And the Herders' equipment was still the same old problem—crudely made, shoddy, and not durable.
The rafts weren't sunk, the bridge piles weren't damaged, but the catapult itself fell apart...
The Herders operating the catapult dispersed awkwardly, and thus ended another day of battle between the two sides.
Winters watched the battle from the riverbank, observing everything closely.
Watching battles is considered one of the traditional entertainments of the military; many officers who were not on duty came to the riverbank to watch the fighting.
During the exchange among the officers, most agreed on this view: the closer one gets to the opposite bank, the greater the resistance encountered; if the Herders could field one catapult today, they might bring out five or ten tomorrow; the final beachhead breakthrough was unlikely to be easy.
All present were seniors and predecessors from the Paratu region, so Winters didn't want to interrupt and stayed in the back, listening attentively—he was actually quite shy.
On the way back to the bridge forest encampment, Colonel Robert casually asked, "Winters, do you have any other thoughts?"
In front of familiar superiors, Winters was less reserved.
He stroked Stronghide's mane, replying, "I think everyone is overestimating the Herders across the bridge. If the bridge extends another fifty meters, I'm afraid the Herders on the opposite bank would turn tail and run."
"How so?" Colonel Robert asked, interested.
The other accompanying officers perked up their ears too, as they all knew the younger colleague beside them had clashed with the Herders across the river.
Winters, feeling embarrassed, nodded and explained, "The Herders on the other side are actually a motley army put together from many small tribes. Their fighting power is far inferior to that of direct descendants from large tribes like the Red River Tribe, the Terdon Tribe, and the Suz Tribe; they easily fall apart."
His quick-thinking colleagues already grasped what Winters meant, and Colonel Robert slapped his thigh lightly.
"They've made a haul in Paratu and got their fill. The fact that the White Lion managed to keep them on the opposite riverbank surprised me. This shows that the White Lion has great prestige in their eyes, but well..." said Winters as he braided a little plait for Stronghide, chuckling, "that's about it."
When Winters went to Bianli, Alaric [Tempest Hawk] nearly pushed him to the brink.
But if Jeska's squad were defending The Styx main camp now, Winters was confident he could smash Alaric's Centurion team to the point of them crying for their fathers and mothers.
Even the slowest of his colleagues reacted at this point:
The troops on the west bank were all eager to go home;
Meanwhile, the Herders on the opposite bank had already looted enough, and their will to fight was much less than before they went to Paratu.
As long as the bridge could be extended to the opposite bank, the remaining tasks shouldn't be too difficult.
Back at the bridge forest camp, Winters followed his routine of having dinner, inspecting the camp, and writing letters—he actually treated letter writing as keeping a diary.
Every day he used the Disintegration Spell to blow up trees, which also saved the spellcasters from training.
After doing all this, he crawled under his down comforter.
"The down comforter is good in every way," Winters thought regretfully, "but it's still not as comfortable as my old blanket."
Horses' hooves thundered like rolling thunder. Thɪs chapter is updated by novel✶fire.net
And there were urgent bells ringing.
Winters rolled out of his campaign bed and reached for his sword.
"Is this a dream?" he mumbled, slowly turning his head to ascertain the direction of the hoofbeats.
Not a dream! Real hoofbeats!
Winters cursed and rushed out of his tent, bellowing, "We're under attack!"
The power of that roar was close to a Sonic Blast Spell, making his own head spin.
The soldiers scrambled out of their tents and started arming themselves.
Xial and Heinrich rushed over to help Winters don his armor.
"[Inaudible profanity]!" Winters fumed, "Can't I get a decent night's sleep?!"
"This is absurd! Absurd!" Xial shouted in panic, "Your armor's on backward!"
Winters had been angry but suddenly burst into laughter so hard it hurt his stomach: "I wondered why it felt like I was being choked..."
The usually silent Heinrich suddenly spoke up, "Sir, the hoofbeats seem to be coming from the direction of our main camp."
Winters was alarmed, his hairs standing on end: "That's right... they're coming from the camp..."
Quickly donning his armor, Winters strode briskly to his own district.
Xial went to fetch the horse, while Heinrich unfurled the military banner and followed closely behind the Centurion.
The hoofbeats circled the camp.
The messenger Cavalry wearing green plumes burst into the bridge forest camp, galloping wildly down the main road and yelling, "General Alpad's orders—anyone who can ride, follow! General Alpad..."
Having heard the messenger, Winters finally breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment before, he had feared that the main camp had been breached.
Braziers were lit one after another, and the Shuangqiao camp was awakening.
Once the ranks were formed, Winters led his troops to the parade ground.
When Montaigne's squad entered the parade ground, few people were there, which made Winters feel slightly proud.
Seeing the familiar Lieutenant Varga, Winters hurried over to ask, "Sergeant, what's going on?"
"I don't know either," Lieutenant Varga responded, saluting with a wry smile.
A rider charged into the parade ground—it was Colonel Robert.
"All Centurions present!" Colonel Robert commanded, "Follow me!"
With that, the Colonel sped off.
Winters and Varga exchanged looks, then spurred their horses to follow.
Colonel Robert said nothing, leading a few men out of the bridge forest camp.
In the night, Winters couldn't discern the direction, but he faintly felt they were heading toward the riverbank.
Worried about Stronghide stumbling, Winters slowed down a bit, so he was at the back of the group.
Before they reached the riverbank, under the silver moonlight and through the sparse treeline, he could see something churning in the water.
"Fire boats! No, not boats! What in the world is that!"