Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 785 - 66 Competition for _3

Chapter 785: Chapter 66: Competition for _3 Chapter 785: Chapter 66: Competition for _3 The Bald Dog didn’t say it outright, but Stone Arrow was clear that the Bald Dog would share nothing with him, leading to the second reason—the Bald Dog was crazed with hunger, whereas Stone Arrow had his fill.

After an indeterminate wait, Stone Arrow heard the sound of horns coming from ahead.

Hundreds of Terdun light cavalry charged out of the forest and headed straight for the dense camp, with the Bald Dog at the forefront.

Another horn sounded from a different direction, and the Green Horse also led his men toward the dense camp.

Stone Arrow ordered the horns blown, stepped into the stirrups, and made his unhurried way toward the dense camp.

…

Flashes of swords and shadows of daggers, human cries and horse whinnies.

Two groups were fighting to the death in a rudimentary camp: one was small, the other large.

...

The smaller group wielded long spears, bows and arrows, and scimitars, drawing bows, riding fast, and charging; the larger group was armed with Stinger Hammers, javelins, and even farm tools like flails and scythes, fighting in a dense formation.

Without a doubt, the former were the people of Terdun, and the latter the militia from Iron Peak County.

In this battle of hundreds against dozens, Major Ronald’s commanded militia had firmly suppressed the Terdun people.

The militia pushed wheels and lifted gates, advancing in a clumsy but unstoppable manner toward the Terdun camp—indeed, this battle was not taking place in the dense camp in the valley but in the Bald Dog’s own camp.

In the past, the people of Terdun would have long since fled at breakneck speed.

But now that was impossible, as their spoils of war were stored within the camp.

The Terdun people were like merchants pushing a cart uphill, bitten in the rear by a wolf that had long been lurking.

If he let go to fight the wolf, he would lose the cart; but if he continued to push, he would lose his rear.

Major Ronald’s brows were tightly knit as he watched the small detachment of Terdun armored cavalry on the hillside who had not yet joined the fight—now, he should be more rightfully called Major Ronald.

Captain Apel had come up with a peculiar and clumsy tactic, which he called “wheel warfare.”

In simple terms, it involved stringing a wheel with a thick, long spear.

While advancing, the wheel could be rolled along. As soon as the enemy cavalry arrived, the wheel was dropped.

The wheel, the long spear, and the ground created a triangular structure, effectively making a movable obstacle for horses.

If there was a peculiar scene on the battlefield:

The militiamen, sweating profusely and gasping, “advanced” by pushing the cart’s wheels forward;

The Terdun light cavalry, despite their strong bows and fast horses, could only shoot arrows from outside.

“What are you waiting for?” Major Ronald thought.

“Now is the moment!” Hong Lingyu of Terdun drew his scimitar, stabbed his horse in the ribs, and led the charge.

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Lieutenant Adam (formerly), wearing only a single vambrace, roared as he swung around the Stinger Hammer, meeting Hong Lingyu’s scimitar head-on.

The Stinger Hammer was essentially a club with an iron tip; for strength, very thick wood was used.

Hong Lingyu was on horseback, Adam on foot. The former had the height advantage and theoretically held all the benefits.

However, at the moment of impact between sword and hammer, Hong Lingyu felt an unstoppable force traveling back through the weapon.

His palm went numb, the base of his thumb was torn apart, and even his wrist was twisted.

What surprised Hong Lingyu even more was that his scimitar had sunk deep into the handle of the opponent’s bizarre weapon, stuck fast.

The scene surprised Adam as well.

Normally, the wooden handles of polearms should be oiled, sun-dried, and even reinforced with metal straps to prevent them from being chopped off.

Adam had no time to complain about the quality of the Stinger Hammer; he bellowed and, summoning all his strength, gave a fierce downward yank, and Hong Lingyu’s scimitar flew from his hand.

Adam followed through with a downward thrusting step, aiming straight for Hong Lingyu’s right rib.

Sparks flew where the hammer tip met the armor.

The final impact on the armor left only a dent, but the momentum was transmitted through the armor scales to the body.

Four of Hong Lingyu’s ribs snapped instantly; he was in so much pain he couldn’t make a sound and fell to the other side of the saddle.

The crudely made Stinger Hammer also reached its limit, the front end of the wooden handle exploding with a “bang,” and the iron spike flew who knows where.

The warhorse, startled, fled wildly. Hong Lingyu, with his left foot trapped in the stirrup, was dragged away by the warhorse, screaming in agony.

“What kind of rubbish is this!” Lieutenant Adam roared like thunder, furiously smashing the wooden stick with the scimitar hanging from it onto the ground.