Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 779 - 64 Width_2

Chapter 779: Chapter 64 Width_2 Chapter 779: Chapter 64 Width_2 The people of Terdun, upon bursting into Vernge County, scattered like mercury spilled on the ground.

The Vernge County’s defense forces, lacking cavalry, were caught in a passive situation where they “could fight but couldn’t chase.”

If it came to setting up a formation and engaging in an upright battle, the numerically inferior Paratu army could still send the people from Terdun scampering in retreat.

But the Herders had always been “not ashamed to flee”; wherever the resistance was fierce, they would simply avoid it—should reinforcements arrive at one place, they would move to another.

There were only about a hundred Piaoqi Troops in Vernge County, while the first wave of invaders from Terdun numbered fourteen Tulus—over a thousand cavalry.

A squadron of Piaoqi could not possibly handle so many enemy riders and might even risk being devoured if they weren’t careful.

The commander of Vernge County steeled his heart and didn’t redeploy any troops from the river defense line for reinforcement; instead, he urgently pressured all units to rush to their deployment positions.

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As for the Terdun Barbarians who had already entered Vernge County, the commander’s counterstrategy was to “wait for the enemy to cross the Glory River westwards, and retreat from Vernge County before launching an ambush.”

For a military officer responsible for the safety of an entire county, this was perhaps the most rational decision. For if the riverside defenses were to collapse, many more barbarians would flood into Vernge County.

However, for the unprotected villages that could not evacuate in time, this was nothing short of a disaster. They were like eggs without shells, at the Terdun’s mercy.

The tragedy of Oak Village thus unfolded.

When the Hammer Fort Cavalry arrived at Oak Village, the village had already been erased from the map, leaving only charred ruins and flickering embers.

As the gateway to Iron Peak County, Winters had left a small detachment of troops stationed at Hammer Fort.

Seeing the billowing smoke to the north, the commander of Hammer Fort immediately led his cavalry to help, but it was a step too late.

Smelling the stench of death, the warhorses snorted restlessly.

The commander of Hammer Fort was a sullen man with half of his face covered by a red birthmark.

“Search,” he ordered succinctly and to the point.

The scouts dispersed, searching separately for survivors and any trace of the enemy.

“Found some bodies, all burned beyond recognition. No living,” reported a veteran soldier, throbbing veins on his angered forehead: “They didn’t spare anyone, killed or taken.”

The man with the red birthmark’s expression grew even darker.

“There are fresh wheel and hoof prints on the road west of the village!” another scout reported: “The barbarians must have headed westward!”

“How many?” the man asked.

“Can’t tell,” the scout shook his head: “The tracks of people and livestock are mixed up, at least a hundred men and horses.”

“Pursue!” the birthmarked man ordered.

“Commander, no! Wait!” the elder soldier quickly blocked the birthmarked man’s path, his horse rearing: “We’re too few, only eighteen riders in all, catching up will be useless!”

The birthmarked man said nothing, just stared intently at the older soldier.

The elder soldier was of Dusack origin and the most experienced among the eighteen cavalry present; even he felt unnerved under the birthmarked man’s gaze.

He persisted, albeit unwillingly: “If the Herd Barbarians have a force of a hundred, it’s not something we can deal with. If they can appear here, they can travel by land into Iron Peak County. The priority should be to send word to Revodan.

Moreover, this is Vernge County. We’re not even supposed to be here. If someone sees us, we could end up taking the blame!”

“This man’s not dead!” another scout shouted from afar.

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The birthmarked man and the elder soldier, hearing the shout, immediately spurred their horses closer.

They saw a young man lying in the field, his face covered in blood; if not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, one could hardly tell him apart from a corpse.

The elder soldier dismounted laboriously, checking the young man’s neck, and then looked up at the one with the birthmark: “He’s alive. ”

“Take him,” said the birthmarked man as he tugged the reins: “Withdraw.”

…

…

Iron Peak County, Niutigu Valley.

Following the orders of the Montaigne Civil Protection Officer, nearly a hundred “chopping posts” were erected in the town square, filling the space completely.

The so-called chopping post is a sturdy log half-buried in the ground with the other half exposed above.

Whether they’re military nobles or common soldiers, the first lesson in learning swordsmanship is to chop at these posts, practicing one’s power.

There is a saying “Three days of chopping at posts, and even a fool can go to war.” which embodies this idea.

“Exerting power” may sound simple, but it’s difficult to achieve. Just the trivial matter of keeping the blade aligned with its swinging trajectory requires persistent practice.

If the blade’s posture is off, it’s the same as slapping someone with the flat of the sword, not only failing to exert force but the sword can easily break.

In that case, you might as well use a club—since a club doesn’t care about angles.

Therefore, Winters modified the chopping posts by adding a horizontal bar to the plain logs.

“Many of you have never touched a weapon before,” Winters spoke from atop a platform, a Stinger Hammer in his grip, his voice clearly reaching everyone: “This is good.”

Among the adult men of Niutigu Valley, those who could ride, shoot arrows, or handle muskets had already been selected, leaving behind the “know-nothings” on the square.

The weapons distributed to these men were literally “clubs”—Stinger Hammers.

“Those who have learned to use weapons usually think too highly of themselves and refuse to accept new knowledge, so you blank slates might be better off,” Winters said sternly, sweeping his gaze across the square: “Listen well, in a battle, you don’t need much, just one move will suffice.”