Chapter 324: Charge

They had marched for days, and supplies and feed for the horses were running low. If they wasted more time, both soldiers and animals would begin to starve.

Ten thousand soldiers, in an open field, away from their fortifications?

This might be his best chance.

Rowe’s voice rang cold: "Send scouts to search the flanks, check the woods for any hidden forces. Once we’re clear..."

He drew his blade slowly.

"...The rest of you, prepare for battle."

---

Benjamin stood calmly, waiting for Rowe to arrive.

Upon learning that the reavers were approaching Cardiff City, he had immediately ordered the evacuation of all civilians outside the city. Some fled to the mountains, some took refuge within the city, while others hid in fortified strongholds. They were to leave nothing edible behind in their homes.

After issuing that command, Benjamin gained a deep appreciation for the role of the militia and production brigades among the people. These two institutions quickly mobilised and efficiently supported his efforts.

Once the civilians were safely hidden, the militia regrouped, forming another line of defence against the reavers.

Thus, Benjamin chose to confront the enemy here, with ninety per cent certainty that Rowe would take the bait and risk attacking.

First, as Clinton’s vanguard, Rowe’s supplies would be limited and mostly consumed by now. Second, Rowe burned with rage and sought to kill him. Third, Rowe couldn’t bypass the main road without a local guide, and finding one now would be difficult.

And even if Rowe did risk travelling on smaller paths, Benjamin wasn’t concerned. Those routes were rough and filled with forests and swamps, perfect for an ambush.

"Commander, Rowe’s cavalry is moving in this direction." A scout reported, snapping Benjamin from his thoughts. A grin appeared on Benjamin’s face. "All units, prepare for battle!" He ordered.

With that, a rhythmic trumpet echoed, and the Brambleford army sprang into action.

The chariot troops moved first. The three hundred war wagons shifted from column formation into three separate square defensive positions.

Each war wagon designed by Simon was five meters long. A hundred of them created a line nearly 500 meters wide. Factoring in the gaps between the chains, one side of a square formation stretched nearly 200 meters.

The three wagon formations formed a staggered triangle, resembling the ’pin’ character. Each boxy wagon was offset like the corners of European bastions, allowing maximum fire coverage.

Once the wagons were in place, the drivers jumped out and linked the rear chains, forming an interlocked wall. The harnesses and gear were detached, though the horses remained tethered inside the formation for future use.

The horses were guarded by the drivers and shield-bearers.

Outside the wagons, three rows of musket troops lined the perimeter, forming a hollow square formation: wagons in the middle, musket men outside, a strange yet efficient defensive style.

Inside the square, cannons poked out from behind the wagons. A thousand cuirassier cavalry stood ready to charge at any time.

This formation had been jointly developed by Simon and Benjamin. It was this confidence that allowed Simon to send a relatively small force to support Preston.

Within the Brambleford army, this formation was nicknamed the ’Sandwich Formation,’ a name that only Simon could have come up with.

Once complete, Benjamin and his generals were positioned safely within the innermost wagon square.

Had this been in the past, Benjamin would never have dared face ten thousand cavalry in open terrain. Even thirty thousand foot soldiers would have stood no chance. But now, with muskets and these formations, he believed one thousand musket troops, three thousand cavalry, and four thousand wagon troops could defeat the reaver riders in the field.

This was something he wouldn’t have dared dream of before. Without five times their number, the Eldorian Empire’s armies wouldn’t have dared face reaver cavalry in open battle.

In the distance, dust clouds signalled the approach of Rowe’s cavalry. Soon, they appeared on the plains.

Three hundred meters away, Rowe’s troops halted and began forming up. On the six-kilometre-wide plains, the two sides faced each other.

"Are they insane?" Rowe muttered, watching the Brambleford soldiers dressed in green uniforms holding strange, long weapons.

His lieutenants also looked puzzled.

Instead of forming a tight phalanx, the Brambleford troops had split into three separate formations, suicidal, in the reavers’ eyes.

Beyond the front lines, Rowe saw three thousand cavalry nestled in the centre, barely enough to plug his teeth.

His eyes narrowed at the strange wagons behind the soldiers.

"What formation is this? I’ve never seen anything like it." One of his lieutenants asked.

"Neither have I," Rowe replied, staring at the final formation. His gaze locked on the bold character ’Benjamin,’ a name that made his blood boil.

Until now, Brambleford’s troops had always hidden behind city walls. But here they stood, exposed, on terrain that clearly favoured his cavalry.

The two armies stood silently, tension mounting.

Then a scout arrived. "No ambushes detected!" He declared.

"Charge!" Rowe roared, raising his scimitar.

His troops surged forward in a three-hundred-meter-wide line.

As always, the reaver cavalry split into two flanks, attempting to encircle the enemy and fire arrows from all sides.

Back in the formation, Benjamin smiled coldly. He’d expected this.

Reaver archers typically began shooting at fifty paces. But musket range extended to eighty or ninety paces, giving his troops a clear advantage.

In the past, the Eldorian Empire’s soldiers had no answer to such encircling archery attacks. The volley would break their lines, then heavy cavalry would sweep in to slaughter.

But today would be different.

As the horsemen closed in, the first row of Brambleford soldiers raised their muskets.

Black tide met green wall.

At eighty paces, an officer gave the order to fire.

"Bang! Bang!" A volley of white smoke erupted from the musket muzzles.

Like hail, lead bullets tore into the charging cavalry.

Within moments, the front ranks fell like wheat, horses tumbling, riders crashing.

More gunfire was coming.

And this time, it wasn’t the soldiers who would fall, but the illusion of invincible cavalry supremacy.