Disrupting the Formation

Archers behind the fence and able-bodied men wielding makeshift slingshots fired arrows and hurled stones at the oncoming cavalry.

The four archers on the two arrow towers, positioned high above, drew their hunting bows and fired bone or stone arrows at the cavalry.

In an instant, a sparse hail of arrows and stones flew toward the cavalry.

However, Carnford's cavalry were clearly well-trained and experienced.

They seemed to have anticipated the ranged attack. As they entered the edge of the effective range of the hunter's bows, the officer in charge gave a whistle, and almost simultaneously all the cavalrymen pulled hard on their reins. The horses reared up, neighing, and then nimbly turned around, not wanting to linger in battle, and quickly turned back in the direction they had come from.

"Swish swish--"

"Pfft--"

Most of the arrows and stones landed on the open ground behind the cavalry, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Only a handful of arrows struck the armor of the horses or riders, making a soft "clinking" sound, but they were all deflected by the leather vests or the Iron-reinforced Leather Armor of the cavalrymen, failing to cause any effective damage.

Twenty cavalrymen, as if toying with the enemy, easily retreated to about fifty meters away from the Sauron ' futile ranged attacks. Then, instead of going far away, they split into two groups and trotted back and forth at a distance that was neither too close nor too far. The cavalrymen, like a pack of wolves eyeing their prey, coldly watched the Sauron behind the fence.

This distance is beyond the effective accuracy range of the Sauron hunting bow; even if a stray arrow were to reach it, it would pose no threat.

The slingshot could barely hit anything, but it was completely inaccurate, let alone kill armored cavalry.

Although it failed to kill or wound the enemy, this operation to "repel" the cavalry harassment unexpectedly injected a distorted dose of adrenaline into the collapsing Sauron garrison.

"Look! They've run away!"

"Our bows and arrows are effective!"

"Even the Southern Barbarians cavalry wouldn't dare to charge!"

Looking at the cavalrymen who had retreated to a distance and lingered there, and then at the arrows left on the ground after the enemy had been "driven back"—arrows fired by their own men—the soldiers felt a sudden illusion that "we are not entirely passively taking a beating" and "we also have the power to fight back."

The fear seemed to have lessened somewhat, replaced by a kind of exhilarating mix of luck and madness that arose from being driven to the brink and seeing a faint "resistance result."

"Good! Well done!" Derek roared, his face still stained with blood, making him look even more ferocious. "See? Those Southern Barbarians are human too, they're afraid of death! As long as we hold the line and don't give them a chance, they can't do anything to us! Hold on! To survive! Fight to the death!"

"Fight to the death! Fight to the death!" The shouts, though uneven, rang out again from the Sauron defensive line, but now carried a fiercer edge.

Under the combined influence of the Whip officer's axe, worries about their families, and the false confidence gained from just "repelling" the cavalry harassment, this motley crew of over three hundred miraculously regained their composure, gripped their weapons tightly, and widened their eyes, preparing to face the real torrent of death slowly pressing down on the hillside.

However, Derek felt no relief whatsoever.

He knew that what had just happened was merely a probing and harassment by the enemy cavalry; the real test was the silent, ever-approaching steel wall on the hillside.

Those twenty lingering cavalrymen seemed more like messengers sent by Death to urge them on their journey.

Twenty Carnford Light Cavalry, like skilled hunters, calmly watched as sparse arrows and stones fell futilely on the ground a few meters or even more than ten meters in front of their horses, stirring up a few insignificant specks of dust.

They didn't even make any significant evasive maneuvers; they simply adjusted their horses' heads slightly and easily avoided those inaccurate attacks.

The face beneath the helmet obscured his expression, but his composure and disdain were clearly conveyed through the cold armor.

The squad leader was a seasoned sergeant under Lyon's command.

His gaze swept calmly over the Sauron behind the fence not far away, who were slightly agitated and even cheering softly after "repelling" them, and a barely perceptible sneer appeared on his lips.

He raised his right hand and made a simple gesture.

"Dismount!"

Because archery requires using the feet for leverage, archers would choose to shoot from the ground rather than from a mounted position if possible.

The command was clear and concise. The twenty cavalrymen moved in perfect unison, nimbly dismounting and landing silently, demonstrating their excellent horsemanship.

These cavalrymen were mostly handpicked by Lyon from tens of thousands of refugees, based on his own experience and recommendations from Brendan, Roland, and others.

They were either deserters or retired veterans from the former kingdom's Border Army, already familiar with horses and bows and arrows, and had experience in small-scale conflicts with the Sauron or other border barbarians; or they were nomads who had fled from northern grassland tribes, naturally excellent riders.

Lyon then subjected them to rigorous training in cavalry tactics, squad coordination, and the use of short guns.

Facing the real enemies of Sauron, they felt none of the panic of new recruits, only the composure of veterans and the icy killing intent of those about to reap their prey.

After dismounting, the cavalrymen quickly retrieved their pre-prepared recurve bows from their backs and skillfully drew neatly fletched, Armor-Piercing Awl arrows from the quiver beside their saddles.

He drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and pulled the bowstring taut, the arrowhead pointing steadily at the Sauron fifty meters away, whose ranks were now slightly crowded and loosened due to their recent "victory."

The entire process was quiet, swift, and exuded a professional and authoritative aura, a stark contrast to the Sauron's earlier chaotic ranged attack.

While Derek was secretly relieved and worried about temporarily "forcing back" the cavalry and slightly boosting morale, he suddenly saw the opposing cavalry dismount and draw their bows. His heart skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition instantly swept over him.

"They... are going to fire arrows?" The thought had barely crossed his mind when he saw the cavalrymen opposite him loosen their grip.

"Bang! Bang bang bang--!"

A series of rapid, short, and powerful bowstring vibrations rang out almost simultaneously, merging into a chilling, deathly tremor.

The next moment, twenty arrows with fletching, like black short spears hurled by Death at the same time, drew twenty low and swift arcs in the air, whistling as they rained down on the Sauron Army!

"Raise your shield!!" Derek finally reacted, roaring at the top of his lungs, but it was too late.

The Sauron ' defensive line, for the sake of courage and mutual support, had been unconsciously packed very tightly just now.

The front and back rows were almost touching, and most of them wore only tattered hemp or fur clothing, with a few having simple animal skin armor, offering barely any protection.

Faced with Armor-Piercing Awl arrows fired from fifty meters away by professional cavalry archers, carrying a downward force, these protections were practically useless.

"Pfft! Pfft! Ah--!"

"My eyes!"

"Help... help me!"

The dull thud of arrows piercing flesh, the cracking of bones breaking, and the sudden, heart-wrenching screams instantly replaced the previous false excitement, exploding across the Sauron defense line!