"Attention! The barbarians are coming! Load the steel crossbows! Prepare for battle!"
This was an ordinary small hilltop in the southern province, except that a tall stone watchtower had been erected on it. The area within a hundred meters of the watchtower was covered in trenches of varying depths. Behind some of the trenches, half-man-high earthen walls had been piled up; along the inner edge of others, long wooden barricades had been placed. To reach the watchtower, one had to wind back and forth among all these trenches for a good while before finally arriving at the thick wooden door at its base. The watchtower itself wasn't large—it could hold at most a hundred men. But watchtowers like this could be found everywhere in the western reaches of the southern province, linked together into a network that covered half the province and was gradually spreading eastward.
Nearly a thousand barbarians, clad in crude leather armor, their hair hanging loose, their faces smeared with garish paint, reined in their horses at the foot of the hill, a good distance from the watchtower. They then hauled enormous raw-wood shields off the carts that followed them and, waving the crude, haphazard weapons in their hands while shouting to embolden themselves, began slowly advancing uphill behind those shields.
This was the outermost watchtower. At its peak, a fire had already been lit, and a column of blue smoke shot straight up into the sky—the alarm beacon signaling that the watchtower was under attack. Similarly, several neighboring watchtowers also raised columns of blue smoke, which meant it wasn't just a single watchtower under assault, but the entire forward line being attacked by the enemy.
A soldier of the Rock Legion, chewing on a grass stem, watched with open contempt as the barbarians below slowly crept uphill. Though the enemy outnumbered the tower's defenders ten to one, he couldn't have cared less. He spat out the grass stem and called over his shoulder, "Chief, these barbarians are truly sick in the head. Haven't they learned from the bloody lessons of the past few times? Now they've come up with eight giant shields and think they can block the steel crossbows. What a bunch of fools—I wonder how many will die before they run this time…"
Another soldier who was aiming a steel crossbow glanced up with a grin. "Anyone want to bet with me? I'll wager they'll drop the shields and flee after about a hundred dead. I'll put up one gold coin."
A big-bearded soldier walked over—the watchtower's officer, a centurion who also served as company commander. The
The big-bearded man slapped the back of the head of the soldier who'd been shouting about bets, none too gently, and cursed, "Bet my ass. How much of your monthly pay have you thrown away on gambling? You bet and lose every time. How old are you now? You should be saving some money, thinking about settling down. Think about what you'll do after you retire instead of messing around. All of you stay sharp. Our armor offers good protection, but these barbarians' poison arrows are no joke. Last time, Kriso took an arrow to the elbow because he wasn't careful, and they ended up having to cut the whole arm off. I want every one of you standing in front of me intact and whole when this campaign is over. Understood?"
When the nearly thousand barbarians crowded up to the trenches and began frantically digging to fill them with their weapons and bare hands, the watchtower's steel crossbows finally opened fire. Each watchtower was garrisoned by a company of a hundred men and equipped with twenty steel crossbows. The tower stood twelve meters tall, divided into four levels, with five crossbows positioned from the second level to the top. The top level was uncovered, while the crossbows on the three lower levels fired outward through embrasures. To put it bluntly, this watchtower was essentially
The crossbowmen in the watchtower were cunning. They didn't waste shots on those enormous raw-wood shields—they specifically targeted the barbarians digging to fill the trenches. As barbarian after barbarian fell with bolts in them, they quickly all crowded behind the shields, and nobody was willing to come out to fill the trenches anymore. The archers behind the shields fired wildly toward the watchtower in high arcs, but at over a hundred meters' distance they couldn't aim directly, and the barbarians' crude bows were so weak that the lofted arrows scattered who-knew-where.
This was practically a farce, hardly resembling a battlefield at all. Nearly a thousand barbarians didn't look like they had come to attack—they looked like they'd come to serve as targets. Fifty or sixty bodies lay scattered along the edge of the trenches, felled by crossbow bolts. The trenches themselves had barely been filled—not even halfway—and now all the barbarians huddled behind the enormous shields, not daring to show their heads. The watchtower and the attackers stood in a bizarre stalemate.
If these barbarians had ignored casualties and charged en masse, perhaps only two or three hundred would have needed to fall before the rest reached the base of the tower, and with a bit of luck they could have broken through the thick wooden door. Of course, that assumed the watchtower had no other countermeasures. But the problem now was that not a single barbarian was willing to be the sacrifice. They had come to plunder, not to die so their comrades could reap the gains and become victors.
The big-bearded officer stared at the eight enormous raw-wood shields standing at the edge of the trench, stroking his beard and muttering to himself, "Getting these massive shields up the hill was hard enough for them. But now they're all hiding behind them and won't come out. What do we do?"
A soldier said, "Chief, what if we use fire arrows?"
The big-bearded man shook his head. "No use. These are enormous raw-wood shields—burning through them would take who knows how long. If only they'd assigned us that thunderbolt catapult. One stone ball and that shield would be done for."
"Then just shoot the damn thing with concentrated fire," the betting soldier suggested.
"Fine, let's try it," the big-bearded man said.
The target was set on the centermost shield. At the big-bearded officer's command, twenty iron crossbow bolts streaked like lightning and slammed into the massive shield in an instant. The shield shuddered several times but didn't move. The big-bearded man said, disappointed, "No use—the shield held…"
Before he finished, cheers erupted from the soldiers around him: "Chief, look—look! The shield's falling!"
The shield that had taken twenty bolts was tipping straight backward, and as it toppled it splintered apart, revealing the nearly hundred barbarians hiding behind it and a few unlucky ones who'd been knocked flat by the splitting timber. The big-bearded man was elated. "Quick, reload—let's shoot some rabbits!"
It really was as easy as shooting rabbits. The barbarians who'd lost their shield scurried in every direction. Half of them were lucky enough to squeeze behind the remaining shields, but the other half became easy prey for the crossbowmen. A few clever ones threw themselves flat on the ground behind earthen banks and the stumps of felled trees and survived, but the remaining forty or fifty barbarians were cut down in three volleys of crossbow fire. Several who tried fleeing downhill didn't even make it out of the crossbows' range, bolts punching clean through their backs and out their chests…
When the second raw-wood shield shattered under a concentrated volley of twenty bolts, none of the barbarians hiding behind the remaining shields could stomach it any longer. With a collective cry, they abandoned the shields and fled downhill. They dropped their weapons; some even grabbed their heads and rolled down the slope. They all knew the enormous shields couldn't protect them—they would sooner or later be shattered just like the first two, and they'd rather flee now than become targets later.
But their horses were nearly four hundred meters from the watchtower, beyond the steel crossbows' range. Previous attacks had taught the barbarians a harsh lesson—they would no longer park their mounts within crossbow range. Under the watchtower's relentless pursuit fire, more than half the barbarians still managed to escape the killing zone. When these barbarians, panting hard, were less than sixty or seventy meters from the horse herd, a large force of light cavalry suddenly burst over the ridge behind the hill. They swept in like a gale, and the weaponless barbarians scattered like panicked chicks fleeing an eagle. But two legs could never outrun four. Before long, under the cavalry's fast horses and keen blades, barbarian after barbarian crumpled to the ground, their blood staining a wide swath of land at the foot of the hill.
…
"You see, Duke Sabaji? This is the step-by-step strategy employed by the four families' alliance of Northland. They've linked these watchtowers into a network. Some are four to five hundred meters apart, some only two to three hundred meters, and their crossbow fire even covers the gaps between towers. I once ordered a thousand-strong cavalry battalion to cut through between two towers to get behind them, but it turned out there were more towers behind those two as well. My battalion was caught in the crossfire of three watchtowers, and only about four hundred made it back."
The Duke of Fisablen was speaking to an old man in ornate armor beside him. Moments earlier, they had watched from a distant hilltop as the barbarians' assault on the watchtower ended in failure and they were slaughtered by light cavalry.
"Towers like these hold no more than a hundred defenders each. The only real concern is where the Northland four-family alliance got so many siege crossbows. But from our observations, these siege crossbows seem to have been modified—they fire faster, are easier to move, and are remarkably accurate. Just now I sent over ten thousand barbarians to attack ten watchtowers, and as you saw, these barbarians are useless for siege work. They're fine in open-field battles when the wind is at their backs, but they can't crack these towers.
To tear down these watchtowers, you need disciplined infantry with siege experience to take them on. Our Fisablen Family fields only light cavalry—we're helpless against these towers, and they've completely negated our cavalry's advantages. Your Highness, I hope you can urge the other three duchies to send reinforcements as soon as possible. We're all in the same camp now. Whatever it takes, we must stop the Northland four families from seizing the southern province, or none of us will ever know peace again." The Duke of Fisablen spoke very frankly.
It was now the twelfth day of the seventh month of the year 1778 of the Galentea Common Calendar. After the Norton Family's Rock Legion arrived in the southern province, the Duke of Fisablen had been facing off against the Northland four-family alliance for nearly fifty days.
The Rock Legion had set up camp right in front of the defensive position the Duke had established. The Duke hadn't been too concerned—setting up camp before launching an attack was standard practice. He simply ordered his two legions to prepare their defenses.
But what the Duke of Fisablen hadn't anticipated was just how long the Rock Legion took to set up that camp. The first day, the second day, the third day—finally the Duke felt something was off. He went to observe for himself and discovered that what the Rock Legion was building wasn't a camp at all, but a defensive position—even more thorough and harder to crack than his own. The Duke of Fisablen was utterly blindsided. What the hell were they doing setting up a defensive position? Who was supposed to be the attacking side here?
After what felt like forever, the Rock Legion finished its defensive position, but instead of launching an attack, it began building these watchtowers in the surrounding area. Under the protection of the Angry Bear Knight Corps, tower after tower was completed in just ten days or so. Materials shipped continuously from the rear only needed to be assembled to form a solid stone fortress-like watchtower—and much of the credit went to the ample supply of vine resin.
The Duke of Fisablen sent out his Reserve Corps to probe the towers, only to discover that the fierce combat troops were completely powerless against them, suffering heavy casualties instead. Just as the Duke ordered the Reserve Corps to withdraw, the Angry Bear Knight Corps—lying in ambush and biding their time—suddenly struck from mid-route, catching the Reserve Corps completely off guard. The Reserve Corps lost nearly half its forces and only managed to retreat after suffering a crushing defeat.
The Duke of Fisablen was caught in a dilemma. He had found that his light cavalry, which swept all before them on the grasslands, had no role to play in the southern province. The Northland four-family alliance had used this network of linked watchtowers to completely neutralize the space in which his family's cavalry could operate. While it was true that with enough casualties he could still take such a tower, the Duke knew full well that the cost far outweighed the benefit—trading several hundred family soldiers' lives for a single watchtower was a losing proposition. Building a watchtower took only ten days or so, but training a competent light cavalryman took years…
As he watched more and more towers rising, occupying ever more ground, and finding himself at his wit's end, the Duke of Fisablen was just beginning to consider whether he should abandon his current position at the key transportation junction and pick another strategic location to build his own watchtower network in imitation of the Northland four families—when he finally received good news: Duke Sabaji had personally led twenty thousand reinforcements to the southern province to join forces with him.
The Duke of Fisablen was overjoyed. He had his eye on the central four duchies' reinforcements—his own family fielded only light cavalry and lacked siege infantry. But the troops sent by the four central duchies were mostly infantry, perfect for storming these watchtowers. Once they were taken, his family's Border Patrol Cavalry Corps could seize the opportunity to deal a heavy blow to the Northland four-family alliance. Without even realizing it, the Duke of Fisablen's thinking had taken a sharp turn—even he hadn't noticed. Now he wanted nothing more than to face the Norton Family's forces in a decisive battle, so long as they would stop cowering behind their watchtowers and fortified positions.
To bolster his case, the Duke of Fisablen selected over ten thousand discipline-violating volunteer warriors from the barbarian tribes that had come to fight, ordering them to attack the forward watchtowers to atone for their offenses. He was also generous in promising handsome rewards for victory and prepared enormous raw-wood shields for them to ward off the crossbow fire from the towers. Though the Duke himself had no real hope that this rabble of barbarians could take the towers, their Pathetic performance still made him lose face—though it also proved from another angle that what he'd said was true: cavalry really were no good at siege warfare.
Duke Sabaji was also a Great Swordmaster of vast battlefield experience, though he was only a first-rank Great Swordmaster who had forced his way up through rare medicinal drugs. After watching the barbarians' siege performance, he said to the Duke of Fisablen with a smile, "Your Highness, the four central duchies are paying very close attention to the war in the southern province. This concerns the long-term stability and security of the central duchies, and we absolutely will not allow the southern province to fall into the hands of the Andinak Kingdom's Northland four-family alliance. Besides the twenty thousand troops I've brought, the other three dukes will soon arrive with twenty thousand reinforcements each. Additionally, we will be bringing your family a large batch of supply materials.
Since we are allies, the four central duchies will fulfill their obligations as allies. We will not sit by and watch your family bear the burden of resisting the Andinak Kingdom's invasion alone. As for how to crack the Northland four-family alliance's watchtower tactics, we can wait for the other three dukes to arrive and devise a proper countermeasure together. No matter what, we will stand with your family and beat back the claws the Andinak Kingdom has extended toward the southern province."
…(To be continued.)