Fire!

The next day, early morning.

Knight Pell and his Survey Corps had already set out quietly; their mission today was no easy task. Nearly all the able-bodied warriors from the dozen or so nearby Mountain Wildling tribes had mobilized, leaving behind mostly the elderly and the weak.

The members of the Survey Corps were the finest hunters in House Crabb, so breaching these tribes left with only the infirm was naturally an easy feat.

The problem was that these dozen tribes could not possibly be gathered in one place; if they were, they would be a single tribe rather than a dozen.

These dozen tribes were scattered across various locations, each possessing its own territory of varying size.

Three of these tribes were the largest, each boasting a population of several hundred people.

The combat mission Gryn had issued to the Survey Corps targeted these three major tribes, with a requirement to take down at least two of them today.

Therefore, the key to today's success lay in the marching speed of the Survey Corps.

The experienced Knight Pell naturally understood the crux of the day. The terrain was rugged and unsuitable for horses, so to avoid hindering the march, he had foregone the bright silver plate armor he never left home without during wartime, opting instead to wear a simplified version of the leather armor invented by Gryn over his chainmail.

Knight Pell felt that what Lord Gryn said made perfect sense: as long as one ensured they were always facing the enemy, there was no need to protect one's back.

Knight Pell felt that this was how he had always conducted himself on the battlefield.

Although Gryn had not said it explicitly, Knight Pell felt that Gryn was actually indirectly praising his valor—the Lord truly understood him!

Knight Pell was ambitious. This was the first battle since his Lord had inherited House Crabb; he had to fight not only well but brilliantly, to solidify his status as the most loyal and courageous knight of Whispers.

As long as the command was sound and the timing well-arranged, all three major tribes, left with only the elderly and weak, could be dealt with today.

Once the three major tribes were resolved, the remaining small tribes would be terrified and easily handled, perhaps even too afraid to resist.

The sky was just beginning to brighten.

Gryn, dressed in black leather armor embroidered with Marsh Marigolds, stood on high ground, silently watching the soldiers as they assembled.

The entire square was boisterous, filled with a cacophony of sounds.

Gryn soon noticed that the newly established Thorn Legion of Amparo was actually the fastest to assemble.

With the assembly complete, Amparo was busy inspecting their equipment.

Gryn understood that nothing could be achieved overnight, so he had simply organized a few points regarding training and pre-battle precautions that he felt were suitable for the current situation and passed them on to Amparo.

Amparo executed every single point meticulously.

This was also a talent, or rather, the talent Gryn most hoped his commanders possessed at this moment.

Gryn liked Amparo's personality very much and intended to rely on her more in the future.

Lena, with her silver hair tied into a high ponytail, was quite eye-catching in the crowd.

After Lena finished helping Amparo inspect the Thorn Legion's equipment, she glanced at Gryn in the distance, exchanged a few words with Amparo, and then trotted toward Gryn's direction.

Gryn noticed Lena trotting toward him.

As she ran, Lena even skipped a few times; her lively personality made Gryn smile.

Gryn waved his hand to signal his guards to disperse.

Lena stopped a few paces away from Gryn, bowed, and saluted: "Pardon the intrusion, greetings, my Lord."

Lena had just learned this etiquette from Amparo.

Facing the Lord and greeting him for the first time, Lena was very excited, feeling that she had finally made her mark.

Lena's voice was crisp and melodious.

"You are Lena, right? The deputy to Commander Amparo of the Thorn Legion."

"Oh my, I haven't even introduced myself, and you already know my name? My Lord, you really do know everything just like the rumors say!... Also, the leather gloves you prepared for us are incredibly useful. I've tried them; my fingers feel much better after rapid-firing. The sisters are very confident about completing the 40-arrow rapid-fire challenge. We guarantee we will finish it!"

There was plenty of soft leather in the storehouse, and Gryn understood that continuous shooting was very hard on an archer's fingers. After finishing the "new leather armor," he had immediately arranged for soft leather gloves for the archers.

Lena talked incessantly, skipping with excitement at the high points of her story.

The hour was still early, and Gryn was very patient with the soldiers who were about to follow him into battle. A gentle smile remained on his face, and he did not interrupt, waiting for Lena to finish.

"Well, time was short. The gloves might be too big or too small for some, but in the future, you will all have gloves that fit perfectly."

"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter! Look!"

As she spoke, Lena extended her right hand, showing the glove that fit her palm perfectly: "I modified it last night. It was very simple, and the sisters whose gloves didn't fit have all followed my lead and modified theirs too!"

"Well done. Go back now and assist Amparo well. Remember, unity is strength."

"Yes! My Lord! Unity is strength!"

The location for the battle against the Mountain Wildlings was a relatively flat area about two miles east of Whispers.

When the sky was fully bright, Gryn led his troops to the designated battlefield.

Gryn spotted the mountain clansmen gathering a few hundred meters away, a vast, dark mass.

Ser Mason dismounted and shouted, "Armor up!!"

Mason walked through the moving crowd with a gruff voice, kicking out every now and then.

"Shield-bearers, assemble! Assemble!!"

"Lazy bastards, get into formation, quickly, move!"

"What are you panicking for! Go over there, get moving!"

"If you don't want your woman rolling in someone else's bed tonight, check your gear again!"

"Damn it, shoulder to shoulder! Shoulder to shoulder!!"

Gryn sat on his horse, flanked by the already assembled Thorn Legion.

Gryn once again marveled at this style of combat in Crackclaw Point, which felt more like a pre-arranged brawl.

It was vastly different from the warfare he remembered from the World of Ice and Fire in his past life.

If his own army were strictly disciplined and sufficiently trained, Gryn would have long since ordered them to form ranks and push across while the enemy was in disarray.

Just as Gryn's side finished forming their ranks, the savages opposite suddenly began emitting all sorts of strange roars.

The sounds grew more synchronized and louder by the second.

To Gryn, the savages, who appeared to have no formation at all, were actually swarming forward toward his phalanx, step by step.

"Range-finding arrows!"

"Yes! Range-finding arrows!"

The savages approached the conspicuous range-finding arrows.

"Fire!!!!"