Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 842 - 88 Narrow Path
Chapter 842: Chapter 88: Narrow Path Chapter 842: Chapter 88: Narrow Path Two days ago—the most intense stages of the Siege of Revodan and the Dam Siege.
Out in the fields, the Terdon light cavalry were both surprised and delighted to find that the enemy’s main force, which had always been advancing slowly by relying on strong camps and fortifications, had finally decided to take the initiative and come out in full force.
Armed personnel and supply wagons continuously left various camps, eventually forming three columns on the plain.
The three columns moved forward concurrently, like three mighty torrents, charging towards Revodan with unyielding momentum.
“It’s truly… so…” Among those overlooking the military might on the hillside, one was so excited that he became incoherent, “Indescribable…”
The gentleman grappling for adjectives was none other than Mr. Jacob Green, the lean and tall representative of the will of Niutigu Valley.
As the only intellectual in the army who had attended grammar school and university, Jacob Green had become Winters’s temporary private secretary, responsible for drafting proclamations and correspondence on behalf of Winters.
Previously, Jacob Green had mostly experienced the cruel and bloody side of war.
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But now, as he witnessed thousands of troops slowly unfolding before his eyes, Jacob Green was internally shocked by the magnificent and mighty side of the war.
Next to the tall Mr. Green, a short, fat man commented like a general, “To move out in such columns really deserves the name of a great army.”
Needless to say, the short, fat man was Nandor Krellov, another representative of Niutigu Valley’s will.
Nandor, having been injured in a previous battle and refusing to go home to recuperate, was also brought to the headquarters for protection.
According to the short and fat Mr. Nandor’s own words, he had already missed one battle due to his injuries and did not want to miss another.
Normally, the thin gentleman would certainly have a sharp exchange with the fat gentleman.
But the current Jacob Green was utterly engrossed in his excited emotions and thus completely ignored his old adversary’s words, suddenly capturing a few sparks of inspiration: “War… the ultimate violence of mankind… a spectacular manifestation of immense power…”
The fat Mr. Nandor, somewhat confused by his words, impulsively urged his old rival: “Then you should write it down, write an epic! An epic sung by a drunken harpist in a tavern.”
The thin gentleman was startled, suddenly overwhelmed by a strong desire to write, then instantly gripped by an inexplicable fear: “I… I’m afraid I might not be able to…”
“What’s there to fear? Having something is better than nothing,” Nandor expressed a hint of regret and sorrow: “How many wars have been fought in the world? Probably countless, right? But how many are remembered? They all get glossed over with a quick stroke. When I think about how I’ll also be completely forgotten, it leaves me feeling empty inside.”
The hesitant Jacob Green gradually became resolute: “I will do my best, Mr. Krellov, to ensure that our children and grandchildren remember that someone here shed their blood.”
“Remember to add three inches to my height,” the fat gentleman said leisurely.
…
Upon learning that the bipeds of Saint Town had finally been lured out, the Fire-Tender was overjoyed.
“[Herde Language] The bipeds have fallen into the trap; they are now like foxes caught in a snare,” looking around the tent at all the Kotas, the Fire-Tender laughed loudly: “[Herde Language] Slaughter them, this place is ours for the taking! Slaves, women, goods, all are awarded to you!”
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The Kotas cheered in unison, all except the old Translator who remained silent.
…
The three columns advanced rapidly towards Revodan, and Terdon’s light cavalry wandered around the troops like specters, trying to probe their reality.
Anglu led the cavalry in attacks from all sides, vigorously driving the enemy’s scouts away from the marching route.
When the Iron Peak County cavalry returned to their columns, they looked like mythical headhunting warriors:
Banners, weaponry, and heads of the unblinking dead hung at the front of their saddles, some even brought back gold and silver ornaments hacked from the bodies.
Witnessing the separation of their kin’s bodies, the people of Terdon grew even more ruthless.
They chopped off the heads of the Iron Peak County dead, hoisted them high on long spears, displaying them to the marching Iron Peak County militia, even charging close to the columns to flaunt their valor.
The vast army of tens of thousands rolled forward along the foothills of Iron Peak County, the closer they got, the more ferocious the cavalry skirmishes between the scouts became.
The cavalry from both armies chased and fought each other on plains, hills, and rugged terrain, fighting to the death.
Winters placed his headquarters on horseback, with clerks, copyists, and messengers all equipped with multiple warhorses; wherever he went, that’s where the headquarters would be.
When the vanguard was less than twenty kilometers from Revodan, Winters finally received news of the enemy:
“The vanguard of the left column has encountered the barbarian scouts!”
Not only was Winters not nervous, but he also felt a sense of relief: “All troops halt! Have the left and right columns close in towards me.”
He pointed to the flat, open fields on both sides of the road: “No need to go any further; we’ll decide the battle with the Terdon people right here.”
…
The skirmish started in the morning—a hundred-strong cavalry unit of the Terdon Tribe was repelled by the vanguard of the left column.
Upon receiving the news, Winters immediately halted the troops, and according to his orders, the left and right columns began to contract towards the center.
In Iron Peak County, every five hundred people formed a camp, commanded by an appointed officer.
After surveying the battlefield, Winters sent messengers to guide each camp into the positions he had designated.