A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1173 The Ability to Overwhelm - Part 6
1173: The Ability to Overwhelm – Part 6
1173: The Ability to Overwhelm – Part 6
A third man fell at the end of his sword, and then he did just as the other Captains had done before him – he bellowed the same order as them, with as much passion as they had, and as much want.
“FORRRRRWARDDD!” He cried.
But when he did it, his men followed.
They threw down their spears, they took up their swords, and they waded forwards, crashing into the enemies with all the force of a unit of cavalry.
Those Verna men that weren’t outright killed were thrown off the wall, down the ladder, to land on the rest.
Their indomitable momentum was brought to a sudden halt.
And just like that, the word began to spread down the line.
“USE YOUR SWORDS!
CUT OFF THEIR LEGS!” Came another Commander’s shout, as he saw what was happening on the walkway to his left.
He waded forward to demonstrate.
He saw the same weakness of speed in those injured Verna men as the others had, and he made it apparent.
Before long, the entire length of the wall had taken up their swords, and the Verna footholds were abolished entirely.
They were thrown from where they stood, and their ladders were thrown with them, and General Rainwater did not even need to utter a single order.
He gave only the smallest of smiles, in response to a comment from one of his officers, and he allowed the battle to proceed along the course that it had set.
Oliver found himself watching the Captain that had started it all.
He seemed a man just like the rest of them.
There was nothing much different about him, apart from his will to go forward.
It had only needed that single spark, and the Verna attack was defeated.
That spark had transformed into a blaze.
It was something so unlike the Battle board, enough to push Oliver towards serious pondering.
The pushing and pulling and then Zilan’s attack through Command – it had struck him with the same movements of strategy that he was used to.
There was tension, and then there were tactics.
But the true battlefield was different.
He recalled Karstly saying as much, more than once.
The young General was fond of what he called sparks.
He put his faith in men, as he’d put it in Oliver more than once, allowing those men to extend a will beyond his own, and to inflict a presence on the battlefield that would have been impossible for him standing by himself.
Oliver knew the same to be true for him, from experience – Blackthorn had forced that on to him, mere half-an-hour before.
She’d reminded him of what it was to rely on comrades.
And before her, Lombard had assisted on more than a few occasions.
It was something that he had known before, the use of his men… But to know, and to really know, they were as alike as they were different.
It was the subtlest of changes that brought the most immense degrees of power.
From training the sword, Oliver knew that too.
Even in coming to such a conclusion, he knew it would never stick. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
He knew it wasn’t a true solution, because there never would be one.
There would only be ideas, one better than the last.
Progress was a place of continual evolution – it was not a destination.
From Rainheart’s approach, and from General Zilan’s approach, and from the interference of that young Captain, Oliver thought he might have aligned himself with a manner of battling that could allow him to stand on the same stage as General Rainheart and Zilan.
“Bold,” Ingolsol cackled delightedly.
Oliver flushed in embarrassment, already realizing that he had gone a step too far in that conclusion.
Standing on the same stage as men with such a presence?
That seemed impossible.
But at the very least, he thought he could come up with enough pressure now to make the enemy look his way.
That was not because he himself was simply superior.
It was because his men were.
“Lombard, Blackthorn, Verdant, Jorah, Firyr, Yorick,” Oliver said, listing the names of the Commanders and Captains that he knew best how to work with.
The men that belonged to him saluted, the crispness of the gesture ringing out a tapping of steel on steel, as the small finger plates of a gauntlet hit the edges of helmets.
“””Captain!”””
“You’ve come to a conclusion, Captain?” Lombard asked, saluting just as the others had.
It seemed a pointed display – a recognition of the temporary authority that General Karstly had imbued Oliver with.
“A conclusion?
Indeed, I suppose you could call it that,” Oliver said.
“I am no match for this man.
General Zilan demonstrated that in a single move.
The more I try and unsettle him, the more he would point out the difference between us, and the more men that we would lose.
“That much seems obvious,” Colonel Yoran said with a sniff.
“If that be the case – then I had simply need to cease trying,” Oliver said.
“Before our position grows too desperate.”
Lombard frowned, Blackthorn pulled a face that looked as if she wanted to protest, and Verdant continued to quietly listen.
“Thus, we shall attack independently,” Oliver said.
“A single mind would not be enough to unsettle Zilan, but all of us together?
I can see it working.
It might very well be a copy of what Karstly and Blackwell themselves came up with, but we shall go even further.
Each Commander under my employ I have no doubt can take care of themselves.
The same is true for you, Captain Lombard.
Rightly, you ought to be leading me.
You will not encounter any degree of trouble in your independent attacks.”
“…” They took in his words quietly.
Oliver had expected a degree of protest, from somewhere, or from someone, but there looked to be no signs of it.
That was until Colonel Yoran found his rage, and he spoke up, even louder than he had before.
