"Sir!" Amid the dense thunder of hooves, two centaurs galloped toward Richard like gusts of wind. Sweat pouring from their lower bodies had soaked their fur dark brown. Gasping for breath, they shouted, "Fifteen kilometers northwest, a large force of enemies is approaching—and they have cavalry!"
"They're finally here. I've been waiting forever."
Richard waved for them to return to formation. These Centaur Recruits were terrible scouts, and the intelligence they brought back was of limited value. How many cavalrymen, how many infantrymen, whether they had any powerful units—they couldn't explain any of it clearly.
A desolate, low horn sounded from the wooden tower, and High Mountain Keep began an emergency mobilization.
Blades and spears were drawn, armor was donned, and heavy footsteps rang out in a chaotic clamor. Even the gentle wind seemed to carry a bleak, murderous chill.
With the help of the caravan servants, Richard was putting on three layers of heavy armor. Chain mail wrapped his innermost layer, the system-produced plate-and-mail armor formed the middle layer, and an oversized Lamellar Armor went over the top. He was armed to the teeth.
"Lord Richard, I've studied the system's military courses. What's your battle plan? Do you need the mercenaries to cooperate?" The solemn atmosphere of High Mountain Keep had affected Annie somewhat. She was worried about the great battle that was about to begin.
"First, fire two volleys and kill a dozen or so. Then lead the men in a charge and take out seventy or eighty. The rest will naturally collapse, and that's when we pursue them and cut them down." Richard spoke while adjusting his armor.
"That's the plan?" Annie looked at him as if he were a lunatic.
"What else?" Richard tightened the belt around his waist and strode out of the wooden tower.
The three layers of armor weighed at least three hundred pounds in total—enough to crush a packhorse's spine—but his legs remained as nimble as ever, as though he felt nothing.
"Boss." Gunther grinned beneath an absurdly oversized horned helmet. Behind him stood the barbarian warriors, armed to the teeth and radiating murderous intent.
"My lord." Hert touched his chest in salute. Beside him, every centaur held a longbow, with two quivers hanging from their waists.
The difference between the recruits and the veterans was obvious at that moment. The barbarians all looked calm and steady, their breathing unhurried, while several Centaur Herdsmen kept taking turns stamping their hooves, clearly nervous.
Richard looked around. The entire place was solemn and silent. He nodded.
"Form up here."
The hills extended in gentle slopes across a wide area in every direction. Failing to make use of this terrain would have been foolish. Gravity gave the defenders a considerable advantage.
The wait before battle was always exceptionally long. Richard sat on a low stool with his legs crossed and waited nearly two full hours before the bandits' figures slowly emerged on the horizon.
"They have more than five hundred—almost six hundred." Annie gave a quiet reminder. Her elven blood granted her far better eyesight than ordinary people.
High Mountain Keep had only seventy troops in total. Even including the combat-capable mercenaries, they had fewer than ninety. A simple calculation showed that the enemy had a full sixfold numerical advantage!
And despite this extreme disadvantage, Richard still planned to keep the mercenaries in reserve, using only High Mountain Keep's own forces as the main attackers. In reality, the two sides' numbers were seventy against five hundred, widening the gap to eightfold.
Annie couldn't help clutching the corner of her clothes, her palms slick with sweat. Based on her understanding of military affairs, such an overwhelming disparity was enough to support a brutal siege. She had no idea where the lord of High Mountain Keep got the confidence to remain so calm.
"Mm." Richard narrowed his eyes as he observed the approaching enemy forces.
To be honest, he was a little surprised—but not simply because of their numbers.
Unlike the typical wilderness brawl in which everyone charged together and used whatever weapon they happened to have, this bandit force had actually been roughly divided by troop type.
Seven or eight Gnoll cavalrymen riding Direwolves prowled on each side of the formation's front, running back and forth in the direction of the main force's advance.
Gnolls were an exceptionally brave and warlike race, accustomed to taming Direwolves as companions and mounts. Their shared bloodlines gave Gnolls and Direwolves an extraordinary rapport. Their natural alertness and keen sense of smell also made them ideal scouts.
At the center was a huge, bloated mass of infantry. Among the many Gnolls, werewolves, and savages were quite a few Hobgoblin warriors, who were specifically responsible for maintaining discipline and preventing the entire formation from falling apart as it advanced.
What surprised him even more was that the front row of infantry was actually carrying a motley assortment of shields.
Though it was easy to see that the shields had all been made from door panels and offered extremely poor protection, Richard still rubbed his eyes twice before he dared believe what he was seeing.
At this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if several archers emerged from the rear of the formation and put on two reasonably convincing volleys of covering fire. There were definitely people among the bandits who knew what they were doing.
It was crude, but this already counted as the embryonic form of an army.
"What do we do?" Annie noticed that the barbarians standing at the very front looked the calmest, while the mercenaries hiding at the rear had the palest faces.
"Prepare to meet the enemy." Richard tossed out the words, then jogged toward the Windchaser giant beast.
His movements were light, but the weight of the three layers of armor was no joke. Every step left a deep footprint behind him.
The bandit force advancing aggressively clearly faltered.
A knight clad in three layers of armor sat atop the dark, heavy back of an Iron-eating Armadillo. He looked as if he had been cast entirely from steel, and the slightest movement produced the grating scrape of metal plates that set people's teeth on edge.
The mountain-sized beast slowly turned, and the steel knight atop it seized the four-meter-long Giant Lance. The cumbersome lance was no harder for him to control than a single saber. The knight casually swung it twice, and its muffled whistle through the air made everyone's hearts tremble.
Even standing there without moving made people imagine how the earth would split and mountains collapse once he began his charge.
Annie had never understood how High Mountain Keep could maintain its morale despite its overwhelming disadvantage in numbers. Now she vaguely understood. Even by the most conservative estimate, this one heavy cavalryman could match a hundred infantrymen.
The Hobgoblins maintaining military discipline frantically beat the halted bandits with wooden clubs, making the entire formation slowly begin advancing again.
"Heaven gave them a good chance to survive, but unfortunately, they don't know how to cherish it." Richard fastened his helmet, his face concealed behind a ferocious iron plate. He clamped his legs hard against the mount, and the cumbersome Iron-eating Armadillo began to move.
The barbarian warriors kept close on either side of him, forming a V-shaped assault arrowhead, with Richard as its sharpest point.
The arrows arrived before they did.
The centaurs gathered in the rear and raised their arms high, sending feathered arrows arcing into the bandit formation. Their rate of fire wasn't fast, but their rhythm was exceptionally steady. Each time the longbows thrummed in unison, a wave of miserable screams rose up.
The bandits could never have imagined that the shields they had specially prepared to defend against ranged attacks would be completely useless against the centaurs' curved volleys.
The rain of arrows swept over the shield-bearers' heads, then plunged into the formation like diving falcons. In an instant, more than a dozen bandits who had thought themselves perfectly safe were knocked down!
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