Worry

At Karl's command, the officers' roars instantly echoed through the forest, drowning out the soldiers' slightly heavy breathing caused by tension.

"Change formation! Battle formation! Quickly!"

"Spearmen, concentrate on the left flank! Swordsmen and Shieldbearers, right flank! Musketeers, forward and center! Move quickly!"

The orders were clear, and after the initial panic, the soldiers subconsciously began to execute the steps they had practiced countless times on the training field.

The scattered marching column began to spread out to both sides, attempting to form a wide horizontal line facing the direction of Gray Wolf Valley.

The spearmen struggled to lower their four-and-a-half-meter-long Wooden Spear from their shoulders, holding them horizontally or pointing them diagonally forward, attempting to form a forest of spears; the Swordsmen and Shieldbearers raised their shields and drew their swords with their other hands to fill the gaps between the spear formations.

Urged on by their officers, the Musketeers finally finished loading their rifles and, carrying their heavy muskets, struggled to form a somewhat disorderly line in front of the spearmen and shieldmen.

However, the gap between ideals and reality was laid bare at this moment.

This is not the flat, open training ground on Carnford Plain, hardened as stone by countless feet.

Beneath your feet lies soft humus, tangled tree roots, hidden pits, and fallen, intertwined shrubs and weeds that have withered and tangled in late autumn.

As the soldiers, wearing leggings, tried to move quickly, maintain spacing, and turn in formation, some stumbled over tree roots, tripped over vines, or sank into soft pits.

When a soldier falls, it often knocks down his comrade next to him, or causes a blockage in the ranks behind him.

"Damn it! Watch your feet!"

"Don't push! Keep your distance!"

"You! Raise your gun high! You've poked the person in front of you!"

"Musketeers! Don't point your guns at your own men!"

The officers and veterans shouted and yelled at each other, kicking and shoving the disoriented recruits with sticks, knife sheaths, and even boots, trying to bring the chaotic scene back under control.

Sweat mingled with the dampness of the forest, rolling down the soldiers' tense faces.

The entire formation shift became slow, chaotic, and even somewhat disorganized. The soldiers huddled together, gun barrels clattering against each other, shields bumping into each other, and the Musketeers, fearing accidental discharge, moved with excessive caution, appearing even more clumsy.

Karl, mounted on his horse, watched this scene with a furrowed brow and a grim expression.

Is this still the new army he placed high hopes on and poured his heart and soul into training?

The chaotic scene before him was almost identical to when he first inspected those inexperienced militiamen.

If it weren't for the experienced junior and mid-level officers desperately maintaining order and suppressing the unrest in the most brutal yet effective way, Karl even worried that some timid recruits would have collapsed and deserted under the chaos and pressure.

Just as Karl was feeling anxious and disappointed with his troops' performance in the upcoming battle, artillery commander Elmont rushed over, his face showing the same tension and uncertainty.

"My lord! My lord!" Elmont wiped the sweat from his brow, speaking rapidly, "Our cannons... our three Minin Cannon, what should we do now? Should we move them to the front?"

Karl then remembered that, in order to enhance offensive and deterrent capabilities, he had brought Elmont and his valuable light Cannon with him this time.

The initial plan was to deploy Cannon in front of or on the flanks of the infantry formations, so that when the two armies were locked in a stalemate, they could use solid shot or grapeshot to bombard the Sauron ' formations or makeshift fortifications, thereby creating a breach and demoralizing the enemy.

But at this moment, looking at the barely formed and not yet well-organized infantry formation under his command, and thinking about the unknown Sauron ahead, who might be more adapted to complex terrain, he realized that...

Karl immediately realized that pushing the cumbersome Cannon to the front and exchanging fire with the enemy at the edge of the jungle would not only make it difficult to take advantage of their range and firepower, but could also become a burden, or even be destroyed by the Sauron using the terrain to their advantage.

He quickly adjusted his plan, his gaze passing over the chaotic soldiers in front of him and turning towards the front, where the terrain began to rise, forming a long, gentle slope covered with trees.

According to reconnaissance, once you cross this hillside, you'll find the open ground of the Sauron Camp in Gray Wolf Valley.

"Elmont!" Karl decisively ordered, "Your Cannon, don't go forward! Stay behind the column, keep your distance, see that hillside ahead?" He pointed ahead.

Elmont nodded quickly. "I see, sir!"

"Once my main infantry force crosses the hillside and begins its advance into the valley," Karl clearly ordered, "You immediately move the three cannons to the top of the hill and select a secure firing position."

"Then, ignore the specific enemy formation; you have only one objective—the village of the Sauron in Gray Wolf Valley! Use solid shot, bombard them relentlessly! Destroy as many houses and fences as possible, create chaos and panic! Understand?"

Elmont's eyes lit up. This mission was clear, safe, and would allow the Cannon to fully utilize its long-range destructive power, which was exactly what artillerymen liked best.

"Understood, sir! Once the infantry comes down the mountain, we'll bombard their village from the top!" He immediately saluted, feeling a sense of relief. It was wonderful that he didn't have to risk pushing the Cannon through the chaotic infantry formation.

After arranging the artillery, Karl's mind was not completely at ease.

He spurred his horse to turn towards the rear of the column, where the supply train and the militia company responsible for escorting them were located.

Roland had already come forward, his face also showing seriousness.

Karl didn't dismount, but leaned slightly closer to Roland and whispered quickly in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Roland, listen, your militia company is doing its job of protecting the supply train."

"But I need you to do one more thing—right here, in front of the supply train, have your militia form a defensive formation. It doesn't need to be complicated; spearmen on the outside, archers and javelin throwers on the inside, in a circle or square, ready for battle."

Upon hearing this, Roland was first taken aback, then his face showed disbelief and astonishment. "My lord?! This... do you think the main force ahead will...?"

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear: Did the Lord really think that his seven hundred elite troops, personally led by him, couldn't defeat the small number of Sauron militia in Gray Wolf Valley?

Karl remained calm, revealing little emotion, and simply shook his head slightly. "It's not that I think so, it's that we should be cautious in everything we do and leave room for maneuver. The situation on the battlefield can change in an instant, and no one can make any guarantees."

"Remember, the supply train is our lifeline, and also the foundation for the entire army's retreat and reorganization should the vanguard suffer a setback. Only when your troops are stable here, able to provide support when advancing and cover when retreating, can I feel at ease."

He reached out and patted Roland's shoulder firmly, his gaze deep. "Roland, you're reliable and steady. I'm leaving this to you. Remember, no matter what happens ahead, your primary task is to ensure the safety of the supply train and this backup position! Understand?"