Chapter 323: Intel...

"Commander, the reaver general leading this 10,000-man force is named Rowe."

"Reporting, sir! The enemy cavalry is now less than 100 kilometres from Cardiff City!"

"Commander, along the way, the reaver cavalry has been committing massacres and looting. The refugees from Preston are suffering tremendous losses."

"..."

Inside the military command tent at Cardiff City, scouts from the scout Cavalry returned one after another, delivering urgent updates.

"Bam!" Lancelot slammed the table with fury. "Commander, they’re retaliating. This is an eye-for-an-eye strategy; they’re using our own grassland raiding tactics against our territory now!"

Benjamin’s expression darkened. He now understood why a single 10,000-strong detachment had broken away from the main reaver army and advanced toward Cardiff City.

"Rowe... The name rings a bell." Liam muttered, frowning. "Didn’t Richard mention this man before?"

Benjamin’s eyes lit up with recognition. "Yes, that’s right. Rowe is one of Clinton’s most vicious generals. Last time, when I led a cavalry raid deep into the grasslands, we attacked his tribe. We slaughtered every last man, woman, and child."

Richard had long been tasked with collecting intelligence on the reaver tribes. Brambleford’s military command now possessed a complete dossier of their generals, courtesy of his work.

"If that’s the case, we’re in even greater danger," Lancelot said, his brows furrowed. "Rowe is clearly out for revenge. He’ll slaughter our civilians if given the chance."

The other commanders shared the same grim concern.

Benjamin took a moment to think. "The reavers must’ve been collecting intel on us as well. Rowe likely knows it was I who led the raid on his people. If he finds out I’m leading an infantry force into Preston... What do you think he’ll do?"

"He’ll definitely come for you," Lancelot said gravely. "Rowe’s known for his hot temper and impulsiveness. But Commander, this is extremely dangerous."

"Not necessarily," Benjamin said, eyes gleaming. "Rowe doesn’t know Brambleford troops are now armed with flintlocks. His Highness told us: strike while they’re still unfamiliar with firearms. A surprise ambush may just work."

Liam nodded in agreement. "We’ve already exposed their movements. The element of surprise is gone for them, but not for us. We could lay an open-order square formation ambush right along their route."

Benjamin pointed to a specific location on the map, about 30 kilometres from Cardiff City. "Here. Our scouts already surveyed the area. The main road is wide, flanked by grasslands and dense woods. If Rowe wants to get deeper into Brambleford, he’ll have to go through this pass."

Unlike the open plains of the grasslands, the Eldorian Empire’s inner territories were shaped by agricultural civilisation. Towns and cities were built around key roads and choke points.

Sure, cavalry could try to bypass cities, but the roads were still necessary for rapid movement, especially for supply-heavy raids like this one.

Taking unfamiliar backroads carried the serious risk of getting lost, especially for foreign troops. That’s why Benjamin chose to ambush them on the official highway.

With the ambush site selected, Benjamin gave his orders. Flintlock units, war wagons, and artillery teams were to move out immediately and begin setting up along the designated area.

Lancelot and Liam moved out at once, marshalling troops.

Based on Rowe’s distance, 100 kilometres away, and the average reaver cavalry march speed, Benjamin estimated they’d arrive by tomorrow.

Though horses were fast in short bursts, they lacked endurance. A long march would exhaust them unless rest periods were built in. Reavers typically solved this by bringing multiple horses per rider, but even so, full-speed marching would wear them out.

Benjamin had thus made his worst-case assumption for arrival time.

That same night, Brambleford’s army quietly moved out of Cardiff City and began constructing fortified positions along the highway 30 kilometres outside the city.

Meanwhile, Benjamin kept dispatching scouts and raised his command banner high, deliberately baiting Rowe into attacking.

---

Fifty kilometres away from Cardiff City, Rowe was leading his cavalry down the official road, steadily pressing forward.

Scouts returned with a string of reports.

This entire plan, to bypass Cardiff City and raid deeper into Brambleford, had been set by Clinton himself. Rowe had been chosen to spearhead the mission.

Since the loss of his tribe, hatred had consumed Rowe. Every day, the need for revenge grew stronger.

He no longer feared death, only the possibility of dying without vengeance.

"Commander, twenty kilometres ahead, Brambleford forces are entrenched and awaiting battle." A scout reported.

Rowe frowned. "Why do they always seem to know exactly where we are?"

The scout fell silent. He had no answer. Not a single Brambleford scout had been spotted by their own forces, yet the enemy always seemed to know their next move.

After a moment, Rowe grunted. "Ignore them. We’ll bypass Cardiff City and strike deeper into Brambleford. We’ll plunder the towns near the capital."

The rebellion in Preston had provided them with an opening, and last year’s brutal winter had wiped out much of the Order’s livestock. It was their first major food shortage in years.

To survive, many tribes had begun selling off their slaves or even killing them to preserve resources.

This southern campaign was all about looting grain.

But in Preston, all they’d found was famine and wasteland, filled with starving, desperate peasants. The region had been picked clean.

So now, under Clinton’s orders, Rowe had turned toward Brambleford.

"But the highway is our only route." The scout pointed out.

"Idiot! Can’t you capture a local peasant and force him to lead the way?" Rowe snarled.

"Yes, sir!" The scout galloped off.

Just then, another scout arrived. "Commander, our forward scouts report that the Brambleford troops are mostly infantry and war wagons. Only a small cavalry unit is present. The command bears the name Benjamin."

"Benjamin?!" Rowe’s eyes turned bloodshot.

He’d finally learned who had massacred his people. Benjamin was the name burned into his nightmares.

"I’ll kill him..." Rowe’s breathing grew ragged, his knuckles white on the reins.

A subordinate commander tried to calm him. "Commander, it’s probably a trap. We can’t fall for the Eldorian Empire people’s tricks."

Rowe clenched his jaw and held back his rage. After several deep breaths, he forced himself to remain still, awaiting more intel.

An hour later, a scout returned. "Sir, all nearby villages outside Cardiff City are completely abandoned. The locals have all fled."

That only infuriated Rowe more, yet another sign they had been expected.

Then came another report: "Commander, the Brambleford army ahead numbers only around ten thousand. They’re positioned far from the city, exposed in open terrain."

His fury faded slightly, replaced by calculating malice.