sense)"]
[I wrote until 6:30, and I've only written a little over 1,700 words... My efficiency is terrifyingly low.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)