Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 962 - 38: The Hunt (9)_2
Chapter 962 -38: The Hunt (9)_2
“Leave it to Father Kaman,” Moritz repeated unchangingly: “And there’s that lion anyway.”
While they were speaking, the sound of hooves like hailstones piercing through the sandstorm reached everyone’s ears, getting louder and clearer.
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Cavalry was heading their way!
“Musketeers!” Pierre ran towards the direction of the hoofbeats, holding a spear, and bellowed: “My position! All units, prepare!”
The members of the delegation equipped with muskets moved in order to face the incoming cavalry, each finding a suitable firing position and carefully opening their powder pans.
The sandstorm was too powerful; some of the powder in the pans was instantly blown away.
“Don’t panic! Reload!” Pierre suppressed his urge to curse out loud: “Cover the pan with your cloaks!”
Others quickly took off their cloaks and even outer garments, helping the musketeers block the windblown sand.
Herders are not deaf; they too heard the thundering hoofbeats.
The smaller group of Herder hunters immediately succumbed to panic; some hunters rushed towards their warhorses, while others stood frozen on the spot.
The poor leader tried desperately to control his people, but the oncoming cavalry did not give him the chance.
A dark mass of cavalry broke through the dust storm, their spear points covered in dark red dried blood, charging directly at the smaller group of Herder hunters.
Before the two sides even made contact, the smaller group of Herder hunters had already completely collapsed.
Like a splash of blood spilled onto the sandy ground, the hunters from unknown small tribes scattered in all directions. Some dove into hunting circles, others fled into the sandstorm, and yet more ran towards the Iron Peak County Delegation in their blind panic.
“Do not fire!” Pierre leaped out from behind the felt wall and entered the space between the first and the second rows of caltrops, throwing his long spear fiercely at the oncoming Herder hunters.
With the spear thrown, Pierre drew his saber, rolled in front of the caltrops and roared loudly: “Get lost!!!”
Even without a common language, Pierre’s intended message was unmistakable. The Herder hunters immediately regained their senses, the majority of them repelled by Pierre’s shout, stumbling and scrambling to other places.
Only a skinny Herder, either petrified by fear or not scared at all, continued to run towards the temporary fortifications of the Iron Peak County Delegation.
Pierre gritted his teeth as he moved to confront him.
Seeing Pierre, the skinny, fleeing Herder hunter began shouting something frantically and, not watching his step, tripped over the first row of caltrops.
The skinny Herder hunter fell hard, pulling askew the stakes that were securing the caltrops.
Furious, Pierre raised his saber aiming to cleave the skinny Herder hunter. Seeing Pierre’s ferocious expression, the Herder hunter scrambled back in terror.
The next moment, Pierre roared angrily and with resignation, turning to rush back to the stake that fixed the caltrops. Common sense triumphed over rage for a moment; repairing the caltrops was more important than venting his anger.
He lifted the tilted stake; the soil of the hunting ground was loose, the original hole for the stake had deformed. Pierre could only use the handle of his saber to hammer the stake deeper.
Suddenly, a stone followed the handle and landed on the stake — the skinny Herder hunter had not run away, but instead, picked up a stone from somewhere; while looking at Pierre with terror, he helped.
Every time the skinny hunter struck the stake, he jumped up, compacting the soil around the stake as well. During the brief respite from the cavalry’s slaughter of the Herder hunters, Pierre and the skinny hunter managed to secure the stake once again.
Glancing at Pierre’s dark face, the skinny hunter turned and tried to flee but was caught by the collar by Pierre and yanked to the ground.
Regardless of the other’s struggle and shouting, Pierre dragged the skinny hunter, and with swift steps returned behind the felt wall.
The attacking cavalry did not pursue those who had fled far, nor did they collect war spoils. After scattering the skinny hunter’s tribe, they quickly regrouped.
Pierre threw the skinny hunter aside, panting as he asked: “How many barbarian cavalry?”
“Half a squadron, less than a hundred,” a Musketeer stated with wide eyes: “How come they can ride their horses?”
Pierre sneered: “Because they are the ones behind these tricks!”
There were two groups of Herder hunters near the Iron Peak County Delegation. The smaller group bore the brunt of the attack, receiving the first strike.
The other group of hunters — the people from the Haidong Tribe — acted decisively. As soon as the attacking cavalry appeared, they immediately abandoned the warhorses that truly couldn’t be ridden, multiple people riding together on the barely rideable warhorses, swiftly escaping the area.
The attacking cavalry had noticed the escapees but chose not to pursue, instead turning their attention towards the Iron Peak County Delegation that stood its ground.
They spurred their warhorses, circling the round formation of the Iron Peak County Delegation from a distance, not too close nor too far.
New recruits seeing this formation for the first time might feel intimidated; however, the soldiers picked by Winters were thoroughly familiar with the Herders’ tactics.
“Put away the muskets,” Pierre didn’t want to reveal their strength and weakness: “Be wary of arrows.”
The skinny hunter cowered behind the felt wall, incessantly repeating a word to Pierre.
Pierre grew suspicious: “Translator! What is he saying?”
The Translator listened several times and hesitantly provided an answer: “He seems to be saying — ‘east of Xianhai.'”
“Haidong Tribe?”
At that moment, the attacking cavalry seemed to have made up their minds, turning their blades and thrusting straight at the round formation.
Pierre had limited musketeers at his disposal, while the cavalry had the choice to launch an assault on any part of the round formation.
“Fire at will!” Pierre’s voice was already hoarse: “Hold the position!”
The Iron Peak County Delegation was few in number, and even if the position was very small, they could only barely maintain a hollow formation. Additionally, as they had not brought any long spears when they departed, everyone was only equipped with cavalry spears.
