Barbarians

Karl lay prone on the reverse slope at the summit, his Monocular Telescope taking in everything below with crystal clarity.

He watched as his twenty Light Cavalry, like the most cunning pack of wolves, would sometimes dismount and reap lives with a precise rain of arrows, and at other times mount up and create panic with the roar of their short guns, manipulating the Sauron infantry, who outnumbered him, at will.

The Sauron were like wild beasts trapped in a cage, possessing claws and teeth, yet being repeatedly stabbed and bled by the hunter through the fence. Apart from futile roars and retreats, they had no power to fight back.

"I see..." Karl suddenly understood, and even felt a slight self-doubt about his previous tactical ideas.

"The advantage of cavalry on the battlefield is so great," he muttered to himself.

This was a textbook example of asymmetric warfare and battlefield control; the cavalry fully utilized its advantages in mobility, range, firepower, and psychological deterrence.

It seems unnecessary for him to launch a meticulously planned, step-by-step infantry advance against the poorly equipped, disorganized, and ineffective long-range countermeasures Sauron militia.

"Perhaps, if I just have Lyon send out all one hundred of his cavalrymen and let them fire arrows and guns from a distance, I can completely wear them down and defeat them?" This thought flashed through Karl's mind.

He felt he might have overestimated the fighting strength of these border Sauron Tribe. In the previous defense of Carnford, he faced Harald's eight most elite legions, the core and fist of the Sauron armed forces, a true regular army.

The guards of Gray Wolf Valley in front of them were nothing more than local militia, and probably not even second-line troops.

Their equipment, training, organization, and morale were worlds apart from those of the regular army. He had clearly been misled by his previous impression of a "powerful enemy" and had unconsciously raised his expectations of all the Sauron forces.

The telescope's line of sight passed over the chaotic Sauron defenses, where men were constantly falling from arrows and the overall formation was clearly compressed backward, and focused on the rear of the village.

Karl clearly saw some Sauron women frantically pulling their children along, carrying meager bundles, running out of their wooden huts and shacks, stumbling and falling as they fled towards the back of the village, deeper into the woods.

The number was small, but it was a clear signal— the Sauron were starting to flee, and not only the soldiers but also the civilians realized that disaster was imminent.

"There's no time to hesitate!" Karl's heart tightened.

The goal is to wipe them out completely. We must not allow these women and children to escape into the mountains and forests. Once they are scattered into the dense jungle, it will be difficult to wipe them out, and the consequences will be endless.

He abruptly lowered his binoculars, turned to the flag bearers and buglers waiting beside him, and gave the order in a rapid, decisive voice:

"Order Brendan to abandon the steady advance and launch a full-scale charge! The Sauron are routed; charge and rout them! Forget about formations!"

"Order Lyon, the entire cavalry, to immediately flank the Sauron from both sides and cut off their retreat! The priority is the fleeing civilians," Karl's eyes flashed coldly, his tone as hard as iron, "Annihilate them all, leave no one alive!"

"Yes, sir!" the flag bearer and bugler answered resolutely.

The red triangular flag, representing "the whole army charging forward regardless of formation," was suddenly raised and drew a rapid arc in the air.

At the same time, the bugler puffed out his cheeks and blew a series of short, sharp, and aggressive bugle calls, completely different from the previous steady marching bugle calls!

"Waaaaah! Waaaaah!!"

The bugle call was like a wildfire that ignited the entire battlefield in an instant!

Brendan, who was in the middle of the hillside directing his troops to maintain formation and steadily descend, was the first to see the red pennant burning on the mountaintop and hear the urgent bugle call.

He was taken aback at first, but then immediately understood Karl's intention—the opportunity had appeared, the morale of the Sauron army had collapsed, and a thunderous strike was needed to expand the gains and give them no chance to catch their breath!

"The Lord commands!" Brendan drew his sword sharply and roared with all his might at his own ranks, which were beginning to stir with the sound of the bugle call, "All troops—charge! Charge! Rout them! For Carnford! Charge—!!!"

"Charge! Charge!" The roars of officers at all levels rang out almost simultaneously.

The moment the order was given, the infantry formation, which had been barely maintaining its horizontal formation and advancing slowly and heavily under the command of the officers' whistles and orders, suddenly "shattered" like a nut whose shell had been cracked!

The constraints of discipline were broken, replaced by the most primal desire to kill and charge, aroused by the War Drum, bugles, officers' shouts, and the clearly collapsing enemy before them.

The soldiers no longer cared whether their comrades were aligned or not, and no longer made a conscious effort to keep their steps in unison.

They let out a wild howl, brandishing spears, swords and shields, or loaded muskets, and charged madly down the mountain towards the Sauron palisade defenses less than two hundred meters away!

"Charge!"

"Kill Sauron Barbarians!"

"For the Lord! Kill!"

A deafening roar erupted from the Carnford Army, mingling with the urgent bugle calls and thunderous War Drum, creating a deafening and chilling sound wave that crashed down on the crumbling Sauron lines.

Chaos is inevitable.

The originally neat horizontal line quickly deformed under the full force of the charge.

Some rushed forward quickly, some slowly, and the formation scattered, becoming uneven.

In preparation for the charge, Musketeers even held their heavy muskets like spears in front of them, but that was no longer important.

Brendan knew that the most important thing at this moment was speed, momentum, and a violent impact that would completely crush the enemy's last bit of resistance!

The soldiers' blood boiled as they ran, their adrenaline surged, fear was left behind, and all they could see were the black figures retreating in terror ahead.

The distance is rapidly decreasing—150 meters, 100 meters, 80 meters...

They could clearly see the expressions of despair, fear, and blankness on the faces of the Sauron soldier behind the fence; they saw them falling one after another, wounded by arrows; and they saw the entire Sauron formation, like a sandcastle struck by a heavy hammer, irreversibly collapsing and disintegrating backward.

This retreat, far from making the Carnford soldiers hesitate, actually acted as the strongest catalyst, pushing their momentum to its peak!

"They escaped! Kill them!"

"Don't let them get away!"

"Charge in! Kill them all!"

The officers charged ahead, brandishing their weapons and roaring at the top of their lungs, guiding the soldiers and further inspiring their morale with their own actions.

The entire Carnford infantry assault group, like a mudslide carrying steel, fury, and the aura of death, crashed into the simple, symbolic defenses of Gray Wolf Valley with unstoppable force.

Meanwhile, on the flanks, Lyon, having received orders, led another eighty well-rested cavalrymen, like two unsheathed scimitars, suddenly bursting out from the woods on the flanks.

Instead of charging the Sauron head-on, they drew two deadly arcs, their hooves flying and dust billowing, their target the rear of the village and the fleeing Sauron soldiers and civilians trying to escape into the mountains from the flanks or rear!

The real battle of annihilation has begun.