Kite

The sharp arrow easily tore through thin clothing and rough leather armor, embedding itself deeply into the human body.

Some were shot in the face and died instantly; some were shot through the chest and fell down screaming; some were shot in the thigh or arm and rolled around in agony.

In just one volley, at least seven or eight Sauron soldier were hit by arrows and fell to the ground, some dead and some wounded, their blood quickly staining a small patch of ground red.

The pitiful momentum that had just been barely created by "repelling" the cavalry burst and vanished instantly, like a soap bubble in the sunlight.

Panic, like ice water, extinguished the fragile flame that had just ignited in everyone's hearts.

However, this is just the beginning.

The opposing cavalry showed no sign of stopping; they swiftly drew arrows from their quivers, nocked them, and drew their bows again.

"Bang!" Another chorus of bowstrings rang out in perfect unison!

The second wave of twenty arrows, like deadly locusts, once again swarmed towards Sauron's already chaotic ranks.

"Scatter! Scatter now!"

"Shield! Find something to block!"

The Sauron soldier screamed in terror, instinctively jostling backward in an attempt to avoid being called upon by death. But their formation was already chaotic and crowded, and they couldn't disperse in time. Instead, the pushing and shoving exposed more weaknesses.

"Pfft! Pfft pfft!"

"Ah--!"

A dozen more Sauron soldier were hit by arrows and fell to the ground screaming.

One of the arrows even struck Derek's Norman Helmet's nasal guard with a clang, causing his head to snap back, stars to flash before his eyes, and a ringing in his ears.

Fortunately, the helmet was sturdy enough that the arrow slid off, leaving only a deep scratch on the nose guard. But the impact and the chilling sensation of death sent a cold sweat through Derek's body.

He touched the scratches on his helmet, and looking at the soldiers falling one after another around him and the rapidly collapsing morale, he felt a chill in his heart.

This can't go on! If we let the enemy fire arrows indiscriminately from a safe distance, these three hundred men will collapse on their own before they even have a chance to fight!

"We can't let ourselves be slaughtered! Follow me! Kill those cavalrymen!" Derek's single eye flashed with ferocity as he let out a desperate roar.

He knew that rushing out was extremely risky, but staying put would only mean being slowly shot to death!

He brandished his Battle Axe, limping as he charged forward, leading a group of twenty-odd relatively brave personal guards and the core of the village militia, all clad in tattered iron plates or thick leather armor. He smashed through the trembling ordinary soldiers in front of him, bursting through a gap in the palisade and howling as he charged toward the Carnford cavalrymen who were calmly preparing for their third volley of fire fifty meters away!

Their intention was clear: to use a rapid infantry assault to force back or entangle these troublesome cavalry archers.

However, they clearly underestimated the training level and tactical proficiency of the Carnford cavalry.

Seeing more than twenty Sauron howling and charging out of the fence, brandishing their weapons, the cavalry Sergeant Major in charge showed no surprise or panic. He didn't even immediately order a retreat, but calmly estimated the distance.

Twenty meters... fifteen meters...

Just as Derek and his men rushed to within about fifteen to twenty meters of the cavalry formation, and were about to enter the range of their throwing weapons...

"Mount up!" the squad leader ordered.

The twenty cavalrymen moved with astonishing fluidity, as if they had practiced a thousand times.

Almost simultaneously, they slung their bows behind their backs, pressed one hand on the saddle, and nimbly mounted their horses. With a flick of the reins, the warhorses deftly turned around on the spot.

"Walk!"

The twenty cavalrymen, their hooves kicking up dust, galloped off towards the woods they had come from, their speed so great that they left Derek and his men far behind.

Derek and his men missed their target. Watching the cavalrymen disappear into the distance, they were both angry and anxious, but helpless. How could two legs possibly catch up with four?

"Stop chasing! Go back! Back to the lines!" Although Derek was unwilling, he was still rational and knew that it was extremely dangerous to stay in the open without the cover of the fence, so he immediately ordered a retreat.

However, just as they turned away dejectedly, preparing to retreat behind the fence, another unexpected event occurred!

Those cavalrymen who had just "escaped" turned their horses around in unison after running only a few dozen meters!

This time, instead of taking down their bows and arrows, they each drew short, thick cavalry muskets with a metallic sheen from the holsters beside their saddles.

"Oh no!" Derek's heart pounded with alarm.

"Aim! Fire!" the cavalry squad leader's cold voice rang out.

"Bang! Bang bang bang!"

A series of Musket, even more crisp and explosive than those of arrows, suddenly erupted! White smoke billowed from more than a dozen muzzles.

At such close range, the well-trained cavalry could almost hit their targets precisely. The scorching lead bullets, carrying great kinetic energy, whistled as they shot towards the group of Sauron infantry who had turned and retreated, their backs to the cavalry.

"Pfft! Ah!"

My leg!

"Lord, be careful!"

The screams rang out again, even more piercing than when he was hit by the arrow.

Derek's personal guards were hit one after another by lead bullets, their bodies bursting with blood as they screamed and collapsed to the ground.

A stray bullet grazed Derek's arm as he swung his Battle Axe, tearing off a small piece of flesh. The searing pain made him groan, and he almost dropped the axe.

Looking back, of the more than twenty people who had just rushed out, seven or eight had fallen instantly, and the rest were all wounded and their souls had been scattered.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Derek dared not hesitate any longer. Ignoring his injured arm, he dragged his injured leg and scrambled towards the gap in the fence, fleeing for his life.

Morale completely collapsed; the courage they had mustered earlier had vanished, leaving only the most primal fear of death.

The cavalry did not seize the opportunity to pursue and kill. Their short guns were mostly empty, and it would take time to reload. Moreover, their mission was to harass, delay, and weaken the enemy, not to launch a direct attack.

After watching Derek and his men flee back to the fence in a disheveled state, the cavalry Sergeant Major gave the order again, "Dismount and change to bows."

The twenty cavalrymen dismounted swiftly once more, drew their bows and arrows, and moved without the slightest hesitation.

They re-established their ranks at a safe distance, drew their bows, and fixed their cold gazes once more on the panicked Sauron soldier behind the fence, who were desperately trying to shrink back and escape the range of their arrows.

The bowstring tightened again; death's roll call seemed about to begin once more.

This time, the Sauron didn't even have the courage to rush out of the fence and fight to the death.

They could only push backward in terror and helplessness, futilely trying to use their companions' bodies or the makeshift fence posts to block the deadly rain of arrows that could come again at any moment.

The Gray Wolf Valley defenses, riddled with holes from the precise strikes of the cavalry's arrows and Musket, coupled with psychological torment, had seen their morale plummet.

On the hillside, Carnford's main infantry formation continued its steady and unstoppable advance, the shadow of death looming over the entire valley.