Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 853 - 91 The Final Assault_3

Chapter 853: Chapter 91: The Final Assault_3 Chapter 853: Chapter 91: The Final Assault_3 However, except for a few trusted aides beside him, almost no part of the tribes responded to him.

When the battle entered an extremely bloody and chaotic state, humans often repeatedly did the same thing, as if they were possessed.

Those shooting arrows would keep shooting, shooting, shooting…

Those chopping would keep chopping, chopping, chopping…

Those stabbing would keep stabbing, stabbing, stabbing…

Because repeating an action could bring a sense of security.

When faced with the ultimate threat with only instincts remaining, even the faintest sense of security became addictive, impossible to shake off.

...

This is what is known as “seeing red.”

People didn’t “see red” because of the killing; they were too frightened to think and were left with only the reflex action of repetitive killing.

…

The first line of the left wing was one step away from total collapse, but the momentum of the Terdun Cavalry was also slowed.

Throughout the battle, Winters had not issued any orders to either flank.

This wasn’t a squad-level fight that could be controlled at will with “Sound Amplification Magic”; the army of tens of thousands had fully deployed, and communication difficulties spiked with the widening of the battlefield.

Any command longer than two sentences that didn’t have a pre-set signal could only be relayed by human messengers.

Even with efficient communication, the untrained militia lacked the capability to carry out complex tactical maneuvers.

Winters gave no orders to the flanking troops because their mission had already been assigned in advance:

“Hold the line.”

Abandon mobility, abandon offensive capability, surround themselves with trenches and barricades in an ironclad formation, and fight the cruelest war of attrition.

The Firefeeders could choose to surround without attacking, sending troops to cut off Winters’ supply line; or they could choose to confront Winters head-on.

Whatever choice the Firefeeders made, Winters had a corresponding contingency plan.

But a true decisive battle was what Winters wanted—and probably what the Firefeeders wanted as well.

In the Empire’s language, the word “Decisive Battle” derived from “Massacre,” which alone sufficiently illustrated the nature of a main force battle.

It was the cruelest solution, and also the most straightforward one.

This “Iron Peak County-Terdun Battle,” whether it should be considered a war or a campaign, had already brought too much torment.

Both sides deeply craved to settle everything once and for all, in a straightforward, cutthroat confrontation.

…

Left flank, first line.

Although the Terdon Tribe suffered heavy losses in the battle of the Great Wilderness, the true backbone of the Firefeeders—the ferocity of the Khan’s personal guards—was still far beyond any barbarians the Iron Peak County Military had previously encountered.

The heavily armored cavalry ripped out seven fences in a row, charging back and forth in the narrow battle zone between two trenches; the militiamen of Iron Peak County would almost instantly rout the moment they lost the protection of their fortifications.

On the left wing’s front line, only the most westerly camp and half of the easternmost camp were still barely holding on, supported by fortifications.

As the armored warriors charged, the unarmored riders continued to pour into the trenches to provide cover.

Unconsciously, the space between the two trenches became increasingly crowded.

The commander of the guards, with a quiver at his waist and a golden helmet on his head, reined in his warhorse and tore off his sweaty helmet, gasping for air as he surveyed the battle:

It was going well to the east and west; but the next trench to the south remained stubbornly uncaptured.

And these trenches were like narrow-necked bottles—easy to get into, but impossible to get out;

While the war drums still thundered, the guard commander grew increasingly uneasy, racing and shouting, “In Herde Language, do not go any further! Move south! Go attack the second trench! Move west! Get behind those bipeds! Do not advance any further!”

…

Left flank, second line.

The camp where Monkey was stationed had entered the climax of the battle.

The valiant warriors of Terdun were whipping and forcefully dragging away the still-living soldiers.

Monkey had thought they were winning the fight, but soon the barbarians returned with lassos.

The Terdun soldiers, under effective command, tied the ropes to their saddles, used spears to pick up barricades and Cheval de frise, and could pull down a row at a breath.

In contrast, Monkey’s platoon leader had already withdrawn from combat due to severe injuries, leaving Monkey’s platoon of soldiers of prime age in complete disarray.

Seeing the barricades about to be completely uprooted, the sergeant, Lu Xirong, yelled in despair, “Fight them with all we’ve got!”

With that, he raised his flail and charged out of the barricades. Some militia were inspired by Lu Xirong’s act of bravery and also killed their way out.

Monkey felt a rush of blood, yearning to charge bravely, but his legs would not obey.

It was only then that Monkey realized he was not the person he had imagined himself to be.

And then, he saw his good friend climbing over the barricades.

From childhood, between Monkey and Dog, it was always Monkey who came up with ideas, made decisions, while Dog was the reliable follower and executor.

Although it was never explicitly stated, Monkey genuinely considered himself a superior leader at heart, while his taciturn friend was an inferior adjunct.

Monkey stared blankly as he watched what he regarded as an accessory, biting a broken spear, climbing over the barricades with hands and feet, and then leaping into the air, stooping like a hawk to knock the barbarian leader, who was shouting orders, off the horseback.

…

On the western side of the battlefield, at the foot of Tiefeng Mountain.

Anglu finally saw the agreed-upon red flag.

“All mount up!” Anglu drew his saber and yelled with all his might, “Forward! Forward!! Forward!!!”

The cavalry squad no longer concealed their tracks, for the charge was already sounded.

The riders first accelerated, only letting their warhorses fly when they reached a sparser area of trees.

They were not cavalry—they had never been referred to as “cavalry”; they weren’t even a true squadron—the true squadron had been taken by Andre.

They were farmers, merchants, craftsmen, Dusacks, newly-trained clumsy riders, ordinary civilians who had never thought about going to battle.

Whatever they were, at this moment, they all clenched their legs tightly, lowered their bodies, and let out the most fearful yet bravest shouts: “Forward! Forward!! Forward!!!”

The bravest of Iron Peak County’s men charged down the slope, cutting the Terdun forces attacking the left flank in two.

At the same time, a second front was also counterattacking, pushing cheval de frise and barricades into the trenches, with the prime-age soldiers of each camp charging in a disordered melee toward the Terdun Cavalry, who had expended too much strength and were trapped between two trenches.

But would the battle end this way?

No, as the Iron Peak County Military’s ambush was launched and Paratu’s champion revealed his hand, the fire-watcher shot the last arrow hidden in his quiver.

The horns resounded, and the warhorses’ iron hoofs seemed to tear the earth apart—not from the front, but from the rear.

The flanking Terdun Cavalry reached the battlefield, and the Terdun main formation also charged. In the place where flags with horse tails stood tall, the fully armored cavalry, even their warhorses clad in heavy armor, finally struck.

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Their target was not the blood-saturated left wing of Iron Peak County, nor Winters’ central forces of Iron Peak County.

Their target was the “idle” right wing of Iron Peak County.

At the same time, over a thousand horsemen hidden on the reverse slope of the northern hillside charged down the slope.

These new Terdun arrivals had little armor—they were, indeed, new, and not the “elite of the Khanate”.

They were the remnants that Winters had repulsed on the West Bank.

The fire-watcher had displayed all the armored cavalry upfront for Winters to see but hidden these thousand-odd light cavalry until now.

These thousand-odd light cavalry did not go to strike Iron Peak County Military’s right wing; they headed straight for Iron Peak County’s central forces.

The Terdun forces launched their total offensive.

This was not the end; it was the beginning of the end.