Night Raid
In the dead of night, a suppressed yet fervent fighting spirit permeated the inner side of Carnford's heavy city gates.
Lyon rode at the very front of the procession on his magnificent black warhorse.
In recent days, under Lord Karl's precise and bold tactical command, his cavalry platoon has repeatedly achieved remarkable feats.
They struck like ghosts, delivering a fatal blow to the Sauron at the crucial moment, before quickly retreating behind the safe walls.
Not only did they successfully kill a large number of enemy soldiers and greatly dampen their morale, but even more incredibly, in such a high-intensity attack and brutal fighting, the entire cavalry platoon miraculously maintained a record of almost zero casualties!
Apart from the cavalryman who was rescued from the brink of death by Master Andrei and suffered only minor injuries, the other forty-nine brothers were all unharmed and had received ample rest and supplies, along with their horses.
At that moment, Lyon looked back and, by the flickering light of the torches on the city wall, he could clearly see the burning fighting spirit in the eyes of every cavalryman behind him.
It was a kind of spirit born from the baptism of blood and fire, an absolute trust in the commander, and a firm belief in one's own invincibility.
They gripped the reins tightly, their bodies leaning slightly forward, like cheetahs poised to pounce, waiting only for the command to tear through the darkness and deliver a thunderous blow to the enemy.
A surge of pride and responsibility welled up within Lyon, and he nodded emphatically to his brothers, everything unspoken.
However, when his gaze shifted to another silent cavalry squad standing on the flank of the main force, his expression instantly tightened, and he subconsciously turned his head away, unwilling to look at them any longer.
That was a cavalry squad of fifty Sauron Defectors led by Thorsten.
Despite Lord Karl and Thorsten's repeated emphasis on the necessity of the alliance, Lyon's heart would ache whenever he saw those familiar Sauron faces and attire, a wound etched deep by the blood feud of his family.
His family and his home were destroyed under the iron hooves of these men from the north.
Now, however, he has to fight alongside them, which is undoubtedly the greatest torment and irony for him.
But he knew that this was not the time to dwell on personal grudges.
The opportunity to strike is fleeting, and the key to the Lord's plan for a surprise attack at dawn lies in speed and unexpectedness.
His fifty cavalrymen alone might be weak, but if combined with Thorsten's fifty equally elite surrendered cavalrymen who were familiar with Sauron tactics, they could form a sharp force capable of tearing apart enemy camps and creating massive chaos!
"For Carnford... for survival..." Lyon murmured to himself, forcibly suppressing the surging hatred, turning his head back to a straight position, his gaze once again cold and resolute.
He took a deep breath of the cold pre-dawn air, nodded slightly in Thorsten's direction, and signaled that he was ready.
Personal hatred must give way to survival and victory; this is the price a commander must pay.
Half a step behind him was Thorsten, who was also fully armed.
His feelings were more complex, but a sense of honor and determination inspired by extreme trust overwhelmed all other emotions.
Lord Karl not only accepted him, but at this moment, he entrusted him with such an important task and command of his original team!
This profound trust filled his heart with the heroic sentiment of "a scholar would die for one who understands him."
Tonight, he is no longer a desperate surrendered general, but Carnford Knight fighting to protect his new home!
Behind the two of them, standing solemnly in the darkness, stood one hundred elite cavalrymen!
Fifty of them were Lyon's most loyal and valiant Northern Territory cavalrymen, whose hatred for the Sauron ran deep in their bones.
The other fifty were carefully selected by Thorsten, the strongest and most consistent of the Sauron Defectors!
These former Vanguard Camp cavalrymen are now all fully armored, armed to the teeth!
Morr opened the armory and distributed the best Chain Mail, Iron-reinforced Leather Armor, and even a small number of captured plate armor pieces to them, along with gleaming sabers and spears as their weapons.
As evening fell, Karl even ordered the remaining bacon to be released, allowing them to enjoy a rare meat feast.
At this moment, the fifty Sauron Defectors were equally excited.
They felt an unprecedented sense of importance and trust!
The abundant food, the superior equipment, and the Lord's promise that "if we win this battle, all past sins will be wiped clean" completely ignited the flames in their hearts.
In addition, during these days, they witnessed firsthand the tenacity and strength of the Carnford defenders, and saw the main force of Sauron suffer heavy losses at the city walls!
They knew better than anyone that Carnford was a true bastion that could protect them and give them a future!
They are willing to fight for such Lord, to defend their homeland!
At four in the morning, all was quiet; it was the darkest hour before dawn, when people were most exhausted.
Karl stood at the front of the line, his gaze sweeping over the faces that were either fervent, resolute, or filled with determination.
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly:
"Warriors! Tonight, you are no longer defenders! You will be the daggers piercing the enemy's heart! The Sauron have besieged us, thinking we would only cower in our shells! Now, use the swords in your hands, use the cries of the enemy and their blood to tell them!"
"Carnford, never give up!"
"Remember your mission: create chaos! Burn the tents and provisions! Slaughter the officers! Then, immediately retreat!"
"I don't need your pointless sacrifices; I want you to come back alive, with victory and glory!"
The hundred cavalrymen suppressed their voices and emotions, offering no response, but their emotions were like a volcano about to erupt!
"Open the city gates!" Karl waved his hand.
The soldiers, who were already prepared, worked together to slowly move away the huge wooden supports and obstacles blocking the city gate.
The heavy iron-clad wooden door was silently pushed open, leaving only a gap wide enough for two riders to walk side by side.
"Let's go!" Lyon roared, taking the lead and slowly riding out of the city gate, with Thorsten following closely behind.
One hundred cavalrymen emerged silently, like a steel stream flowing in the dark night.
Instead of charging immediately, they controlled their warhorses, moving at a brisk, trotting pace, and stealthily approached the Sauron camp in the darkness.
The entire Sauron camp remained shrouded in the deepest stillness and darkness before dawn.
Only a few scattered torches carried by patrolling soldiers traced faint, flickering arcs of light along the edge of the camp, and a few sporadic neighs of horses drifted from the distant stables, breaking the suffocating silence.
The relentless, all-out attacks over several days had already exhausted the Sauron army.
The soldiers were physically exhausted, and their spirits were numbed and dulled by the continuous high-intensity fighting and heavy casualties.
At this moment, when the human body is most exhausted before dawn, most soldiers, including many sentries who should have been on alert, are in a state of near-instinctive relaxation.