Chapter 292:
The battle on the highlands continued for nearly half an hour. Senior officers like Schroeder, Claude, and Tirpitz led their troops in hand-to-hand combat, finally reclaiming the artillery positions.
No matter how seasoned the mercenaries were in warfare, they couldn’t withstand the tight cooperation of over 600 Alda soldiers. Especially since most of the mercenaries on the highlands were longbowmen, who weren’t adept at close combat. They were inevitably defeated.
The regular soldiers assigned to protect the longbowmen lost their nerve after witnessing the formidable volleys of the muskets.
In Paul’s military strategy, his army didn’t focus on being elite forces; instead, they relied on discipline and organization. The soldiers were expected to follow orders unconditionally, even if the commands weren’t the best or had flaws.
They didn’t need to be experts in every skill, but they had to master their specific roles. Like ants or bees, they worked collectively with excellent organization and division of labor, along with a spirit of self-sacrifice.
Due to the limitations of the era, what was considered an “elite” soldier wasn’t particularly outstanding. However, the literacy rate of the individual Alda soldiers was enough to outclass most other military units.Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com
Overall, the Duke’s army on the highlands faced a formidable enemy, perhaps half or a full generation ahead of them.
Leaving behind a pile of injured men groaning on the ground, the Duke’s army retreated back into the forest in the opposite direction of the Alda forces.
Schroeder ordered a quick cleanup of the battlefield, with priority given to assessing the damage to the cannons.
Fortunately, although there were signs of attempted relocation, not a single cannon was taken away. They were all left at their positions, though more than half of the cannon carriages were damaged.
“Why didn’t you move the cannons away earlier?” Schroeder asked, puzzled, interrogating the wounded prisoners left at the site.
The prisoners explained that the southern mercenaries (hired soldiers), who prided themselves on being familiar with all kinds of weapons in the world, wanted to use these “thunder hammers” to attack the Alda forces. However, when the Alda troops began their counterattack, the mercenaries couldn’t move the cannons in time and ended up damaging the carriages.
Schroeder chuckled at the response. Cannons were a novel weapon in history, and even though the mercenaries were experienced, they couldn’t have figured out how to use them, especially since the gunners had taken the gunpowder with them when they retreated.
“Immediately use the intact cannons to bombard the enemy, and organize the artillerymen to repair the damaged carriages,” Schroeder swiftly ordered.
...
Fergus and Emerson were still anxiously awaiting news.
The squad leader then hurriedly said, “There’s another important piece of information. There was a strong, strange smell permeating the highlands, like... like...” He scratched his head, trying to recall the smell, then suddenly slapped his forehead, exclaiming, “Right! It was sulfur. That strange smell must have been from burning sulfur.”
“Sulfur?” Fergus and Emerson both questioned, exchanging glances. Sulfur was a common fire-starter, but its combustion couldn’t be linked to the thunderous blasts of the thunder hammers. There must be something else.
Emerson leaned down from his horse and asked, “Did you get a good look at the specific structure of the thunder hammers?”
The squad leader scratched the back of his head, “The structure is quite simple, just a big metal tube, some made of bronze, some of iron.”
“Draw me a detailed diagram when we return to camp.”
“Yes, sir.”
While Emerson and his men were discussing the thunder hammers, the Alda army began their offensive, with the remaining cannons bombarding their position. Many troops at the front, without any orders, started moving backward to avoid the incoming cannonballs.
Fergus and Emerson could see that after the failure of the flanking attack and repeated frontal assaults, the morale of their troops had plummeted to an all-time low.
“Damn it, it’s my first time encountering such a tough nut with so few numbers,” Fergus cursed internally. In his previous military career, he had faced tough opponents, but those were when the forces were evenly matched. Today, even after the enemy received reinforcements, his own forces outnumbered them three to one.
Yet, the result was utterly humiliating...
Fergus looked northward, where the Alda soldiers were advancing in a solid line formation. From a distance, it didn’t look like individual soldiers, but a moving wall, exerting an overwhelming pressure.
“Lord Emerson?” The mercenary captain’s tone lacked its earlier arrogance.
Emerson, reluctant to admit defeat, nodded, “Sigh... let’s retreat.”
Thus, the battle at the border of the Duke’s territory finally came to a close.
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