On the morning of November 3, Prince Durosong's army had already assembled. It streamed out of the small city in a long, imposing column.
The Knight Order, made up of 50 knights, set out first. Behind them came an infantry square of 600 musketeers, spearmen, drummers, and officers, followed by five newly made cannons pulled by Pack Horses.
After advancing about 500 meters, they reached the designated artillery position: an earthen mound about 10 meters high.
More than a dozen cannons had already been mounted on the mound. They were the fruits of Prince Durosong's efforts over nearly two months. After Landen delivered the iron barrels yesterday, his men had hurriedly made five more.
The prince and his cavalry climbed the mound, while the infantry formed three hollow squares to its west. Each square had two outer ranks of spearmen and one inner rank of musketeers.
All the soldiers were Mana-Less, while Mana-Wielders served as officers and held the center of each square. The three squares were arranged in a triangular formation, with a huge gap facing west.
Watching his army, after a month of last-minute drilling, finally take on a semblance of a force capable of fighting, the Sixth Prince smiled with satisfaction.
By fully mobilizing the Mana-Less, who made up nearly nine-tenths of the population, he had found a relatively sufficient supply of manpower. Only then had Durosong found the confidence to firmly refuse Landen.
"Your Highness, are you really sure this force, made up of serfs and hunters... can hold off even the Bristle-Wolf Knights?" The prince's Chief Knight leaned close and asked quietly.
Durosong smiled. "What, you don't have faith in them?"
The Chief Knight said anxiously, "Your Highness, I once watched that Knight Order from White Wolf City drill. I'm afraid they're not to be