"The northern military-settler villages... the village communities that labored collectively..."
The sun slanted west, painting the sky with red clouds. Woodpecker E-Zhuo led the tribe's archer battalion more than fifty li in a single day, and he truly felt worn out. The Kingdom officers around him were much the same. The lightly equipped tribal archers, however, though tired and hungry, still voiced no complaints. They were like obedient, enduring worker ants, wearing only a suit of Paper Armor, their legs wrapped in gaiters, looking as if they could still march through another night.
"It'll be dark soon! Make for the nearby village, eat a full meal, and get some proper rest!..."
The Kingdom officer of the battalion discussed matters for a long while with the military-farming leader of the nearest village before the other man finally agreed, his face stiff. But when the Tlaxcalan Bow battalion arrived at the village, they saw an enthusiastic "welcome" waiting for them.
At the entrance to the village, more than four hundred able-bodied men from the village had all been mobilized. Their faces were full of vigilance, their simple expressions carrying a fierce edge. Each held a two-meter spear, most tipped with sharp Obsidian, and there were even several dozen gleaming Copper Spears. The Militia in the front row carried plain shields, standing shoulder to shoulder. Judging from the formation they had drawn up, it was actually faintly neater than Woodpecker E-Zhuo's archer battalion!
"Main God above! Have this mob of village Militia from River Mouth County trained in spear formations too?"
Woodpecker E-Zhuo watched in surprise for a while before he realized that the truly orderly ones were actually only the outermost ring—that is, the hundred-plus trained Militia who had participated in the Kingdom's campaigns. Further inside were "old men" in their thirties