Richard's Mounted Warfare System

Under the system's enhancement, Richard's senses were far keener than an ordinary person's.

The dim, moonless night posed no obstacle for him, allowing him to see a considerable number of scattered corpses on the open ground ahead. Scavenging coyotes squabbled among the bodies, their bellies distended from gorging themselves.

These corpses belonged to both wilderness folk and Dwarves.

Some were still relatively fresh, frozen in their final moments. Others had clearly been there for a significant time, with flies and maggots crawling in and out of their eye sockets, and their bellies bloated as if about to burst.

"What a terrible smell," Annie said, wrinkling her nose and pinching it shut. She should be glad Half-Elves didn't fully inherit the Elven sense of sight.

After all, it was summer, and a piece of raw meat left out overnight would spoil.

"Yeah, smells like blue cheese," Richard replied casually.

Dwarven culture placed immense importance on concepts like kin, ancestors, and souls. If even the bodies of their fallen comrades hadn't been given any proper burial, it could only mean their situation had become dire.

And that was indeed the case.

The Dwarves had clearly put a lot of thought into building their home.

Their camp was set on a high ground by the lake, where the terrain was relatively elevated. The gentle slopes at the edges had been artificially removed, creating a waist-high vertical drop. A two-fathom-high wall of stone and slag had been built atop it, making it quite defensible.

But now, several sections of the wall had been breached, and about a hundred hulking, dark figures, like mountains of flesh, were surging through the gaps, attacking fiercely.

Each of them stood over two and a half fathoms tall, with torsos wider than door planks, incredibly fierce and powerful. These were the savage and brutal Bearfolk warriors. But to Richard's surprise, a considerable number of smaller figures were accompanying them, scurrying around with crude wooden spears and bamboo lances, cooperating with the Bearfolk.

These small figures had easily identifiable red eyes and large ears, and excellent leaping abilities. If one ignored the blood on their faces, they were generally quite cute.

Rabbit-headed Humanoids? The lord exclaimed in his heart, How could Bearfolk stoop to associating with Rabbit-headed Humanoids?

The tall, strong Bearfolk standing beside the slender, small Rabbit-headed Humanoids created an extreme visual contrast that was quite striking. This combination reminded him of a joke about a bear and a little white rabbit.

"What's so strange about that?" Annie said matter-of-factly. "They're Bearfolk vassals."

"Vassals?" Richard scoured his memory, but found no knowledge that corresponded to the situation before him.

But when he blinked at Annie, then at Gunther and Hert, he saw that each of them wore an expression of complete unsurprise.

So the lord immediately put on a show of nodding, "Oh, they're vassals, then."

His act was so obviously forced that the air around them fell silent for a moment, then Annie couldn't help but let out a giggle.

It was Hert who came to his rescue: "My lord, powerful races like the Bearfolk often specialize in combat and are not good at production, so they take in some vassals to do their chores, and they bring them along for support in battle."

"Generally, large tribes consist of a suzerain and vassals, only small tribes are single-race," Gunther added, scratching his head.

"If you knew, why didn't you say something earlier?" Richard was exasperated.

"How could we have imagined you wouldn't even know that?" Annie was even more exasperated.

The environmental differences were starkly evident at this moment. Richard had always stayed in the Southern Province and had few opportunities to encounter such information, while the three, who were very familiar with tribal environments, couldn't imagine anyone not knowing such common sense.

"Tsk, tsk." The lord lay in the thicket, pulled out his binoculars, and watched for a while longer, then couldn't help but click his tongue.

Annie had mentioned earlier that to show their resolve, the Bearfolk warriors had all gouged out one of their own eyes. At the time, Richard thought these guys, though simple-minded, truly lived up to their reputation as ruthless individuals, to be able to do such a thing.

Now, looking at them, that wasn't the case at all—it was true that the Rabbit-headed Humanoids each had one eye gouged out, but their suzerain, the Bearfolk, clearly had both eyes intact. It seemed that even if it meant sacrificing every last Rabbit-headed Humanoid, the Bearfolk tribe would never give up.

"Miss Annie, you said large tribes have thousands of warriors. Does that include their vassal races?" Richard seemed to see a glimmer of victory. He noticed that the number of Bearfolk was at most one-quarter to one-fifth that of the Rabbit-headed Humanoids.

Although this world wasn't fair, in many aspects, there was at least a balance. While dominant races like the Bearfolk were powerful, their reproductive capacity simply couldn't compare to that of Rabbit-headed Humanoids, and this was nature's restraint on them.

"Mm." Annie nodded. "Don't underestimate the Rabbit-headed Humanoids. As long as their suzerain is present, they will often fight alongside them to the very end."

"What if the suzerain isn't present?" Richard couldn't help but ask out of curiosity.

"Uh... they might surrender without resisting."

"Damn, so they're only good when they're winning, huh?" The lord silently discounted the Bearfolk's threat level by eighty percent in his mind.

It was clearly unreasonable to count everyone equally, regardless of their strengths or weaknesses. The combat power of the suzerain and vassals was a world apart.

While the Rabbit-headed Humanoids were more numerous, saying they "made up the numbers" was a compliment.

The first thing the Dwarves did after mining and smelting iron was to arm their kin. This resulted in their extremely luxurious equipment, with fine full plate armor issued even to common soldiers, making the High Mountain Keep guards, who were just beginning to re-equip, drool with envy.

Though short, they were sturdy and strong, and skilled with hammers, so their combat ability was actually quite good.

The High Mountain Keep's military industry, under the wise leadership of the lord, was just starting. The re-equipment order was weapons first, then armor. The Centaur Busmi were all staunch adherents of the "slow work makes fine goods" theory, and their output was even less than that of the sole laying hen. The guard had only just managed to complete one round of weapon re-equipment before setting out.

So the Barbarians' iron armor varied greatly in quality, with many pieces being spoils of war from earlier battles. Compared to the Dwarves, they clearly had a "poor peasant" vibe.

But if the comparison object was changed to the Bearfolk, they would feel incredibly fortunate. The Bearfolk's equipment couldn't even compare to High Mountain Keep's. At best, they could barely manage to equip each person with a main heavy weapon. Iron armor, for them, was a luxury only a few could possess.

Many Bearfolk warriors could only wear self-made leather armor, whose defensive capability was barely better than nothing.

Yet, in actual combat, the best-equipped Dwarves gained no advantage against the ragged Bearfolk. These orcish warriors were simply too fierce and too strong!

Roaring wildly, they swung their arms, delivering heavy blows. The crude weapons landed with force, and the clang of metal on metal was like the ringing of a bell. The Dwarven warriors, encased in their iron cans, were still beaten to the point of spitting blood.

In contrast, while the Rabbit-headed Humanoids also appeared brave, their actual performance explained why vassals could only be vassals—against thick plate armor, their clumsy attacks felt like tickles, completely cannon fodder level.

The main reason the Bearfolk brought them along was likely to distract the Dwarves.