Turning the Tide! Slaughtering Through the Enemy Ranks!

Dust billowed into the air.

The cavalry slowly picked up speed, then broke into a full gallop as they entered the battlefield. Duncan drew Oathkeeper, raised the small shield hanging from his saddle, and led a troop of riders in a detour around the enemy's left rear, charging straight at the several hundred Saxon Hunters ahead.

"Lord Duncan!"

"Reinforcements have arrived!"

Cheers rose from atop Exeter's wooden walls. The wavering morale temporarily stabilized; the appearance of a single man gave those dispirited soldiers the courage to keep fighting.

"Cover Lord Duncan!"

A traditional Celtic warrior roared, "British Legion, with me!"

That furious cry actually caused the British Legion soldiers around him to regroup.

Kill!

By then, Duncan had already plunged straight into the enemy. The sixteen riders formed a simple Wedge Formation and charged directly at the caught-off-guard Saxon Archers. Only when they were nearly upon them did the Saxon Pirates react, and the enemy commander hurriedly led a Chieftain Guard force over to reinforce them.

But it was already a little too late.

Splat!

Blood gushed forth.

A head flew into the air!

Oathkeeper flashed with an icy gleam.

With a casual swing of his hand, Duncan's Oathkeeper Sword sliced off the head of a Saxon Elite Forest Hunter as easily as cutting tofu. The spurting blood drenched the surrounding enemies from head to toe. Archer units had relatively poor equipment; many did not even have leather armor, and their only weapon was a short sword.

Slash!

Hack!

The simplest moves left severed limbs in every strike. Duncan took the lead, breaking through the formation alone. The sixteen riders behind him steadily expanded their gains. Cú Chulainn cut down a Saxon Hunter who appeared to be a squad leader with one blow, while Clegane used Lance Charge to skewer an enemy through the body, then instantly drew his blade and slashed left and right.

In an instant, the sixteen riders had carved through the entire Saxon Hunter unit. Heads rolled, corpses covered the ground, and the archer force descended into chaos.

The first cavalry charge—if it touched you, you died.

--Saxon Forest Hunter (morale wavering) (encountered a powerful enemy) (terror) (heavy casualties)!

Duncan cut down five or six men in rapid succession, moving through them as if no one stood in his way.

Of the sixteen riders behind him, Cú Chulainn killed three in a row, Clegane cut down two, and the others each claimed their own kills. Together, they had slain more than twenty enemies in one go, shattering the Saxon Hunters' morale. Some had already begun to flee.

When cavalry reached the archers, it was nothing short of a massacre!

There was no need to wait for Duncan to lead his men back for another charge. The Saxon Hunters were already scrambling to flee. By himself, he smashed through three defensive lines in succession, turning the three hundred-odd Saxon Hunters into a tangled mess and chasing them all over the hillside. The chaos gradually spread across the battlefield, causing the troops at the front to repeatedly look back.

By the time they had completely punched through the enemy formation, only thirteen of the sixteen riders behind Duncan remained.

Cú Chulainn had been struck in the left arm by an arrow, but he did not even furrow his brow as he snapped the shaft off. He wore scale armor; such a wound was no great concern.

Clegane's Sarmatian Rider had stayed closest to him and had suffered little injury. They had merely all discarded their lances and drawn the sabers and longswords at their waists.

That hard charge had cost them three riders.

Duncan's heart bled slightly, but he did not look back. He led the others around the western gate from the side. Thanks to his slaughterous charge, the British Legion had gained a chance to catch its breath, and their morale had recovered considerably. The area around the fallen gate had also been retaken, and some were even trying to organize a counterattack to support them.

Behind every great general's success lay ten thousand bones.

Duncan did not look at the three who had fallen from their horses. He alone stayed behind to cover the retreat, took out Noden's Bow, nocked an arrow, and drew. The arrow whistled through the air, and a heavily armored chieftain guard closing in from afar was instantly knocked from his horse.

The arrow pierced through his chest, nearly punching through his armor!

The sight stunned the enemy.

Noden's Bow was far more powerful than the Northern War Bow. Duncan was not sure exactly how many pounds it drew, but he estimated around three hundred pounds, because the Stamina Bar consumed by drawing it fully had clearly increased by a small segment.

This time, Duncan had come prepared and brought a quiver of Armor-Piercing Arrows.

Parthian Shot!

Just as the enemy hesitated over whether to continue the pursuit, Duncan nocked another arrow and drew his bow again. The bow curved like a full moon, and the arrow tore through the air, shooting straight through the head of an elite chieftain guard. It entered through the side of his face and pierced his skull; the Armor-Piercing Arrowhead nearly passed through his helmet.

The enemy fell into a panic and no longer had the courage to pursue!

Duncan rode forward several dozen paces and fired at a forty-five-degree angle, aiming from long range toward the enemy commander.

He did not dare get too close, because the enemy still had several hundred archers.

Twannng!

The bowstring trembled.

That arrow directly killed the barbarian commander's warhorse, frightening the chieftain guards around him into desperately escorting him toward the rear.

The battle for Exeter came to an abrupt halt!

Amid the cheers of the British Legion, the main force of the Saxon Pirates began to withdraw. They seemed to have realized that they could not take the town for the time being.

Because the enemy's Chieftain Guard had already retreated.

Once the barbarian commander withdrew, the troops besieging the front began to waver in morale and soon retreated as well.

Duncan stood alone on horseback.

After making a circuit of the battlefield, he swaggered straight into Exeter through the main gate that the Saxon Pirates had been besieging.

No one dared to stop him. No one dared to block his way!

Though he had only sixteen riders with him, their charge had frightened off nearly two thousand Saxon Pirates.

If Duncan's cavalry had been a little more elite and a little more numerous, he would have dared to try taking the enemy commander's head from amidst an army of ten thousand.

Exeter.

Thunderous cheers erupted one after another.

After entering the town, the first thing Duncan did was put on the Lord's Armor stripped from Duke of Tintagel. Then he gathered the duke's guard knights and formed an elite cavalry force of more than thirty men.

Because under God's Eye View, he had already seen another Saxon army approaching.

--Horsa [Leader] [Chieftain] [Odin's Gaze] [Legendary] (Two-Star Gold)!

Horsa was furious.

He came from one branch of the Germanic peoples, the Jutes, who roughly hailed from the regions around Denmark.

The Jutes had been the earliest Germanic Barbarians to migrate to and invade Britain Island. Later, the Saxons and Angles joined them, forming a power that occupied the southern part of Britain Island.

He should have inherited his elder brother Hengist's throne with ease, but due to the Anglo-Saxons' interference, Horsa had been forced to divide the land and rule separately from his own nephew. Those troublemakers clearly wanted to split the Jutes apart, yet Horsa could do nothing about it and could only grit his teeth in rage.

Historically, after the Jutes declined, the Saxons had led an ethnic cleansing, and the Jutes had been among its victims.

"Wipe out Duke of Tintagel completely. With the momentum of a great victory, force them to bow their heads!"

Horsa did not want a civil war.

On Britain Island, the Celts still held the population advantage. If a barbarian civil war truly broke out, the years of hard work he and his brother had put in would be utterly destroyed. The Saxons were systematically carrying out the first phase of ethnic cleansing on Britain Island. Simply put, they made British women bear their children, and bit by bit, the natives would become history.

For the specific methods, one could look to how America wiped out the Indian natives.

Over these decades of invasion, there might still have been many British natives elsewhere, but around Kent County, the cleansing and assimilation had more or less been completed.

"Enfes was defeated?"

Horsa, traveling amid the escort of the Chieftain Guard, changed expression. His face twisted with fury as he said, "Useless trash!"

"Didn't he guarantee that he could take Exeter?"

Enfes had risen from the Saxon Pirates. In the early days, the barbarians who invaded Britain Island had all been pirates who plundered wherever they went. Once they had men, wealth, and territory, they gradually evolved into Britain's noble warlords.

Furthermore, Southampton, the fief Duke of Tintagel had promised Duncan, was Enfes's territory.

He also controlled the Isle of Wight.

A barbarian general at the side snickered mockingly. "Could Enfes have wasted too much energy on virgins?"

"Has he got no strength left to pick up a weapon and fight?"

The barbarian messenger flushed red with anger and gritted his teeth. "Duncan, the one rumored to have shot and killed His Majesty the King, appeared."

"He led a little over ten riders and scattered our archers."

"It caused chaos."

"Lord Enfes led the Chieftain Guard in pursuit, but Duncan shot down two men in succession and even killed my lord's warhorse."

A deathly silence fell.

The people around them exchanged looks, unable to help glancing toward Horsa ahead. Duncan's reputation had simply grown too great lately.

Shooting down a founding monarch was already a major event, and Avalon had been secretly fanning the flames behind Duncan. Though Celtic Mythology had waned by now, it still possessed a measure of strength on Britain Island. Druid priests held broad influence among the native tribes; once the news spread, Duncan's name would immediately resound across all of Britain Island.

"Duncan!!!"

Horsa's face was filled with hatred. No matter how fiercely he and his nephew fought over the throne, his bond with his brother had been genuine. The two brothers had invaded Britain Island together and built the foundation of the King of Kent's realm. They had truly been brothers who lived and died together.

His brother had been extraordinarily powerful, one of the foremost warriors among the Germanic Barbarians, yet he had died in such a stifled, humiliating manner.

A ballista bolt had pierced his chest, and he had endured for a full half hour before finally breathing his last.

"Speed up the entire army!"

"Surround Exeter immediately," Horsa ordered decisively.

Exeter was not a fortress in Cornwall. Its defenses were nowhere near as solid. If they could trap the enemy inside, perhaps he could kill that Duncan and avenge his brother.

This time, Horsa had gathered around three thousand men. Together with Enfes's Saxon Pirates, they had a force of more than five thousand.

Exeter.

After taking command of the troops there, Duncan immediately ordered the soldiers to tear down houses and repair the wooden walls on all four sides.

Duke of Tintagel had conscripted more than two thousand troops. After yesterday's minor defeat, roughly fifteen or sixteen hundred remained. As long as they held out until tomorrow, when Kevito arrived with his forces, Duncan would have more than two thousand men under his command—barely enough to face Horsa's army head-on.

In truth, Britain Island's population was still mostly made up of natives, but whenever the armies clashed, the Britons had always been the weaker side.

"There's no ballista this time. I can only find an opportunity myself."

Duncan was inspecting the defenses. Exeter had only a ring of wooden walls a little over three meters high, which could not stop a large army at all. There were no proper defensive facilities either, only a few towers that were better than nothing.

He promoted Cú Chulainn on the spot to commander of the British Legion, ordering him to reorganize the troops and concentrate the main force.

Night fell.

Horsa had already led his army in completely surrounding Exeter. Unlike their previous clash, Duncan spotted some special units this time.

Germanic Screaming Warrior (One-Star)

Horsa had brought out his true reserves. There were even female warriors among them. Their equipment was slightly inferior, but they looked equally fierce and battle-hardened.

The enemy force was nearly three times the size of his own. Duncan did not dare act rashly.

At dawn.

The enemy began to make their move. Using God's Eye View to issue orders, Duncan deployed troops to defend the wooden walls. Whenever a centuria showed "Shaken Morale" or "Utterly Exhausted," he immediately had them withdraw and replaced them with fresh units.

Horsa concentrated his main force near the eastern gate, while dispatching another army in an attempt to secretly breach the southern gate.

Under God's Eye View, the enemy's plans were laid bare.

Duncan gave orders without expression. Cú Chulainn led a centuria of the British Legion and successfully repelled the enemy.

Exeter's defenses were like an iron barrel!

Without the slightest flaw.

By midday, even Horsa could no longer endure it. He could not help exclaiming, "I have never seen a commander so skilled at defense!"

"He anticipated our every move in advance."

Under these circumstances, there was no way to deploy surprise troops. They could only fight head-on. Almost as soon as the Saxon elite units made a move, Duncan inside Exeter had already assembled troops to counter them.

He even personally directed the Welsh Archers several times, seizing opportunities to concentrate their fire and inflict considerable casualties on them.

What the hell!

How did he know where our commanders were positioned?

During the previous assault, a Barbarian Warrior had attempted to lead Elite Pirate Warriors in a forceful attack. Before they even made it up the wall, a rain of arrows descended, directly blanketing the commander's location and shooting that Two-Star Saxon warrior dead on the spot.

Naturally, Duncan was not sure which one was the commander either.

But the Germanic Barbarians respected strength. Among the charging enemy targets, anyone with an extra label or a star-rating marker was a priority target for concentrated fire.

Saxon Elite Axemen, Saxon Pirate Warriors—picking them off one by one would eventually take out some enemy commanders.

Virgin Taker Enfes's Saxon pirate forces suffered grievous casualties!

Horsa did not dare move his own elites. He forcibly pressured Enfes to send the elite pirates forward. Pirates and soldiers were considered two separate systems: one was land-based infantry, the other an early form of navy.

These repeated forced assaults had nearly crippled the Saxon pirates' entire strength.

"We can't keep forcing an assault!"

A Saxon Pirate Warrior rushed before Enfes, his face twisted as he said, "If the casualties continue, we won't be able to control the English Channel."

These were all naval forces!

Although early navies were not that useful, if the Saxon pirates suffered too many casualties, they would no longer be able to blockade the coastline.

These Saxon pirates had played an extremely important role in the invasion of Britain.

"If we fail to take this place, Horsa will cut off our heads." Enfes's expression was equally savage.

They were already riding a tiger and unable to dismount.

Unless Enfes's Saxon pirates were nearly spent, Horsa's main force would absolutely not enter the field first. The truly easy battles would never fall to them.

Pirates were the unwanted stepchildren.

They were not part of Hengist and Horsa's core following, and were often used in wars of attrition. The pirates had originally been criminals, bandits, thieves, and the like, men who had no way to survive back home and had taken to sea as Sea Raiders. The brothers' true foundation lay in the "respectable sons" of the Germanic Barbarians.

These genuine Germanic "respectable sons" had higher morale and better equipment. Many had come from the noble warrior class of clan society.

"Armor me!"

Virgin Taker Enfes was tall and lean, not the traditionally broad-shouldered, thick-waisted sort of warrior, but he was immensely strong. In his early years, he had been his tribe's Gladiator Champion. It could roughly be understood as Germanic People liking to drink and fight when they had nothing better to do, something akin to underground bare-knuckle boxing. Whoever defeated every challenger in the tribe became the Gladiator Champion.

His nickname in those days had been "Champion of Champions Enfes." Later, because of his obsession with virgins, it became "Virgin Taker Enfes."

Ever since his nickname changed, Enfes's life had gone downhill day by day.

Some Saxon pirates were even unwilling to join him!

What the hell.

Champion of Champions—now that sounded like the nickname of a true badass. Following him could not possibly go wrong! There was a future in it!

Virgin Taker?

Was this guy some kind of weakling? Real Germanic Warriors liked mature married women! Only a man who conquered a lust-starved married woman was a true tough guy!

Names could be wrong, but nicknames never were.

After Enfes's nickname changed, many ferocious pirates defected to others.

When someone asked who your boss was, you would lose face just blurting out Enfes's nickname!

A squad of Elite Pirate Warriors began to gather.

Enfes donned his armor, put on an iron pot helmet, and took up a large shield. He prepared to attack the wooden wall from the southeast side. The defenses there were relatively weak, consisting mostly of militia and the Auxiliary Legion. As long as they could get up the wall, the Elite Pirate Warriors could quickly tear open a breach.

--Virgin Taker - Enfes (Two-Star Silver-Gray) (Gladiator Champion) (Pirate Chieftain)!

He was here.

Duncan immediately noticed that the enemy's elite troops had begun to move.

After considering it, he decided to let them come closer first.

Those men were too well-equipped, clad in heavy armor and carrying great shields. Duncan could not guarantee a one-hit kill, so he would let them approach before hitting them with heavy javelins.

Duncan began to move.

He casually picked up a heavy javelin and advanced toward the enemy. As he accelerated into a run, God's Eye View had already locked onto and marked the target.

"They're coming up!"

"Charge with me!"

Enfes cleaved the British Militia before him to death with a single axe blow, then immediately led his men in tearing open a breach.

But at that moment—

A javelin streaked through the air. With a wet thud, it plunged straight into his body, and the tremendous impact sent him tumbling from the wooden wall.

Thud!

Enfes hit the ground, his vision already blurring. He could not speak at all. A 1.2-meter-long javelin was embedded in his body; when he fell, it had nearly pierced through his chest.

Killed in one blow!

The surrounding Elite Pirate Warriors instantly scattered. The Farron Throwing Axe in Duncan's hand whistled through the air and split open an enemy's skull.

The glory of being first over the wall was not so easily claimed!

With Enfes dead, the enemy's pirate troops immediately fell into chaos. At this moment, Horsa finally made his move. He swiftly dispatched Saxon Noble Riders to gather the scattered remnants nearby and swallowed up Enfes's entire force in one gulp.

They had fought themselves nearly to the limit by now.

In the earlier waves of attacks, the ones dying had all been Enfes's pirate troops. Only now did his Elite Heavy Infantry begin to advance and hold the line.

At the same time—

At the edge of the Strategic Map, an army marked in green gradually approached the battlefield.

--Exile Private Legion (High Morale) (Slightly Fatigued).

--British Coastal Militia (High Morale) (Long March).

--Celtic Gaulish Warriors (High Morale) (Eager for Battle) (May Charge Without Orders).

Most of the reinforcements that had arrived were somewhat fatigued.

But there were exceptions: the traditional Gaulish warriors, who possessed better physical qualities and greater military discipline. Not only were they not tired, they looked eager for battle, and their legion marker bore the highly conspicuous note: "May Charge Without Orders."

Fortunately, their numbers were not great. Otherwise, they might really have charged straight in already.

Kevito led this six-hundred-man legion around the right flank of the battlefield, then concealed them in the nearby woods, seemingly waiting for the right moment to attack.

This was a fresh force!

If they could cut off the enemy's retreat at a critical moment and create a localized pincer attack from front and rear, they could very well crush the enemy head-on.

On a real battlefield—

Without Duncan's God's Eye View, there was no way to know exactly how many enemies there were. If a fierce assault caused chaos, the enemy would only think they had fallen into an encirclement.

"Gather the cavalry!"

Duncan gave the order decisively, concentrating those units without the markers "Shaken Morale," "Exhausted," or "Out of Breath." This main force gathered near the tottering gate, commanded by Gaulish Vow Warrior Cú Chulainn, resisting Horsa's Saxon Personal Guard head-on.

"Clegane!"

"Once the cavalry leaves the city, immediately circle around to the woods in the southwest and have Kevito prepare to attack."

"The moment the cavalry moves, they join the battle at once!"

Duncan personally led more than thirty elite cavalrymen, opened another gate in a different direction, and galloped out onto the battlefield's flank, taking a detour straight toward the enemy's Chieftain Guard.

This assault had to be a major victory!

He could not squander all his strength here.

Once the battlefield descended into chaotic melee, he would lead this elite cavalry force to behead the enemy commander and seize his banner—taking Horsa's head from amid ten thousand troops!

With Noden's Bow in hand—

Right now, he was Huang Zhong incarnate. Give him the slightest opportunity, and he could shoot Horsa down in battle!