Observation

Karl was no longer in the marching column. Protected by a few guards, he, along with his standard-bearer and messenger, quietly circled around to a less wooded spot on the side of the hilltop.

The terrain here is slightly higher, with a natural reverse slope in front providing cover. This allows for observation of the battlefield ahead while preventing enemy archers from directly aiming at the area.

He crouched down, carefully parted a few clumps of withered grass, and took out binoculars from the leather sheath at his waist. The tube was cold, but exceptionally smooth. He adjusted the eyepiece, and the distant scene was instantly brought closer and became crystal clear.

The first thing that catches the eye is the general outline of the Sauron camp in Gray Wolf Valley. A simple but sturdy wooden fence encloses an irregular oval shape, and behind the fence, the roofs of low wooden houses and shacks can be vaguely seen.

Behind the gap in the fence facing the hillside, a large group of people had gathered.

Karl held his breath and slowly scanned the crowd through his binoculars.

He silently counted in his mind, estimating the number of people. "One row, about... twenty people? Five rows... no, six rows... and some scattered ones behind... archers on both sides and on the arrow towers..."

He wasn't just glancing around casually; he was deliberately training himself to visually estimate the number of enemy troops in a real combat environment.

He knew that intelligence could not always be transmitted in a timely and accurate manner. An excellent general or scout must be able to quickly make a relatively accurate estimate of the number of enemy troops by observing the size, density, and formation of the enemy's formation and combining it with battlefield experience.

This may seem like a small trick, but in the ever-changing battlefield, it can often be a crucial decision that determines whether to attack, defend, or retreat.

Karl has decided that after this battle, this skill of "visual estimation" will be promoted as an important training subject to all officers and cavalry scouts.

"Three hundred... to four hundred, no more than five hundred." Karl put down his binoculars, having made a preliminary judgment.

This figure largely matched the intelligence gathered by the scouts; the enemy's forces were roughly half the size of their own, but their equipment and training levels... The binoculars were raised again, focusing on the details of the Sauron's formation.

The fortifications were rudimentary, just a wooden fence about a meter high, but it was better than nothing.

The Sauron troops lined up behind the palisade, instead of foolishly charging out into the open for a decisive battle, which shows that the opposing commander had at least some military common sense, and might even have been a veteran.

The formation was fairly decent, though far from orderly.

The front row consisted of relatively capable-looking soldiers, dressed in roughly sewn leather armor made of various animal hides, their colors mottled and chaotic.

Most of them carried sharpened wooden spears, a few had metal spearheads, or held heavy hand axes or machetes.

These people stood relatively close together, with fierce eyes; they were likely the core fighting force of this Sauron camp.

In the middle to rear of the column, Karl spotted a particularly conspicuous target: a burly officer with what appeared to be a scar on his face, wearing a worn but intact Chain Mail and a Norman Helmet with a nose guard.

He was waving his arms, seemingly shouting something, surrounded by several petty thugs similarly clad in worn-out iron or leather armor.

This was undoubtedly the commander of the Sauron.

On either side of the fence stood a simple arrow tower made of rough wood and vines, not very tall, but enough to provide some field of vision and firing range.

Two archers stood atop each arrow tower, carrying quivers and holding hunting bows, their eyes fixed intently on the hillside.

"This is a threat," Karl thought to himself.

Although the Sauron ' bows and arrows were generally inferior in range and power to the standard crossbows of regular armies, these arrows, fired from high ground, could still cause considerable trouble before engaging the enemy and in melee combat, especially against unarmored targets.

After observing the enemy situation, Karl put away his binoculars, tilted his head slightly, and looked at his own troops.

At this moment, the vanguard force directly commanded by Brendan, mainly some companies of the First Regiment Third Battalion, had crossed the mountaintop and was steadily advancing towards Gray Wolf Valley along the gentle slope down the mountainside.

The soldiers stood in relatively neat rows, spears held level, shields raised, and Musketeers marched in the ranks with their rifles at the ready.

Brendan's figure was faintly visible in the middle of the formation, as he gave subtle adjustment instructions through the standard bearer and bugler beside him.

Although the Carnford Army formation had just experienced the chaos of a marching change of formation, once they entered the battle advance phase, the soldiers' steps quickly stabilized under the rhythmic whistles of the officers.

The whistle was short and clear, pressing down on the soldiers' steps and keeping them in rhythm and space.

The initial chaos and trampling sounds disappeared, replaced by heavy, orderly footsteps, the rhythmic clanging of armor, and the deep, urging voices of officers.

The entire formation resembled a killing machine gradually warming up and beginning to run smoothly, carrying a silent yet resolute momentum as it slowly pressed down on the Sauron camp below the mountain.

Seeing this, Karl's last lingering doubts caused by the chaos of the impending battle vanished.

The troops are rapidly recovering to their training level. The disparity in troop strength, equipment, training, and morale between the enemy and ourselves is enormous, and the battlefield terrain is also in our favor. Victory is already assured.

Without further hesitation, he gave a concise order to the flag bearer who had been standing beside him, holding red and blue command flags, "Order Lyon, the cavalry, to send two squads of ten men each to harass the enemy, but not to charge into the enemy lines. The rest of the troops should advance to the edge of the forest on the middle of the hillside and wait for an opportunity."

"Once our infantry has broken through the enemy lines, or the enemy lines show signs of collapse, we will immediately launch a pursuit and attack from the flanks without waiting for further orders. We must expand our gains and annihilate as much of the enemy's manpower as possible!"

"Yes!" the flag bearer replied in a low voice, immediately stood up, half-squatted behind the reverse slope, and waved the specific flag signaling "cavalry advance, prepare to ambush" forcefully and precisely in the direction of the cavalry's pre-set concealment area on the left. The flag signal drew a clear trajectory in the morning light.

Karl raised his binoculars again, looking over the heads of his advancing infantry towards Gray Wolf Valley.

He could see a patch of trees swaying slightly at the edge of the forest on his left, with faint metallic glints and the low neighing of horses. Lyon's cavalry had received orders and were moving forward stealthily, like cheetahs poised to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Alright," Karl refocused his telescope on the Chain Mail- clad Sauron commander, and the makeshift fence and chaotic array behind him.

"The stage is set, the roles are all in place, and now... it's time for a head-on clash on the front lines," he muttered to himself, his gaze sharp.

The outcome was no longer in doubt; what he wanted to see now was just how sharp his new army's sword would be when it was first stained with the blood of the enemy.

And how long can that Sauron commander withstand his iron hooves?