Barbarians Invade the Border

Amid the ice and snow, the weather was bitterly cold. The sun had lost its summer arrogance, reduced to a tiny white disc that feebly gave off what little heat it could. Under winter's shroud, the sky had grown much dimmer, leaving everyone in a gloomy mood.

Reiner wore a thick padded coat, covered by the heavy linen armor that had originally been worn beneath his chainmail, along with a leather cuirass. All of it was meant to keep him warm, yet in such severe cold, he could still feel the biting wind constantly drilling into his body.

The tents they had brought along proved quite useful, but even so, the cold wind still penetrated them and blew over everyone.

This was one of the reasons no one was willing to wage war outdoors during winter. By Reiner's estimate, the temperature here was probably thirty or forty degrees below zero.

"Woo—woo!" A brass horn sounded. It was the assembly call for all of Morland Castle. Not only Reiner's own troops, but also the soldiers under the knights could recognize the signal.

Even with a soul born in northeastern China, he found it difficult to endure such cold, much less the even harsher climate of the Frigid Forest.

The soldiers also wore thick padded coats and leather armor. Although half of them had been equipped with chainmail, wearing it in this weather was undoubtedly a form of torture.

Iron armor became frigid in such weather, so unless there was a battle to fight, no one was willing to wear metal armor. But clearly, that was no longer an option. After more than three months of discipline training under Reiner, they had basically learned to obey orders without hesitation. Though they could not compare to the strictly disciplined armies of later China, they were among the best of this era.

They quickly helped one another don their armor, then picked up their spears, fastened their longswords at their waists, put on their helmets, and rushed out of the tents to form ranks.

Their formation was very orderly. Sixty infantrymen and twenty Archers quickly assembled together.

The soldiers brought by the knights, however, were different. Most were serfs and freemen hastily gathered for the occasion, and their weapons were a motley assortment. The better-equipped ones had wooden maces and linen gambesons, while the worse-off wore only ordinary padded coats and carried wooden clubs or dung forks as they followed their masters onto the battlefield.

Aside from their squires, each knight had brought roughly a dozen such levies. Other than those made up of freemen, their fighting strength was extremely low. Their usual food lacked nutrition, and their average height was only around one meter sixty. They were not quite skin and bones, but they were certainly far from robust—well below even the average level of Chinese people.

Living under the trembling oppression of their lords year after year had also made them extremely cowardly. It would be difficult for that to change without a certain amount of training.

At last, more than ten minutes later, they managed to form a disorderly formation beside Reiner's own troops. The divide between the two sides was clear, and the difference was obvious.

With the help of several squires, Reiner put on his full suit of chainmail, then placed a warm iron helmet lined with animal fur over his head. All the knights had already assembled and were waiting outside Reiner's tent.

Once dressed in armor, Reiner hung a fine longsword at his waist. A squire led over his warhorse, then knelt on all fours so Reiner could step on his back and mount.

Reiner accepted this "feudal decadence" without the slightest burden. At first, he had found it somewhat difficult to get used to, but after enough time had passed, he understood that one had to follow the rules of the age one lived in.

If Reiner did not step on the man's back, the man might instead fear that he had somehow offended the Baron.

Reiner looked toward the direction where the Wolf Smoke Signal had been lit. It was not far from him, seemingly only around two kilometers away.

"Enemy forces have appeared! We will defeat them here! Defend our homes and lands, and everyone shall earn supreme glory!" Reiner shouted from atop his warhorse, though his voice was muffled by the warm helmet.

At least the people around him heard him. Indeed, even if they won this battle, there would not be much to gain. At most, they could capture some prisoners to sell, but few people wanted Krad People slaves. They were thin, short, and difficult to tame, so they could hardly fetch a good price.

But they all knew that if the enemy truly broke through their line of defense, their families and lands would suffer a devastating blow.

News that a barony had already fallen had spread through more than half of the Northern Frontier. That place had long since become a living hell. If Morland Castle fell, it would undoubtedly meet the same fate.

Even if they survived, they would become Wandering Knights without fiefs. Their lives would become desperately difficult, and they might even end up as rogue knights.

The miserable life that failure could bring filled them with an incredibly strong will to fight. Thus, Reiner led them toward the burning Wolf Smoke Signal.

In less than half an hour, they reached the area near the signal. From there, they could already see the invading Krad People.

Amid the deep snow, the Krad People wore bloated furs and shivered violently, yet they still trudged forward with wooden clubs or bone weapons in their hands.

The people in the enemy's "formation" were remarkably uniform—all of them were young men. Though harsh lives had made them look older than they were, it was clear that they were still very young.

This was not because the Krad People respected the elderly and cared for the young, sparing old men from battle. Rather, life in the Frigid Forest was so harsh that most people never lived past forty. Many died in that frozen land while still in their thirties.

A faint wisp of white vapor drifted from Reiner's helmet, formed when his warm breath met the freezing air.

There appeared to be around eight or nine hundred Krad People. At the front was a man dressed in noticeably warmer clothing, riding a reindeer. He was perhaps the chief of this tribe. Besides him, there were several others dressed not much differently, holding bone weapons or, in rare cases, iron weapons.

Those were their warriors. Every tribe needed some stronger fighters to protect its safety.

Reiner had learned from the knights and from his uncle, Sir Cord, that these tribal warriors were the most troublesome enemies during the annual raids.

Although their weapons and equipment were extremely crude, their physical strength could rival that of freemen or standing soldiers. Most of Morland Castle's casualties during enemy sieges had been caused by these men.

Reiner lightly licked his lips, not daring to do it too much for fear that the cold wind would freeze and crack the corners of his mouth. He knew the enemy's will to fight was both resolute and fragile.

If they could inflict enormous casualties on the enemy in a single blow, the Krad People would quickly retreat in fear. After all, death was the greatest fear of all living things.

But if they did not crush them at the very beginning, hunger would make them cast aside their fear of death. They would die if they returned without food anyway, so they might as well fight here. Perhaps they still had a chance to live.