The cavalry indeed began to move, but it wasn’t Li Fusheng’s vanguard unit that initiated. Instead, two cavalry units on either side of the vanguard, totaling over 6,000 horsen, began to accelerate.
For cavalry, battlefield distance is crucial. Horses require sufficient space to build up speed.
Cavalry unable to build up a charge are re sitting ducks.
Ancient war films often depicted mass cavalry charges followed by soldiers fighting with swords from horseback, purely for dramatic effect.
In reality, the most effective use of cavalry lies in their speed and the terrifying impact it creates. Typically, the correct way to employ cavalry was to pull the troops back after an initial charge, allow them to briefly reorganize, and then launch a new wave of attacks. This process would be repeated several tis.
It was like squeezing a tube of toothpaste, employing every thod to extract the very last bit for one final brushing.
However, this feat could only be achieved by extrely high-quality cavalry units. Units lacking discipline, organization, or with substandard horses and riders, might scatter like an egg smashed against a wall after a single charge, with no hope of regrouping.
Having witnessed the capabilities of the North Guard Army firsthand, Zheng Fan was not worried. The cavalry on both flanks had started moving, while the central army under Zheng Fan remained stationary.
Chief Zheng, being a mature adult, didn’t act like the perpetually boyish Liang Cheng, who would always rush to the forefront with his lance, eager for so excitent.
Therefore, Chief Zheng remained there to ticulously "oversee the grand sche of things."
The cavalry on each flank, numbering over 3,000, launched a diagonal charge directly at the enemy’s foremost formation.
This was the most "elite" formation within the Qian army.
The Zu family army, renowned in Qian for its military discipline and formations, was a newly risen force that had already forged its prestige and confidence. However, as they faced this torrent of iron hooves, panic gripped every soldier.
Sea pirates, no matter how nurous or powerful, could never muster such an imposing cavalry formation!
"Pikes, down!"
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!!!
The front-rank piken knelt, their long pikes angled upwards, the butts planted firmly on the ground. They ford a bulwark of flesh and blood, their pikes like thorns, to halt the charging iron cavalry.
The piken in the rear ranks braced their long pikes under their right arms, using their left hands to steady and aim them, spearheads pointing forward.
The dense forest of spearheads ford the army’s outer shell—a carapace bristling with sharp points.
Yet, many among them found their hands and feet trembling.
The oppressive force of a cavalry charge was akin to a modern person facing a motorcycle speeding directly at them—who wouldn’t be terrified?
We’re all human, living, breathing beings! Who would want to die just like that?
But they knew that as the outermost layer of the formation, their chances of surviving a major battle were exceedingly slim.
This was especially true for the front-rank piken. Even if their pikes could impale the enemy’s warhorses or unseat their riders, the terrifying montum of the charging steeds could still send them flying. To die instantly from such an impact would be a rcy; the true horror was surviving with countless broken bones, yet still clinging to breath.
For those in such a state, every extra mont they clung to life was another mont of tornt.
"Axe soldiers!!!"
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
The axe soldiers took their positions behind the shield bearers. After the initial clash, they would quickly move out from behind the shields to engage the enemy. Their role was to surge forward and cut down the cavalry once their fellow piken at the front had blunted the enemy’s charge.
Behind the shield bearers were the archers and crossbown, who, in fact, provided the formation’s true offensive firepower.
Zu Zhuming hailed from a military family, albeit an impoverished one. Ultimately, the Zu family’s prosperity was attributable to Zu Zhuming’s personal abilities, aided significantly by the thousands of sea pirate heads from the southeast that had paved their path to prominence over the years.
He was a man adept at studying war and delving into its intricacies. When the Imperial Edict was issued, ordering the Zu family army north, Zu Zhuming had already begun contemplating thods for infantry to overco cavalry.
No, to be precise, for over a hundred years, this was a common preoccupation. Any general of the Qian State with lingering passion and ambition would spend nights lost in thought, pondering how to counter the onslaught of the Yan people’s cavalry.
The defeat from a century prior was an enduring wound in the hearts of the Qian people. While many dreaded another northern expedition, even more yearned for its success.
Zu Dongcheng sat mounted on his horse, relaying orders through the ssengers at his side.
Battlefield dynamics shifted in the blink of an eye. A general served as the army’s brain; only under the brain’s direction could the body execute corresponding actions.
However, problems could arise with this coordination. Perhaps the general was too diocre to make correct and tily decisions, or perhaps the quality of the soldiers was lacking. Even a genius, if physically impaired, would struggle to perform demanding tasks effectively.
This highlighted the crucial need for cohesion between a commander and his subordinates.
Years ago, to consolidate military power, the founding emperor of the Qian State implented national policies to reinforce the Imperial Guards with elite troops from various armies. In that era, the Imperial Guards of the Qian State constituted the most formidable military force in the entire nation.
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