Cavalry Training

One month later, Carnford.

The Sauron siege, in a peculiar way, has lasted for more than twenty days.

The four thousand troops surrounded the fortress and the outer city walls at the foot of the mountain like an iron barrel, leaving no room for escape.

The camps were connected, banners covered the sky, and elite cavalry patrolled outside the cordon day and night, cutting off any possibility of anyone entering or leaving.

However, inside Carnford, which was isolated from the outside world, there was no panic or despair as one might have imagined.

At the foot of the mountain, dust swirled in the open space designated as a cavalry training ground.

Although the Sauron army was trapped on the outskirts, temporarily depriving the cavalry of their scouting and harassment capabilities, Lyon never relaxed his training of his cavalry for a single day.

On the training ground, shouts of battle, the sound of horses' hooves, and the clashing of weapons filled the air.

Lyon, clad in light armor and mounted on his warhorse, scanned the cavalrymen who were conducting group combat drills with sharp eyes. Thorsten, also fully armed, assisted in command from the side.

This time, they managed to select twenty promising young men who could become cavalrymen from among the new recruits and civilians willing to join the army.

Only five of them had actual horse riding experience; either they had previously worked for the army raising horses, or they had family packhorses for transportation.

The remaining fifteen, in Lyon's words, were "more daring than capable." They had at most seen others ride horses or ridden donkeys and mules, but they all said they weren't afraid of falling and were willing to learn.

Regardless, their cavalry force has indeed expanded, now totaling one hundred and thirty men.

Sweat soaked everyone's backs, and the warhorses puffed out heavy white breaths, but no one dared to slacken their efforts in the slightest.

Thorsten wiped the sweat from his brow, inwardly groaning.

In the Sauron Tribe, training was far less systematic and rigorous.

The slave chieftain Harald preferred to hone his troops in actual combat, and his routine training was often very rough, conducted only when he felt like it, with a much lower intensity and duration than that of Carnford.

This systematic, day-to-day rigorous training was taking a toll on him, a barbarian accustomed to a free and easy lifestyle.

As Lyon watched the soldiers' increasingly skilled teamwork and fierce attacks on the training field, a hint of satisfaction finally appeared on his tense face.

He raised his hand and blew the bronze whistle that signaled the end of training.

"Whoa!!!"

"Everyone assemble! Form ranks!"

Upon receiving the order, the cavalrymen quickly reined in their horses and rearranged their formation. Although exhausted, their movements were perfectly synchronized, demonstrating excellent discipline.

Lyon rode up to the front of the column, his gaze sweeping over the sweat-drenched faces, and said in a deep voice, "Today's training is over! After dismissal, each squad leader is responsible for leading their men to clean their warhorses and maintain their equipment! Remember, warhorses are our brothers, and weapons are our lives! There must be no carelessness! Dismissed!"

"Yes, sir!" the soldiers responded in unison, their voices booming.

The troops dispersed in an orderly fashion, and the soldiers, leading their beloved warhorses, walked in twos and threes towards the stables and barracks.

Lyon and Thorsten dismounted, handed the reins to the orderly, and walked side by side toward the camp.

The long period of fighting side by side and training together quietly caused cracks to appear in the high wall that was originally built between the two out of hatred.

Looking at the smoke rising from the distant Sauron camp, Lyon said calmly, "Thorsten, you've had a hard day. During the siege, we need to conserve provisions and control the intensity of training. We can't overexert the horses and the soldiers' stamina."

Thorsten nodded. "I understand, Your Lord Lyon. This kind of training is tiring, but it is indeed very effective. I never imagined that cavalry formation changes and teamwork could be so precise."

These words came from the heart; he had indeed learned a great deal from Lyon about the systematic and standardized cavalry tactics employed in the Broomflower army, a style quite different from the Sauron' reliance on individual bravery and mass charges.

Upon hearing this, Lyon paused for a moment, then nodded slightly in response.

He still hated the Sauron.

It was the invasion of the Sauron that led to the occupation of his family's territory and the death of his father in despair. He never forgot this deep-seated hatred.

But after the life-or-death chase they fought together, he had to admit that this Sauron general named Thorsten beside him seemed... to be quite different.

He was not only a brave fighter, but also showed remarkable loyalty and a sense of belonging to Carnford, and always offered valuable insights during tactical discussions.

This caused a subtle change in Lyon's mindset without him even realizing it.

The two reached a fork in the road at the campsite, where they should have gone back to their respective lodgings to rest.

Thorsten suddenly turned around and looked at Lyon's somewhat lonely figure as he turned and left, and a thought struck him.

This young cavalry commander was exceptionally capable, deeply trusted by the Lord, received generous treatment, and was handsome, making him very popular with the girls in the territory.

But he always seemed to be a loner, and he was never seen getting close to any woman, nor did he participate in the soldiers' evening gatherings.

It was as if all emotions were sealed inside a cold suit of armor.

This profound sense of loneliness resonated with Thorsten, who had also experienced wandering and struggle.

"Lord Lyon!" Thorsten suddenly called out to him.

Lyon stopped, turned around, and gave him an inquiring look.

Thorsten gave a sincere but slightly awkward smile and invited, "Training ended early today... How about coming to my house for a simple meal? I had my wife prepare some home-cooked dishes."

Lyon was visibly taken aback and instinctively tried to refuse.

He was never used to such private interactions, let alone visiting the home of a former Sauron Army.

He opened his mouth, then said, "No, I..."

"Sir!" Thorsten interrupted him, his tone more earnest. "It's just a simple meal. My wife's cooking is quite good, and... we can also chat about some tactical details that came up in training today while we eat. There are some ideas that we might not have had time to discuss on the training field."

Lyon hesitated when he heard that tactical discussions were involved.

He did indeed have some questions he wanted to ask Thorsten about the fighting habits of the Sauron Cavalry.

Seeing Thorsten's eager gaze, he finally nodded, his voice still calm. "... Alright, then I'll take my leave."

Thorsten's face immediately lit up with a smile, "Great! Please come with me!"

Thorsten's residence was located in a relatively quiet area of the new residential district at the foot of the mountain. It was a small but sturdy and clean stone hut allocated by the Lord.

As a general who surrendered with sixty cavalrymen and made great contributions, he received quite good treatment.

Pushing open the wooden door, a warm, delicious aroma of food wafted out.

A pretty young woman wearing an apron was busy at the stove. Hearing the door open, she immediately turned around and greeted the doorman with a gentle smile.

She was Liss.