Chapter 254: Charge!
Within Clinton’s pupils, there was only the endless firelight erupting from atop Dunmere’s walls and the trenches before them.
An entire hour had passed.
Wave after wave of slave soldiers had been driven forward, and wave after wave had vanished. In this moment, Clinton suddenly felt that the seemingly close Dunmere City was impossibly far away.
"Retreat! Retreat! All of you, fall back!"
Another wave of slave soldiers collapsed and fled. They could no longer bring themselves to charge again. The sight of mangled corpses had shattered the last shred of courage within them.
Rowe rode across the battlefield with his sabre, cutting down slave soldiers as he went. Each swing of the blade claimed another life. But even so, he couldn’t stop the retreating tide.
Merlyn’s gaze was grim. He had participated in the previous battle for Dunmere as well. Compared to last time, there were now even more cannons atop the city walls, and many more trebuchets placed along the trenches.
Among the trebuchets, thirty more cannons had been added. These cannons had yet to fire, their dark barrels gaping like silent beasts, cold and terrifying.
Meryln understood well; these cannons carried far deadlier shells. The last time their cavalry breached the gates, it was these same cannons that turned them to dust.
On the Dunmere walls, Simon silently watched the exchange. The explosions of black powder shells bloomed like deadly flowers on the grasslands, beautiful, but utterly lethal.
One wave of firepowder shells after another rained down, incinerating any slave soldiers who approached. The few who managed to reach the trenches were immediately cut down by the defenders stationed there.
"At this point, the reavers have no choice but to fill the trenches with corpses," Benjamin muttered.
The five-hundred-meter-long trench circle was completely impassable for cavalry. Now the enemy had no option but to rely on waves of expendable slave soldiers.
Aiden added. "We’re not aiming for victory this time. Just delay. All we need to do now is wait for good news from the grasslands."
Simon nodded. He had clearly seen the chaos unfolding on the battlefield, slave soldiers breaking ranks, their morale shattered by overwhelming firepower. There was even unrest in the reaver rear lines.
After all, these slave soldiers had never been truly loyal. They obeyed only out of fear. Now, between dying whole or dying in pieces, they had to make a choice.
As the three of them conversed, the reaver assault suddenly ceased. Simon noticed disarray forming within their ranks.
He quickly lifted his telescope; there, within the enemy formations, he saw reaver cavalry locked in combat with slave soldiers.
"My Lord, the slave soldiers have rebelled!" Benjamin exclaimed with delight.
Aiden also picked up a telescope for a closer look. Sure enough, groups of raggedly dressed slave soldiers had turned on the reaver riders. The carnage of cannons and firepowder bombs had finally pushed them past the brink of tolerance.
If death was certain either way, they would at least vent their fury on the reavers first.
"What should we do?" Aiden asked.
"Observe. Stay put." Simon replied.
It was still too early to launch a counterattack. This chaos was limited; likely only a few bands of slave soldiers had turned. If they gave up their defensive position to go on the offensive now, the reavers might seize the opening to strike.
As expected, the rebellion was quickly suppressed. But the reavers didn’t resume their assault. Instead, they seemed to be reorganising their slave troops.
"Let them drag it out," Simon said calmly. "If anyone can afford to play the attrition game now, it’s us."
Benjamin nodded in agreement.
---
In the reaver main camp...
Clinton’s expression was dark.
Just earlier, a group of a thousand slave soldiers had refused to attack, then launched a surprise assault on their cavalry. Though quickly suppressed, the unprecedented incident forced him to face a hard truth.
In just three months, Dunmere’s defensive capabilities had grown again.
The army had even dared to dig trenches and face them in open terrain, something no Eldorian Empire army had ever done before.
And now, for the first time, Clinton had to admit: he had never encountered a more difficult opponent.
Only now did he truly believe Fern’s words:
The future battlefield belongs to gunpowder.
"Cease the assault." Clinton finally ordered. At last, he understood how Agarth must have felt during his humiliation.
The slave soldiers were a major part of their manpower. If they were depleted here, it would fall upon the tribal warriors to charge next.
"You’re giving up the attack?" Rowe growled, his hatred burning brighter each day.
All he wanted now was to storm Dunmere and avenge his wife’s death.
Meryln replied. "Charging again would just throw more lives away."
"They’re slaves. Their lives aren’t lives. What does it matter if we use more of them?" Rowe snapped, his eyes red.
"Idiot." Meryln barked. "Our goal is to destroy the wall. If we lose too many troops doing it, it’s not worth it. Fern won’t be pleased."
Clinton looked over at Meryln. He agreed wholeheartedly.
After all, if he lost most of his troops just to tear down one wall, the Eldorian Empire forces could rebuild it in a month. That would make all the sacrifice meaningless.
So, for now, he suspended the offensive and prepared to send a messenger to Fern, reporting the current situation. If Fern still insisted on attacking, he would obey, but he was hesitant.
Though a man of Fern’s faction, he had his own ambitions. If the Sunderland Tribe declined like the Alkamite Tribe, Fern would cast him aside just as quickly.
---
With the reaver attack halted, the cannons atop Dunmere fell silent too. One kilometre apart, both sides entered a tense standoff.
Night soon fell.
In the trenches, Eldorian Empire soldiers remained vigilant. They hadn’t forgotten the night raid from before. Now, they were even more focused, but this night passed quietly. The reavers did not attack.
The following day, they still made no move.
But while the reavers stood still, Lancelot and Francis did not.
With experience from last time, the two cavalry columns roamed the grasslands with ease.
The reaver rear was exposed due to the main army’s march on Dunmere. This time, the tribes had deployed more scouts to guard against another ambush.
So, rather than night raids, Lancelot adopted a direct assault strategy. Whenever they found a small tribe, the cavalry would charge in head-on.
Even if discovered by sentries, Lancelot gave them no chance to send warnings back. His troops would follow them right to their camps. They might not wipe out every last man, but they slaughtered seven or eight out of every ten.
Their goal this time was no longer careful attrition; it was maximum chaos to force a reaver retreat.
And in just two days, Lancelot and Francis’s forces had already raided over ten tribes.
Panic swept through the Sunderland Tribe.
Rumours of the Eldorian Empire army’s return spread like wildfire, and tribe after tribe sent envoys to Dunmere to beg for aid.
Worse yet, they noticed this time that the enemy cavalry was more numerous than before.