Chapter 795: Chapter 70 Time_3 Chapter 795: Chapter 70 Time_3 The sound of hooves thundered, and a succession of warhorses splashing through water came from behind, making the Terdun people by the fence believe some noble was eager for glory.
A few members of the Terdun Cavalry cursed in fury and desperation, but before the words had fully escaped their mouths, they turned into shrieks of alarm.
For they saw a chestnut warhorse floating on the surface of the water like Pegasus, charging toward them with irresistible force. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ noveⅼfire.net
More and more riders emerged in quick succession from the bushes on the riverbank, their warhorses seemingly unable to sink into the water, storming toward the Terdun people from the side and rear.
Those besieging the fence tasted once more the classic Anvil Hammer Tactic.
“Ура!” Anglu roared, his blade rose and fell, slicing off half a head—the victim never even realizing what happened.
Equipped with felt breastplates, the red-maned horses charged through the Terdun lines, not slowing in the slightest.
The Terdun people scattered in terror, avoiding the red manes only to be met by the yellow and white ones, and other Iron Peak County riders, fiercely spurring their warhorses to charge.
Terdunden fell, sliced, smashed, trampled; their will to fight evaporated.
They were a horse-taming clan, ill-prepared for infantry battle, let alone experiencing a full-force side charge.
The Terdun people scattered, fleeing in every direction as Anglu swung his saber, mercilessly driving them into deeper water.
The water grew deeper and swifter; the fleeing Terdun people realized too late that the icy river had risen above their knees.
Barely able to stand, they found even more fierce cavalry herding more Terdun people into the deep water.
Eventually, one by one, Terdun men—exhausted—lost their balance and were swept away by the river, vanishing after a few bobs.
With fewer and fewer Terdun men left on the riverbed, Anglu ordered decisively, “No captives! Kill them all!”
Just as Anglu tightened his knees, ready for one last charge, a hail of hoofbeats approached from the south bank.
The Terdun commanders had dispatched another troop of cavalry aimed straight at Anglu’s backend.
“Retreat!” Anglu pulled the reins, leading his men back along the original route to the north bank.
The pursuing Terdun Cavalry, attempting to follow Anglu onto the north bank, repeatedly slipped and fell into the water.
Not until the following morning, when the Iron Peak County militia began removing submerged stakes and dismantling the bridge, would the Terdun people fully understand what had happened.
The incursion of the armored Terdun warriors called “Bear” finally faded; Anglu’s charge swept away the remaining Terdun forces.
No Terdun person crossed the gap in the fence again, except for “Bear,” who, panting heavily, leaned against a stake barely supporting himself.
A militiaman cautiously approached this bear-like brute, who did not react… he simply had no strength left.
Suddenly, all the militia grew bold, swinging muskets, flails, and clubs from every direction at “Bear.”
“Bear” was struck down by a rain of blows, the militiamen pummeling the bear-like brute frantically as if to vent some long-suppressed emotion.
Many shouted as they swung, having fought in silence earlier, teeth tightly clenched, uttering not a sound.
“Enough!” Bard commanded coldly.
The militia halted one after another, some standing dumbfounded, others crying.
Perhaps due to sturdy armor, tenacious vitality, or a last resurgence of energy, “Bear” was not yet dead; a sigh-like groan escaped his throat.
“He too was a brave man.” Bard removed his cap, “Give him a quick end, and do not cut off his ears or head.”
“I’ll do it.” Ish, who had already had the arrow removed from his leg, limped to the dying Terdun man’s side.
He drew his dagger, made a bow, removed “Bear’s” neck protection, and slit “Bear’s” throat.
The sound of throat-cutting was unpleasant, blood gushing out, some militiamen unable to help vomiting.
“You’ll get used to it,” Ish remarked, wiping his dagger.
Meanwhile, Bard received a letter, delivered by a green-crested messenger riding at full speed.
“Prepare for evacuation,” Bard handed the letter to Anglu, who had returned to camp, “Captain Montaigne is coming.”
Just under a kilometer to the northeast of the forded field,
Winters arrived at the “battlefield” with the main force.
But the “battlefield” he chose was serene, and most of his “troops” were armed not with weapons, but with shovels, picks, and baskets.
“This is it.” Winters reined in his warhorse, looked back at the hundreds of faces behind him, “Begin.”