Stalemate

Gela stood towards the back of the Krad People's formation, his hands and feet cold, feeling extremely nervous.

It wasn't the young man's first time participating in an invasion of the Redka Empire's Northern Territory. In previous raids, they had successfully carried off a good amount of supplies, and he had been fortunate enough to survive several terrible winters.

Holding a wooden club embedded with wooden spikes, Glen felt like he was almost frozen solid. He had to plunder enough supplies. Just thinking about the Redka people's delicious food and beautiful women he'd enjoyed last winter filled him with burning desire.

Constantly hungry, he could only occasionally eat his fill after successfully plundering the Northern Territory. For him, being full was not just a luxury but also a rare treat for the common people of the North.

In this era of low productivity, aside from freemen, it was difficult for anyone to have enough food to last a year after paying their taxes to the lord. They had to gather wild vegetables and other foods to stave off hunger.

This was why serfs were typically short and scrawny, but even so, their bodies were still much stronger than those of the Krad People.

"Kill them!" a tribal chieftain next to Glen shouted, waving the weapon in his hand. His face was flushed red from the cold and excitement.

He watched as his fellow tribesmen in front of him fell one by one under the enemies' spears. With each swing of a spear, a Krad person would fall to the ground, while their own weapons, striking the enemy, were blocked by the leather and chainmail worn by Reiner's regular army stationed here, making it hard to inflict damage.

Small amounts of fresh blood appeared on the snow, like crimson pearls dripping onto the ground, adding a splash of color to the monochromatic, icy landscape.

The melee battle had been going on for a while, and the Krad People had already lost about forty to fifty men. Sweat beaded on Gela's cold palms. He had to switch hands holding the club and then wipe his right hand on his animal hide clothing.

He licked his lips, which were pale from malnutrition. Many of the tribal warriors in front had already fallen, and it would soon be his turn to face the enemy directly.

Gela had always been very confident in his luck and strength. He didn't believe he would coincidentally die at the hands of the enemy. He believed he would, as always, survive the battlefield and return home with rich spoils to share with his family.

"For the tribe!" Gela shouted, raising the animal-tooth-studded club in his hand. The tribal warrior in front of him had already fallen under the Redka people's spears.

At this moment, the Morland Army was also having a tough time. In just five minutes, they had lost nearly twenty men, and many more were wounded. Of course, most of the wounded were serfs and some freemen who lacked armor protection. Reiner's Morland Army didn't suffer significant losses.

Gela swung the club in his hand at an enemy in front of him, having noticed that the opponent's leather armor was somewhat damaged. He felt his strike could inflict enough damage.

"Uh… what happened?" Gela stared blankly at the unharmed enemy in front of him, seemingly not yet having processed it.

"Damn Krad People!" the Moreland Family soldier in front of Gela growled. The blow he'd just taken had indeed stung a bit, but thanks to the layer of chainmail on the outside, plus the warm leather armor and thick padded clothing underneath, he had sustained virtually no damage.

With such equipment, even the maces used by knights would struggle to inflict damage, unless the opponent attacked from horseback, utilizing the horse's charging force.

The animal-tooth clubs used by the Krad People couldn't compare to maces, so they suffered almost no harm.

The Northern Territory, whether in terms of population, technology, or productivity, could not compare to the imperial heartland. But its one advantage was its abundant production of iron.

A full suit of chainmail could fetch five gold coins in the heartland, but here in the North, Reiner could even equip half of his ordinary soldiers with iron chainmail.

Soldiers of heartland lords were lucky to even wear padded clothing, and many knights could only fight in leather-and-chain composite armor. Serfs, meanwhile, were relegated to fighting with pitchforks and wooden clubs.

"Go to hell! You wicked Krad People! Let the Holy Father judge your sins!" the soldier growled, then thrust his spear deep into the opponent's chest.

Gela's face was filled with shock. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, then cold air quickly rushed in, and a warm, trickling sensation spread over his body, giving him a rare moment of warmth.

However, after this brief moment of happiness, a wave of weakness washed over him. His vision blurred, and he quickly lost consciousness, collapsing into the cold snow.

A young life thus fell on the plains of the North. He was just one of the fallen soldiers. Seven or eight minutes had passed, and the Krad People had already left over 150 corpses on the ground.

However, their numbers still seemed very large. In what appeared to be an overwhelming situation, the notion that they would collapse after losing a tenth of their force was unrealistic.

The soldier who killed Gela retrieved his two-meter spear, expressionlessly continuing to face the enemies who were still surging forward, as if the Krad person who had just died hadn't fallen by their hands.

The freemen also fought the enemy with their spears, but the conscripted serfs, armed with pitchforks and picks, hesitantly skirmished with the enemy. Even with the regular army inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy, their force of less than two hundred men was still teetering under the Krad People's assault.

At this moment, Reiner had already led the remaining thirty regular army infantry and knights to the Krad People's rear-flank. Highlander, their leader, had been watching their movements, and the soldiers in the rear had all turned to face them.

The red-backed fleur-de-lis banner, symbolizing the Moreland Family, flapped in the cold wind. Some snow spray was blown up by the strong wind, brushing against the knights' armor, warhorses, and the pennants on their lances. They advanced through the snow, holding four-meter lances. None of this escaped the enemy's notice. In this kind of small-scale warfare, all deployments were clearly visible, which was also why nobles valued individual bravery.

Reiner took a breath, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at the enemy in the rear, who were already prepared. If they were to launch a surprise attack on the enemy's rear as originally planned, the effect would certainly be diminished.

After some consideration, Reiner said to Sir Valas, "Here! Attack the enemy!"

The knights' combat power was extremely strong; they didn't necessarily need to be in the enemy's rear to charge. The enemy's flank was completely undefended, and charging from the side now could inflict massive damage.