"General Daimon, it’s up to you now." Marin looked at Daimon.
Ever since the great fire yesterday, Marin had been deeply concerned. The army’s formation had beco scattered while breaking through the flas, and the entire vanguard was now cut off from the main force.
Though Marin didn’t know if the enemy would take advantage of the chaos to attack, if it were up to him, he would definitely make a move.
Rather than wait for the enemy to act, it was better to make his own preparations.
Though Daimon commanded just over a thousand Centaurs, they could at least delay a human surprise attack for a ti.
The entire vanguard had spent all of last night fighting the fire and was now exhausted. In truth, the sa could be said for the whole army. Everyone needed ti to rest.
"Don’t worry. If those humans dare to co, I’ll use their skulls as bowls!" Daimon said viciously.
These past few days, Daimon had been constantly replaying that night’s engagent. Playing the armchair general, the more he thought about it, the angrier he beca.
He felt he had been completely deceived by that stupid bear in the camp, plus that damned Gnoll.
Otherwise, how could his elite Centaur unit have suffered such heavy losses?
Watching Marin’s retreating figure, Daimon’s second-in-command grew restless.
"General, the n’s old wounds haven’t healed, and we just suffered a defeat...
"We didn’t rest well last night either. I’m afraid now is not a good ti to fight again..."
"You think I don’t know that? That sly fox is dead set on using as a pawn.
His Highness never specified a hierarchy for this expedition. When the ti cos to fight, of course I will fight.
But if things go south... he can pray for his own damn luck," Daimon said.
He knew exactly what Marin was plotting, but he didn’t care.
For Daimon, things couldn’t get any worse. If he returned now, his political future would be over.
If he stayed on the front lines and failed, his political future would be over anyway—and maybe he could drag Marin down with him.
There was no clear hierarchy between the two of them. Marin was the de facto leader now only because Daimon had lost most of his troops and thus had no say in the matter.
In reality, Daimon could just ignore Marin completely.
....
The nobles of Qimo Fortress couldn’t exactly be called united, but since Robson took command, his firm hand had ensured that his orders were generally obeyed.
Robson was now slowly extending the militarized lifestyle from his own army to the entire Qimo Fortress.
Although these noble lords seed unreliable now, they had all undergone formal military training in their youth. It was just that a long life of ease had slowly eroded those habits.
After all, on the border, they were no longer the sons of Barons, nor were they being taught by so Earl Clan or the kingdom’s Knight Commander.
Nobles, of course, had a noble’s way of life.
Although everyone had been resentful at first, Robson led by example, which greatly reduced the discontent.
Moreover, in the days since Robson had arrived at Qimo Fortress, they had discovered they could skim off military glory for themselves with almost no cost.
Soldiers killed in action? Unheard of. Even if they had wanted their own n on the battlefield, Robson wouldn’t have given those Peasants a second glance.
The only price they had to pay was their own brute strength, and even then, it just ant charging alongside everyone else.
In the last battle, not a single noble from Qimo Fortress had been hard; even minor injuries were rare.
So, everyone slowly grew accustod to resuming a military lifestyle.
So much so that when Emil finished assembling his Knight Team and saw the army at the city gate—banners already fluttering, ranks neat and orderly—his expression was one of slight bewildernt.
’When did these people beco so diligent?’
"Emil Knight, you’re here. This is the position for your Knight Order," Robson said with a smile.
Emil followed Robson’s gesture, which pointed to the very front of the entire cavalry force.
It made sense. Both the nobles of Qimo Fortress and the Extraordinary Knights of the Knight Order were, at a minimum, fully armored Heavy Cavalry. Even their horses wore barding. Consequently, their mounts were of the highest quality—case in point, Emil’s own.
It was a Tier Three Cyan Wolf. Back then, even the Fengman Clan had helped ta the beast.
"I’m late. My apologies, Sir." Emil’s cheeks flushed slightly, looking quite embarrassed.
To be honest, before arriving, he had carried so of the arrogance of a professional soldier.
After all, unlike the other nobles, they were true soldiers, constantly undergoing formal military training.
The other nobles, at best, rely reviewed their training now and then. So of the more ridiculous ones would just arm their n with bamboo poles and send them to the battlefield.
He never expected that he, who prided himself on being among the elite, would be so thoroughly humbled.
For now, at least, he reined in his arrogance.
"You’re not that late. In fact, we’re still waiting on so other units," Robson said.
’Other units?’ Emil was montarily confused. Raids were generally cavalry-focused. With nearly all the fortress’s cavalry gathered here, who else could there be?
Just as Emil was puzzling over this, the neighing of spirited horses broke the silence, and three carriages approached from the east.
Following the carriages were the three Magic Crystal Cannon teams from before, as well as a group of Mages in Mage Robes.
’Magic Crystal Cannons?’ Emil found it hard to understand. He could see how Mages would add Extraordinary power, but he really didn’t get the point of the cannons.
Of course he wouldn’t understand. This was knowledge Robson had brought from his past life.
Magic Crystal Cannons had always been used as Fortress Cannons. Uneven ground couldn’t support their massive fras, and even on flat ground, the powerful recoil would make the very earth tremble.
But in truth, you only needed to bring a few Mages along to solve this problem, turning the Fortress Cannons into field artillery.
It was simply a matter of a different approach, not sothing that required any great technical skill.
It was like how nomadic peoples went thousands of years without inventing a ga-changer like the stirrup.
The main reason was that for the past hundred years, things like the Magic Crystal Cannon had been shelved by the Dwarves. Although Dwarves were not exactly peace-loving creatures, they rarely participated in wars.
It wasn’t until the Gray Dwarves rebelled and ca into conflict with the Copperbeard Dwarves, Highland Dwarves, and Forest Dwarves of the eastern mountains that much of this Magic Technology was revealed to the entire continent for the first ti.
At the ti, all the races, including the elves, were amazed by the Dwarves’ fantastic ingenuity.
And it was then that humans learned a few of the superficial tricks, once again solidifying their dominant position.
"Sos reporting, my lord!" The gunner Sos was wearing white gloves. Though his spirits were high, it was clear he was still physically weak.
"A brave warrior always ensures he gets his sleep," Robson nodded.
He believed that once this strategy of his was revealed, it would surely bring so new color to the world.
When the Magic Crystal Cannon let out its first roar on the plains, the peoples of the horse might just start to seriously study the charm of art.
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