Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 851 - 91 The General Offensive

Chapter 851: Chapter 91: The General Offensive Chapter 851: Chapter 91: The General Offensive At first, it might have just been an instinctive dodge.

Facing a behemoth far greater in size than themselves, humans’ innate reaction is to evade, all the more so when there’s an even more dangerous, howling, slaughtering humanoid beast on the back of the beast.

However, the individual’s instinctual evasion soon led to the disintegration of the troop’s formation.

The ferocious warriors who leaped over the trenches discarded their broken spears and drew their swords to hack wildly, while the surrounding militia dropped their weapons and retreated in a rolling scramble.

The “Young Soldiers” were originally the most fragile part of this army.

The “Mature Soldiers” had at least undergone the baptism of the Battle of Panto River; the young soldiers were thoroughly civilians, having only received the simplest training.

Young soldiers could also form a seemingly impregnable battle line, allowing the use of long-range weapons such as crossbows and muskets.

...

But when the moment truly arrived, they lacked the will and belief to face a charge head-on.

“Herde Language Break the lines!” Terdun Cavalry roared, pushing caltrops and deer forts into the trenches amidst the chaos, swarming into the frontline, “Herde Language Break the lines!”

…

In the central army, someone frowned and asked, “What are the Herders howling?”

“Break the lines, meaning ‘to break through the enemy’s formation.'” The old merchant who had traveled the wasteland for years replied cautiously and added, “I haven’t heard it for many years… almost thirty years.”

…

Meanwhile, the rumbling sound of war drums resonated below the mountains—the main force of the fire-tenders pressed towards the center of Iron Peak County’s army.

Hundreds of Terdun Cavalry advanced slowly, at a very slow speed, but the strong sense of pressure was nearly suffocating the people of Iron Peak County.

The saying “to pull one hair and move the whole body” was undoubtedly happening now.

A wicked wolf had already bitten fiercely into Winters’ left hand, but if Winters dared to divert his eyes for a moment, another wolf would tear his throat without hesitation.

The prolonged standoff seemed to have been accumulating potential for this very moment.

When the brass horns sounded, all the beautiful illusions of war were torn to shreds in an instant. Ultimate violence was about to burst forth like a mountain flood, rampaging across the land without regard.

Seeing the left flank in jeopardy and the central army pinned down, everyone in the command post turned to Montagne, the Civil Guard Officer.

Even the most pessimistic residents of Iron Peak County had not anticipated that the battle had just begun and already reached a critical point of life and death.

“We can still redeploy troops from the right flank now!” someone blurted out, unable to restrain himself.

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The Terdun had massed heavy troops on the left wing and center. At this moment, the troops on the right wing were practically idle.

Winters gave the speaker a deep look and said nothing.

A man riding a black horse beside him scolded solemnly, “Shut up! Look more! Move? The barbarians are just waiting for you to move!”

Although the rider of the black horse was present during the negotiations, he and his attendant were clearly distinguished from the people of Iron Peak County. The one who had just spoken was one of the black horse rider’s attendants.

“You have seen something unbecoming,” the black horse rider turned his head and said to Winters.

Winters watched the situation on the left flank, showing no emotion.

To be precise, he had no emotions, and it was not by his subjective will that this was the case.

Winters was never a commander of overflowing passion. Alpad was, so was Andre, but Winters was not.

Andre would fiercely whip those who showed cowardice, and he would sit by the fire side by side with his subordinates, taking turns sharing a bottle of wine, laughing and joking in boasting banter; Alpad’s mere presence on the battlefield could lift the spirits of the entire army.

They were fiery, dazzling, fearless. Soldiers saw them as idols and deities, cursing them vilely while following them into the fray.

What Andre and Alpad could achieve, Winters could too, and no one could question his courage.

But from the marrow, he was different from the other two.

Thus faced with blood and death, he became silent and detached. The more he experienced, the more it was so, as if a subconscious self-defense had completely sealed off part of his emotions.

Not far from Winters, a tall and thin gentleman, Jacob Green, determined to write an epic, shivered as he scanned the battlefield and secretly observed the expressions of Winters Montagne, speculating about the latter’s inner world.

…

Due to the militia’s extremely limited training, the formations of the Iron Peak County Military’s platoons and battalions were not the “square formations” commonly used by the Standing Army, but rather closer to the “line formations” of the classical era.

Namely, a platoon of 120 men was arranged in a formation of [15 columns][8 rows], with each battalion’s four platoons side by side,

The battalion of a total of 480 men spread out in a [60X8] formation, with the two flanks of the battalion-level line protected by caltrops and barricades.

During combat, everyone faced the same direction standing up, with all actions following the military flag.

For militia, the depth of 8 rows was obviously somewhat thin, but Winters needed to occupy as much width as possible.

Given that the total width of the battlefield was close to one kilometer, a flanking maneuver was far more fatal than a frontal breakthrough.

Moreover, temporarily conscripted militia could not execute the rotation tactics of the Ancient Empire’s legions; once engaged in battle, only two outcomes would occur: an “all-out assault” or a “complete scatter,” making depth less important.

…

Under the pincer attack, the first to engage, the “Fourth Platoon of Little Shizhen,” virtually collapsed upon contact.

The militia, having traveled a long distance to get here, didn’t plan to flee from the start—why wait until now to escape?

Hatred, authority, desire… they stepped into battle driven by various motivations. No one was “ordinary”; the joys and sorrows of each individual, if compiled into text, would make for a hefty epic.