Chapter 457: Chapter 71: The Reason for the Decisive Battle_3
“Yahachi! Yahachi!” the Herders outside the wall began to chant in unison.
“Yahachi?” Colonel Bod grabbed a clump of withered grass and wiped his palms before casually asking the Translator beside him, “What does it an? Is it the enemy commander’s na?”
Dannel—the forr rchant, now Translator, and bilingual talent conscripted into the army—answered with a mournful face: “Yahachi probably ans ‘young lion.’ [Hachi] stands for a child, [Ya] is lion, just as Yasin is White Lion. As for whether it’s the na of the enemy commander, I have no idea.”
“Young lion?” Colonel Bod raised an eyebrow, “Could it be the brother of the Barbarian Chief Yasin? But I’ve never heard that he had a brother…”
The sound of horns rang out, and the Herders outside began to advance towards the camp.
Colonel Bod waved his hand.
...
The military flag fluttered as the Paratu gunners ascended the wall of the encampnt, each selecting their position, setting up their muskets, and hanging their matches on the serpentine.
The Herders advanced to one hundred ters.
The drumrs began to beat a rapid rhythm. The gunners gently blew into the glowing embers of their matches, then flipped open the lids of their powder pans.
Everyone held their breath and focused, waiting for the sound of gunfire to declare the beginning of that day’s slaughter.
Suddenly, a series of urgent gong sounds ca from the outside.
The Herders, who had surged in like a tide, retreated just like the receding sea.
The Paratu People looked at each other in confusion, feeling utterly perplexed.
“Have everyone close their powder pan covers,” Colonel Bod ordered the signaler.
There were commands for horns, flags, and drum beats, but none for “close the powder pan covers.”
The signaler received the order and ran around the walls in a circle, passing the ssage along.
“Look to the west!” soone exclaid, “What is that?”
“Silence in the face of battle! Shut up!” an instant rebuke ca from a soldier.
But still, everyone couldn’t help but turn their gaze to the west, where it seed as if a forest was approaching the north encampnt.
A large army erged from the mist, a real, substantial force.
The flag bearer on a white horse held the eagle flag high, leading at the very front of the column.
Behind him, row after row of piken erged from the mist with no end in sight.
The neat rows of long pikes, moving slowly to the beat of the drums, were like a forest swaying in the wind.
“The eagle flag! Reinforcents!” shouted an excited soldier from the northern fortress, “The reinforcents are here!”
Only a legion had the eagle flag. Its presence on the field ant the legion commander had co to the battlefield personally.
This ti, no one stopped the rash soldier from shouting because everyone was cheering with all their might.
The Red River Tribe began to act as well. They retreated slightly but didn’t leave the battlefield.
They rely adjusted their direction, avoiding the position of being caught in a pincer attack, and turned their formation to face the newly arrived Paratu legion.
More than a thousand cavalry left the main formation of the Red River Tribe and maneuvered towards the flank of the Paratu legion.
Under the scrutiny of friend and foe alike, the newly arrived Paratu army unfolded their formation with a graceful movent.
The mist gradually cleared, revealing the wilderness, the Confluence River, and Bianli across the river, all becoming progressively more visible.
Before everyone’s eyes stood four perfect square formations of a thousand n each, lined up in a row.
The Paratu army did not enter the encampnt but ford their ranks on the wilderness as if inviting the Red River Tribe to battle from afar.
As the mist lifted, Colonel Bod’s heart tightened all at once.
The number of reinforcents was much smaller than he’d imagined, a rough count suggesting no more than four thousand n, or eight battalions.
“What is the old man doing?” Colonel Bod couldn’t help but kick the wall fiercely, shouting to the signaler, “Tell all the Centurions to prepare to charge.”
The Red River Tribe’s cavalry held at least twice as many numbers. Despite sending out so of their cavalry to flank both sides, the main formation showed no significant movent, leaving their intentions unclear.
anwhile, the Paratu square formations just stood there, as if certain the Herders would attack.
“Boom!”
“Boom!”
Those were cannon sounds, but they were quite deep, likely coming from afar.
Colonel Bod surveyed his surroundings and saw smoke rising from behind Bianli City.
The white smoke quickly turned black, and thick plus bellied up from Bianli, piercing the sky.
Colonel Bod’s pupils dilated as he widened his eyes in shock, “Has the old man gone mad?”
At this mont, in West Guard City.
The six infantry battalions that were besieging the city had started to hurl iron rings and wooden blocks coated with tar, resin, and licorice into the inner city using makeshift catapults.
This was an inspiration the Paratu People got from the massive fire the Herders themselves had started—the outskirts were made of wooden walls with thatched roofs, and the inner city likely wasn’t much different.
Since it was a dry winter with the west wind blowing towards the inner city, all that was missing was a spark.
Along with the makeshift catapults, they also brought out cannons, battering rams, and “gunpowder coffins.”
It seed the Paratu army was determined to breach Bianli in one fell swoop.
Sekler had already set the chessboard, patiently waiting for the White Lion Yasin to make his move.
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