Game of Thrones: From a deserter to a high-ranking official

Chapter 194 Canney

Chapter 125 Canney (2)

General Varro raised his hand, stopping the two men from arguing.

How could he not know the pressure that Lucius's words represented?

Longbridge was humiliated, the Senate was furious, the Tiger Party seized the opportunity to launch an attack, and the Elephant Party desperately needed a clean and decisive victory to save face.

A swift and decisive victory to annihilate this enemy force that has penetrated deep into our territory would have enormous political significance.

"Lord Lucius, Commander Kádár's concerns are reasonable," Marco said in a deep voice, trying to make his tone sound moderate.

"The enemy is no easy opponent; they are not lucky clowns. On the contrary, they are a battle-hardened army, and their victories and miracles are not entirely due to luck."

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"The terrain here is indeed unfavorable for our army's deployment, however—"

He changed the subject, his gaze hardening, not only to persuade Kádár, but also to convince himself, and to respond to the political pressure behind Lucius.

"The opportunity is fleeting. The enemy is equally exhausted, perhaps even more so. If we do not attack now, and they catch their breath or find another way to escape, it will be difficult to capture them again."

"The formation of my legion, the Twilight Raiders, is designed specifically for breaching enemy lines. Even with limited terrain, once we break through and disrupt their command, no matter how ingenious their plans, they will inevitably fail!"

"Idiot, I won't let my soldiers wear heavy armor. They are nimble wolves, not heavy hammers!" Kadar threw an iron helmet to the ground and pointed his finger at the slave who had come to deliver the message.

"Go back and tell your master that the Fifth Legion [Summer Storm] are light cavalry. Do you even know what light cavalry is?"

"Lord Kadar, why are you so agitated over a mere messenger slave?" Lucius's deliberately aristocratic, ambiguous voice came from behind Kadar. He rode up on a magnificent warhorse, surrounded by a small retinue of well-dressed young noblemen, his face bearing a feigned calm.

"Ah, our young master has arrived?" Kadar scoffed, replying with a mocking tone. "What, having just convinced that old geezer Varo, now you're trying to put shackles on us wild horses?"

"We need to charge the cavalry. The current situation demands a decisive assault, not just circling on the perimeter."

"If it's just a matter of procrastination and observation, we don't need it."

"But now we're going to war, we're going to have a real fight with them!"

"I have never been brave," and "I have never been glorious," said Kadar, crossing his arms, his tone sarcastic.

"I'm just a seasoned veteran who's been rolling around on the grasslands and sands, a pathetic stray dog ​​who only knows how to bite off a piece of the enemy's flesh with the least amount of damage and then escape unscathed."

"Lord Kadar!" Lucius raised his voice, his face flushed slightly, but he still tried his best to maintain "respect." "Please don't say any more of those things—words that damage a soldier's dignity and morale! We are soldiers of Valantis, not bandits!"

"I'll say whatever I want, young master." Kadar waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies. "The grasslands and battlefields don't have as many complicated rules as your cities. Fists, swords, and survival are the only real things."

"I'll say what I want to say, young master. There aren't so many rules on the grasslands."

Lucius finally lost his temper. He suppressed his anger and stared at Kádár: "Your Excellency, do you have a personal grudge against me? If so, we can be frank with each other."

"Prejudice?" Kadar scoffed. "No, I don't have any prejudice against people. I just simply hate idiots, especially the kind of idiots who are stupid themselves but insist on dragging others down with them to their deaths!"

He suddenly flicked his whip, pointing it at the cavalrymen around him who were preparing their horses, most of them wearing light armor, carrying bows and arrows, and with scimitars at their waists.

"Open your eyes and take a good look, young master! Look at these lads! Look at these warhorses! They were born to chase, flank, harass, and plunder like the wind! Not to don armor and charge into battle with lances!"

He took a step closer, his voice filled with suppressed anger and extreme impatience with Lucius's naive ideas.

"Lord of Light! I beg you, even for now, please squeeze out all those beautiful bubbles in your head about 'glory,' 'merit,' and 'being recorded in history'!"

"Use that brain of yours, meant for composing poetry, to think about practical matters! You're asking us to abandon what we're best at and do what we're worst at. Is this for victory, or just to satisfy your own impatient vanity?!"

Lucius's face darkened completely, because the accusation was too severe.

He retorted sharply, "Are you accusing me of putting my personal desires above the interests of the Valantis Empire?!"

This is serious slander, Your Excellency Kadar!

"No, I'm just stating the facts. If you feel this is slander, it's probably because I'm right about something. I'm just stating the facts, describing what I've seen and thought."

Along the Canney River, a suffocating sense of confrontation hangs over this valley.

Time crawled slowly in the oppressive silence.

The air was stiflingly hot. The anticipated overwhelming attack from the Valantis did not come. Tiberius sat on the ground and took off his helmet.

"What's going on with them? The soldiers are standing in the scorching sun, and where are their officers? They're just standing there without giving any orders?" Tiberius muttered.

"They had a falling out," Vito yawned. "It wasn't the kind of conflict where we mocked old Tom for gambling away all his money; it was a fundamental conflict about 'how to fight' or 'whether to fight.'"

"Theoretically speaking, shouldn't Valantis be the kind of person who, once he gives the order, launches a full-scale attack and makes up his mind, will definitely do it? —"

"Bullshit, kid!" Vito said with a knowing smile.

"Where there are people, there are factions, gangs, and different thoughts and calculations. Generals have their interests, and the battalion commanders, centurions, and captains below them each have their own ideas. The Tiger Party, the Elephant Party, local nobles, foreign mercenaries—there are plenty of times when their interests and ideas don't align! Do you think they're all like us, with a leader that everyone respects, and a clever little leader like you?"

He spat and continued, "There are a lot of twists and turns in this. From this perspective, their politics are not that different from those of the Three Daughters Kingdom."

"Alright, let's see what's going on with the enemy. Not bad, hopefully they'll keep arguing for a while." Vito pointed into the distance.

"Look at them, especially those young men in heavy armor, just standing there in the sun? In this weather, their inner linings must be soaked with sweat by now. This is slowly weakening their stamina. In this weather, every extra fifteen minutes they stand there means a loss of more energy."

"So we're just going to watch?" Tippi frowned slightly. His carefully laid trap required the prey to step into it willingly. The longer it dragged on, the more tired and anxious his side would become.

"What's there to be afraid of?" Vito's smile carried the cunning and ruthlessness unique to veterans. He pulled his hat over his face and said in a muffled voice.

"They stand, we sit; they bask in the sun, we hide in the shade; they are fully armored, we take off our armor if we can, and drink water if we can. They are wasting their precious energy, morale, and fighting spirit with their rigid discipline. We're guaranteed to profit from this deal."

Tiberius looked at Old Tom's men on the left wing, who were sitting on the ground with their spears beside them, and the soldiers drawing water from the river, and couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"This sounds like a rabble trying to take on a bunch of tough guys."

"A mob? Hmm, if they can win, then they're not a mob."

"What's it called?"

Vito removed the hat from his face, sat up, and patted Tiberius on the shoulder: "Veteran!"

"Pass down the order," Tiberius whispered to the messenger beside him.

"Tell Dmitry and Habro that their commander has ordered them to remain on high alert, but allows each unit to take turns relaxing and replenishing their water and food. Tell the soldiers that the enemy is suffering more than we are; they are torturing themselves. We are waiting in ambush."

Time is passing. The sun is setting slightly in the west, but the heat remains.

In the Valantis army, soldiers suffering from heatstroke began to appear and were helped away by their comrades. The originally orderly infantry squares developed some gaps, but these were quickly filled by other soldiers.

However, murmurs of discontent could be faintly heard within the formation.

Especially for veterans, this was seen as a crime against them.

The central breakthrough offensive that Lucius and Varro had been hoping for was quietly dissipating amidst this pointless waiting and internal friction, lacking the momentum needed for a decisive push.

On Tiberius's position, the soldiers, having rested, regained their sharp eyes and some of their strength. Looking at the enemy suffering under the scorching sun, their initial fear gradually gave way to a calm scrutiny and the patience of waiting for their prey to tire.

Jules walked to Tiberius's side, looked across at them, and said in a deep voice, "The cracks within their ranks are deeper than we anticipated. This is a good thing for us, but we cannot let our guard down. A cornered dog will do the opposite; an army under too much internal pressure can be exceptionally fierce once it takes action."

Li Sanluo also came over, wiping the sweat from his forehead, looking both excited and nervous: "Then does that mean we have a better chance of winning?"

"Never judge the outcome before the battle is over, young master Lisanro." Jules glanced at him. "At most, we have a slightly better chance of winning; the battle is still undecided."

"But at least, we made it less satisfying for our opponents to raise their hammer."

"Oh, and tell Sevita to stay put in the reeds. No signal. Even if the enemy walks right in front of him, he has to pretend he's a block of wood!"

Finally, the enemy began to move.

"Prepare for engagement!" Old Tom hoisted his rifle and shouted, urging his soldiers to move forward. "Rackets up, line up and engage!"

"Line up in a horizontal formation to engage the enemy!" Dmitry ordered his soldiers to form a long column. "Make it denser, don't be so loose, or the enemy will easily break through! Density! Depth! Impact!"

"Old brothers, prepare to flank them! Smash their spear shafts!" Habrol, brandishing his longsword, ordered his men, the elite soldiers specially selected for close-quarters combat and melee—mostly wielding greatswords, battle axes, and flails.

"Once the guns close in, find an opening and slip in from the flank! Don't worry about their formation, cut their gun barrels and smash their kneecaps! Understand?!"

At a single command, the Left Army began its preparations for battle. Accompanied by the beat of drums and the angry shouts of officers, "Alright, get ready to face the enemy, Tiberius, you brat!" Vito hoisted his crossbow. "Tell your Lightning Regiment soldiers to hold out, and retreat slowly, understand?"

"I understand, Vito." Tiberius nodded.

"Ugh!" A heavily armored soldier from the Twilight Raiders was busy dodging enemy spearheads when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his inner thigh and collapsed to his knees.

Old Tom grinned maliciously as he plunged the dagger deeper into the enemy's groin, then ripped off his helmet and stabbed the dagger in again.

"Ground rat! Ground rat!" a soldier roared in despair before Old Tom plunged his dagger into his throat.

He tried to cover the wound, but old Tom just twisted his wrist viciously, doing everything he could to damage it.

As for his comrades, they were busy fighting against the opposing spearmen at this time, so they had no time to take care of their partners.

The veterans of Habrow saw the stalemate on the front line and were like jackals smelling blood.

In the gaps of chaos and pressure created by Old Tom, they pounced from the flanks.

They didn't follow formations, but rather attacked in small groups, focusing on the lower body and flanks. Heavy battle axes cleaved through the leg armor of the Valantis soldiers, enough to make them stagger and lose their balance; greatswords swept across, forcing enemies to raise their shields to block, thus exposing openings; flails whistled as they smashed against helmets, causing dizziness even through iron helmets.

Everything unfolded as Tiberius had predicted: the left wing made contact with the enemy first, and old Tom and his veterans not only halted the enemy's advance but also allowed Habroy to launch several brilliant small counterattacks in localized areas.

Central Army Direction.

"Damn it, Vito, can't you get your crossbowmen to step up their game?" Tiberius cursed angrily.

"If this continues, it won't be a slow retreat to lure the enemy deeper, it'll be fucking blown up—fuck your mother!" Tiberius tilted his head to dodge a thrust of a spear, then threw a short spear into the enemy formation.

Oh, and it even comes with a lightning effect, guaranteeing 24 hours of absolutely peaceful sleep.

Yes, Tiberius boasted at the meeting: the enemy will definitely concentrate their forces and break through from the center, thus completely defeating us.

But when it came to the actual implementation, Tiberius realized just how terrifying the Valantis, especially the Twilight Raiders, were at their central breakthrough!

The basic structure of the [Twilight Raiders] is squads, with squads of heavily armored warriors rotating in turn. Their power and precision far exceed the imagination of this time traveler who relies on "historical knowledge" and "cleverness".

This is far from a simple matter of overwhelming numbers. The Twilight Raiders operate on a basic unit of elite ten-man squads, resembling miniature, heavily armed steel hedgehogs. These squads consist entirely of heavily armored infantrymen who do not charge in a swarm, but rather advance in shifts like precise gears, maintaining continuous pressure.

After a small squad launches a fierce attack for several minutes, if the soldiers show signs of fatigue or encounter strong resistance, another fully equipped squad will immediately take their place from the flank or rear. The squad that is replaced will then quickly retreat to catch their breath and regroup.

This allowed their offensive waves to surge higher and higher, with almost no breaks, displaying astonishing endurance. Enough to overwhelm any enemy in their path.

Faced with Varro's formation, Tiberius and his men had no room to maneuver or retreat, because the enemy's superior forces would force their army to retreat, and they might eventually be cut off and defeated one by one.

On the central battlefield, Tiberius and his men could only barely maintain their lines. Blessed by the "Ruthless" aura, Tiberius's Lightning Legion and other soldiers, though their lines were crumbling and constantly retreating, maintained basic discipline and did not collapse.

Moreover, Tiberius was backed by Vito's crossbowmen. These experienced soldiers' crossbows were not meant to kill the enemy, but rather to temporarily delay the enemy's advance with a rain of arrows when our army retreated.

Against heavily armored enemies, arrows from bows and arrows are almost impossible to pose a threat unless they hit vulnerable areas such as the eye sockets or armpits.

So Vito chose another approach: instead of inflicting casualties, he used several volleys to delay the enemy's advance as Tiberius's infantry were about to retreat.

The arrow rain did not aim to cover the soldiers engaged in hand-to-hand combat at the front, but rather bypassed them, shooting towards the rear echelons of the enemy lines who were rotating, gathering, or attempting to widen the breakthrough.

This tactic effectively slowed down the enemy's coordinated attacks, disrupted their rotation rhythm, and bought the central army soldiers valuable time to regroup and rebuild their defenses.

"Damn, to be honest, this kid's command and control is pretty good." Vito placed a thick, armor-piercing arrow into the groove, then pulled the trigger. "This feels like we can really win!"

Right Army.

"Léon, what's the situation with the right wing?" Jules asked in a deep voice, hiding in the woods.

"Boss, Tiberius's wagon camp is interesting," Leon said with a smile. "It's indeed a good way to resist cavalry, especially light cavalry. These guys' scimitars, bows and arrows, and a few lances can't break through this kind of makeshift defense."

Yes, the main force of the right wing was the wagon battalion and the temporary tactical fortifications it constructed.

The right wing was facing a wave of enemy forces, so Jules did not allow them to move from the beginning. Instead, he waited until the enemy took the initiative to attack before allowing the central and left wings to move simultaneously, thus achieving the effect of "engaging the enemy at the same time" to some extent.

"Now, let's see how long the right wing can hold out—" Jules muttered to himself.