A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1175 The Ability to Overwhelm - Part 8
1175: The Ability to Overwhelm – Part 8
1175: The Ability to Overwhelm – Part 8
“I’d hope for an even spread of it,” Oliver said.
“One victory won’t be enough to upset Zilan – though at least the man is finally looking at us.”
Indeed, even Zilan had been unable to keep up his façade of calm when he found himself so suddenly surrounded.
Though there were only a few of them in number, when compared to the mass of Zilan’s own army, with their positioning in so many different directions, the psychological edge that they inflicted on their opponents was not to be underestimated.
The men shifted nervously, staring outwards.
Even the stationary chariot men looked to be feeling the tension.
They were the very manifestation of the strength of the Verna army – if the effect of their strategy was beginning to wear on even them, then they were doing something right.
“Good,” Oliver thought, clenching his fist.
Another man might have felt embarrassed, having to rely so heavily on his own men to carry out his strategy for him.
In the past, Oliver might have felt the same.
But he’d seen the way Karstly used it as a tool, and used Oliver as a tool in the process.
With such an example, he had no more thoughts to waste on such foolishness.
Blackthorn moved first, her horse lurching forward, and her black hair dancing out behind her.
Under her, Jorah’s infantry came.
The way their forces had been split, they had aimed to have it nearly half cavalry, and half infantrymen where they could.
Of course, that was not always possible, but they made the efforts to see it done where they could regardless.
She was positioned near the siege weapons, in the east.
Her target was plain to see.
She wanted to halt their operations.
It was an attack that would be felt the entire battlefield over.
Even General Rainheart would begin to feel its effects, and he would no doubt praise her for it.
‘But to go first…’ Oliver muttered to himself.
He wondered whether she’d really given it due thought, or whether she was caught up in the strain of recklessness that he had inflicted on her.
Her earlier performance didn’t exactly instill much confidence in that regard.
‘She has Jorah under her, though… He will not allow her to go too far astray.’
The young Captain shifted himself in his saddle, eyeing the charge, and waiting for his own opportunity.
The Blackthorn men under their Lady seemed especially eager.
They were bellowing a battle cry loud enough for three times the men, and Jorah’s infantry were doing all they could to match them.
Heavy shield wielders were brought to the front in an attempt to stem the tide of that charge, but the Patrick Forces, and now the Blackthorn group, had a particular nail that could be driven deep into such a wall.
To the front, Kaya was sent, and he tore apart that formation even faster than he had in the past.
Apparently, he was getting the hang of it – as were his supporting members in Karesh.
Blackthorn was through in a matter of moments, and blood was being spilt, and steel ringmail was being sliced in the process.
Oliver put his foot to Walter’s sides, about to go next.
He was beginning to sense a tension ripe for the picking.
With an attack already stirring up attention on another end of the Verna formation, how could he have let the opportunity go to waste?
However, before he could take even a single step forward, there was a mighty cry, and Lombard’s order was led ahead of the rest.
He had his sword raised in the air, and was not saying a single word, but the men under him made it clear what an honour it must have been to serve under him.
They were positioned to the middle of the Verna army, on the east side, just as Oliver was – though Oliver was much closer to the encampments than Lombard was.
‘Damn it,’ Oliver cursed to himself.
He had to yield the attack to Lombard.
No matter how he looked at it, Lombard was better placed to capitalize on Blackthorn’s chaos, being nearer her as he was, and almost diagonally opposite her.
His target was another row of heavy shieldwielders, with spearmen behind them.
It looked the driest part of the formation.
There was no real target beyond it, just men.
It was the very sort of place that only Lombard could have hoped to go towards with any degree of enthusiasm.
He needed not goals, it seemed, for he had his orders.
With his single arm, he led by the front, and he put a weighty dent in their shield line.
It wasn’t nearly as efficient a blow as Kaya was able to deal, but with the strength of a man of the Third Boundary, it was effective in its own right, for there were few that could stand in the way of a Boundary Breaker.
His sword spilt blood, mirroring the work that Blackthorn was doing on the other side.
His men came in next, hungrily doing the same.
Slaying man after man with a ruthlessness.
They pushed themselves deeper, until they came to the line of spearmen, and then too the aged Captain engaged, calmly wading his way into those deeper waters.
The chariot wheels began to turn, humming a rhythm.
They had two options in regards to punishment.
It was either Blackthorn, or Lombard, but Oliver wasn’t keen on letting them go too soon.
The chariots attempted to flash by him, as if he didn’t exist.
He hadn’t seen Zilan give an order, so he supposed that this must have been their own sort of judgement.
“TO THE FLANK!” He shouted, raising up his sword to give the order.
“FLANK IT IS, CAPTAIN!” Firyr said.
Though he and his men were on foot, they demonstrated no degree less of enthusiasm, as if believing that they could truly catch up to the back of those chariots.
Even as Oliver chased, he knew it was a hopeless affair.
The cavalrymen that he had positioned at the front might have been capable of continuing the chase, but they would be abandoning their infantry in the process.
Besides, travelling in a straight line as they were, those chariots were at their strongest.
Even an attack from the flank on them, with the spinning blades connected to their hubs, wouldn’t exactly be an effective affair.
