Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 681: The Rout 1
Chapter 681: The Rout 1
TL: Rui88
In the wide valley, the three army formations of the Kingdom of Ordo advanced step by step, their momentum magnificent.
The orc army’s light cavalry continued the same strategy as before.
Engage, disengage, engage again, disengage again…
With their superb horsemanship, they quickly adapted to the speed of the Ordo army’s advance.
The orcs adopted a divide-and-conquer strategy against the three formations, doing their utmost to lure them further and further apart from one another.
The Ordo army on the battlefield was a coalition force of various territories hastily assembled in a short time, and their coordination was far from close.
The orcs’ strategy quickly took effect, and the distance between the three formations grew ever wider.
It was not that Catherine and the other generals failed to see the orcs’ intentions. On the surface, it appeared as if the Ordo army was forcing the orc cavalry to retreat, but in reality, the orc army was leading them by the nose.
The waving of the command flags never ceased in an effort to keep their own units from becoming too scattered, but the effect was quite limited.
Montret, who commanded the infantry of the central army, grew secretly anxious.
But unlike Catherine and the others, he was not anxious because he was being led by the nose by the orcs.
Montret still believed that the phalanx of spearmen under his command could slaughter those barbarians who lacked the protection of heavy armor.
He was worried that the allied forces circling around to the orcs’ rear would soon attack—perhaps they were already on their way.
At that time, the Ordo army would be able to attack the orc army from both the front and the rear.
But he wanted to seize more credit in this battle; the troops he commanded ought to be the main force in annihilating the orcs.
After a long internal struggle, he issued an order: “Increase the speed of our advance, make contact with the enemy as soon as possible, and kill them!”
The infantry formation he commanded was instantly filled with morale, letting out a sky-shaking cheer.
From officers to soldiers, they all began to run forward, their fighting spirit soaring as they chased the enemy before them.
Seeing their allies advancing so eagerly, the knights on the left wing did not want to be outdone. They spurred their horses to engage the approaching orc cavalry.
Thus, apart from the royal army on the right wing, the other two formations, which were cobbled together from local forces, were also beginning to fall apart.
As they continued to advance, they had long been unable to maintain the orderly, rank-by-rank state they had started in, and were now a chaotic mob, like a crowd at a market fair.
Catherine frowned, but she was helpless.
The troops of these local lords usually stayed in their own territories. They only gathered in small groups for arranged hunts to practice their coordination with one another.
Moreover, this was a training opportunity that only knights and their squires had. As for the peasant soldiers who were temporarily conscripted, getting them to line up neatly was already difficult enough; expecting them to maintain formation while advancing was simply a fantasy.
Catherine could only order her own subordinate troops to raise their guard, so that they could immediately provide assistance if anything unexpected happened.
The orc commander, General Kalem, watched his army’s masterpiece with satisfaction.
“Begin the hunt!”
The command flag beside him was waved forcefully, conveying the general’s will.
The orc light cavalry, which had been keeping a careful distance from the Ordo infantry phalanx, suddenly began a swift retreat.
“The orcs are avoiding our spearhead! They have lost, we have won!”
Seeing the enemy’s retreat, everyone was thrilled.
The disorderly manner of the orcs’ retreat brought to mind words like “rout.”
The soldiers held their long spears and strode forward, desperately chasing after the enemy.
“The orcs are retreating?”
Catherine also felt a sense of doubt.
A feigned retreat was a maneuver that truly tested an army’s overall quality; a single misstep could turn it into a genuine rout.
Most battlefield commanders did not dare to use this tactic lightly.
“Continue to cover the infantry’s advance!”
Catherine gave the command.
“Your Highness, an army is attacking from the right!”
A cry of alarm drew Catherine’s attention elsewhere.
The princess quickly raised her telescope and looked to the right.
The view in the frame was filled with billowing dust. A cavalry unit in a tight formation was galloping towards them.
This was no harassing force; this was clearly an army coming for a decisive battle—a conclusion easily drawn from their posture.
“To arms!” Catherine commanded loudly.
There was no time to worry about covering the infantry. The Royal Knights immediately adjusted their formation, preparing to meet this menacing orc cavalry.
“Send a message to Aranbru and Montret, tell them to halt their advance!” Catherine did not forget to notify the other two formations.
The orc cavalry attacking from the flank was like an iron hammer, swung viciously by an invisible hand.
The well-trained Royal Knights were fearless, and they quickly formed a rectangular phalanx.
Catherine nodded to the bugler beside her, and a clear bugle call immediately rang out.
Under the command of the bugle call, the knights urged their mounts on, and the horses beneath them began to run at a trot.
The bugle’s rhythm gradually quickened, and the warhorses quickened their pace accordingly, from a trot to a canter, and were now about to meet the orc cavalry.
Catherine raised her hand, and the rhythm of the bugle suddenly intensified. The knights, still maintaining their formation, abruptly accelerated, their warhorses breaking into a full gallop, their hooves seeming to leave the ground.
This lasted for only a few breaths before the two cavalry forces collided violently.
A series of gut-wrenching, violent crashes echoed from the point where the two armies met.
The splintering of lance shafts, the shattering of armor, the惨叫of the wounded… countless such things happened in an instant.
“Hah!”
An orc, clearly much stronger than his companions, threw his head back to the sky and let out a heaven-shaking roar, his one remaining eye glowing with a cruel green light.
In his left hand, he held a flail and a steel saber. He charged into the formation, slaughtering at will. Anyone who encountered this fellow either died or was wounded.
The orc soldiers following him were as if injected with chicken blood, each one striving to be the first into the fray.
“Stop them!”
Klein shouted, then raised his lance and charged towards that fearsome orc.
“Die!”
The orc slashed at Klein’s lance with his saber. The force of the impact transmitted through the weapon sent a sharp pain through him.
“Clang!”
His lance blocked, Klein simply abandoned it, drew the longsword from his waist, and continued to fight.
The two cavalry forces that had crashed together fought fiercely, inflicting enormous casualties on each other.
At this point, the three parts of the Ordo army had, on the whole, formed the three points of an equilateral triangle, with the infantry in the middle at the triangle’s apex. The distance between each of the three sections was also very great.
“Forward! Forward!”
Montret, who was commanding the army’s advance, was so excited that he failed to notice that the Royal Knights covering his right flank were already locked in a bitter struggle.
Rumble!
The ground began to tremble slightly, as if a giant beast was running ahead.
.
!
Chapter 681: The Rout 1
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