Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

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The Paratu square formation was solemnly silent; no one fired prematurely, as the musketeers quietly awaited the order to shoot.

The Hurd cavalry retreated to a slightly farther place, no longer charging to probe or dismounting, lingering at a distance.

Colonel Robert couldn't help but lick his lips as he estimated the enemy had stopped at about two hundred meters away, neither far nor near.

Two hundred meters, it would take cavalry twenty seconds at full sprint, at most thirty.

Yet, this distance was also just beyond the effective range of the muskets.

It had been said that if a person were shot and killed by a musket at two hundred meters away, it was no different than being struck dead by a meteorite.

The Herders had gauged this distance accurately; if it wasn't a coincidence... it meant that the enemy was well-informed about the capabilities of the Paratu muskets and had come prepared.

While executing pincer movements on both flanks, the Red River Tribe made other moves as well.

Over a thousand Herders dismounted and pushed their shield carts towards the square formation from the front.

Seeing the Herders draw out their treasured shields, Colonel Robert began to change the formation accordingly.

He clenched his fist, muttering resentfully, "Why didn't we bring a few cannons? Then we wouldn't have to be bullied by shield carts."

Musketeer Pinter received orders and hurriedly ran with his comrades to form lines at the front of the square formation.

The Hurd shield carts advanced to about two hundred meters and then stopped.

Colonel Robert was surprised to find that among the Herders by the shield carts, quite a few were carrying muskets.

First shock, then bewilderment; at a certain moment, Robert suddenly felt cold in his hands and feet.

Meanwhile, the charge tune abruptly rang out, and the orderlies sprinted from the central army towards the west in all directions.

"The general commands an attack!" shouted the orderly as he ran towards Robert's formation, "The general commands an attack!"

"Everyone, at attention!" roared Robert, "Advance, march—forward!"

The Centurions and sergeants repeated the orders in succession.

Pinter, carrying his musket, scrambled from the side to the front of the formation. He had just set up his gun and hadn't had time to fix the match.

Hearing the sudden order, he was somewhat at a loss.

Looking up ahead, Pinter saw the Herders lifting the canvas from the shield carts not far away.

The dark muzzles of the canons were exposed.

A flash of red light.

"Boom!"

Twenty or so iron balls the size of walnuts shot out, scattering in the air like steel hail, sweeping across the Paratu formation.

Pinter barely felt anything before his consciousness was extinguished.

His comrades only saw Pinter's body suddenly fall backwards; his musket slipping from his hand to the ground.

His tent mates rushed to help him up, only to find that he had been hit straight in the forehead by an iron ball and was already dead.

Four cannons fired in sequence, with the outer ring of musketeers in the formation continuously falling.

Range is the hardcore truth; if I can hit you but you can't hit me, then you can only be beaten passively.

After one round of fire, the Hurd gunners reloaded.

The Paratu soldiers grew restless, having neither expected the Herd Barbarians to have cannons nor having been trained to "stand and take a beating without response."

"Advance!" Colonel Robert roared at the stunned soldiers around him: "Normal pace! Advance!"

The dazed drummers hurriedly beat the drums.

Amidst the sound of drumming, the Paratu People quickly recovered from the shock and began to advance.

They couldn't just stand there, taking beatings; they had to seize those four cannons.

But more important than capturing the cannons was to maintain the cohesion of the formation.

A normal pace of seventy-two steps per minute, with each step about sixty centimeters, it would take about five minutes to reach the two hundred meters to the cannon position—if the cannons didn't move.

Seventy-two steps per minute wasn't slow, but to most Paratu soldiers at this moment, this pace felt agonizingly slow.

Yet, it was only at this speed that the large square formation could avoid collapsing.

The Red River Tribe had only four cannons; a single barrage wouldn't kill many.

However, with the dead in sight and the dying's screams in earshot, each round of fire was like drawing lots, where drawing meant death; no one wanted to partake in such a lethal lottery.

The Paratu soldiers' throats were parched, their pace involuntarily quickened, and the formation started to become disarrayed.

From time to time, soldiers would walk into other rows by mistake, or fall and disturb even more men.

"All Centurions! All sergeants!" Colonel Robert, seeing this and anxious at heart, commanded: "Maintain formation!"

The horns blared collectively, and the Herders were waiting for just this moment. The cavalry on both wings suddenly set off, launching a deluge-like charge at the Paratu army.

The "Cease March" tune came from the central army, its brief melody urgently repeated by the horn players.

"Stop! Everyone stop!" Lieutenant Roy, not sparing his magical power, ordered with sound amplification: "Reform the lines!"

The Paratu square halted and began to reorganize on the spot. The musketeers retreated inside the formation, while the pikemen leveled their pikes.

Seizing the opportunity, the Hurd gunners executed a second volley, then quickly moved the cannons to a farther location.

The Herders armed with muskets rapidly closed in on the Paratu square, clearly up to something.

Colonel Robert was furious to the point of tearing at his hair, but his immediate concern was to withstand the Hurd cavalry's charge; he could only watch as the Herders shed blood.

The military flag swayed, and the square formation of the central army thunderously unfolded.

Lieutenant [Laszlo], holding the military flag high, led the way, with a hundred and fifty heavy halberdiers shouting and charging out of the formation, heading straight for the Herders' four cannons.

This was a complete suicide mission, but the Paratu People had to eliminate those four cannons; otherwise, they would continue to be subjected to passive beatings.

The Hurd musketeers retreated in panic, followed swiftly by over a hundred Hurd warriors surging from behind the shield carts to meet the charge of the Paratu heavy halberdiers.