Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

[Great Wilderness]

A force of over a thousand riders, accompanied by three times their number in mounts, was divided into six squadrons. Each squadron's horses matched the scale of a small herd from a Hurd tribe.

After a torrential downpour, the wasteland on the West Bank of the Big Horn River, scorched to ash, once again grew lush and verdant.

The six squadrons moved forward in parallel like six torrents, coursing over the black wasteland speckled with pale green.

Squadrons couldn't directly see one another; only the distant plumes of dust kicked up by galloping hooves affirmed the presence of allies.

Within the torrent, Winters witnessed casualties unfolding time and again: some warhorses stumbled after stepping into rodent burrows; riders fell off their mounts through sheer exhaustion.

His heart bled, yet he couldn't reach out to help—the riders who lagged behind had to wait alone in the wasteland for the recovery squad to arrive.

The torrent must not stop; it could only press forward.

At the junction of the wasteland and the Terdun territory, the Iron Peak County light cavalry squadrons rendezvoused with the guides and horse herds from Tie Chi's camp. They switched out mounts that were near their limits and continued westward without stopping.

This wasn't a Paratu-style hammer strike; it was a Hurd-style lightning raid.

Its core objective was not to slay enemy forces—

but to sever the snake's head.

...

The nomadic tribes' mode of production dictated that they couldn't gather large populations and herds together for extended periods.

Grass, as a resource, was distributed almost uniformly across the prairie. For their livestock to thrive, tribes had to make full use of the available grassland.

Moreover, excessively large herds would quickly consume the grass around a dwelling area, and there were fixed limits to how far horses, cattle, and sheep could graze. Even moving camp daily, they couldn't travel too far.

Thus, even the largest of tribes had to remain dispersed into individual families on ordinary days. In this way, maintaining a standing army on the wasteland would become prohibitively expensive.

During peacetime, therefore, a tribe's royal tent could only sustain a very limited permanent military power, leaving the rulers of various tribes frequently vulnerable to attacks.

For this reason, most conflicts among Hurd tribes revolved around raids targeting a rival tribe's royal tent and often culminated with the assassination of the opposing tribe's chief.

Large-scale battles fought openly with drawn swords were, in comparison, rare.

For the Hurds, who lived dispersed and followed water and grass, the royal tent was their weakest, most fatal, and most easily exploited vulnerability.

...

A skilled swordsman always launches an attack from where the enemy least expects it. To gain the element of surprise, two factors are paramount: stealth and speed.

According to the battle plan devised by Winters, Tie Chi's tribe would be responsible for luring the enemy.

At the banks of the Ashen Stream River, Winters bluntly told Tie Chi's son, "I don't care what methods your father uses; he must fully capture Red Flame's attention."

"I will personally lead troops on a concealed raid from another direction." He traced a shallow curve along the base of the Golden Summit Mountains on the map and firmly stabbed a dagger at the endpoint: "Sever the snake's head!"

To pursue speed beyond limits, all cavalry participating in the raid were equipped as lightly as possible.

Blankets, horse coverings, silver-plated scabbards, brass belt buckles—anything that could reduce weight was stripped away; all decorative items were left behind.

Each raiding cavalryman carried only a pouch of dried meat and a skin of fermented mare's milk for provisions. If they failed to seize supplies from the enemy, they would starve and perish of thirst on the wasteland.

During personnel selection, every candidate was informed frankly that this was a mission of no return, where failure was not an option for survival. Should they fall behind, rescue would be their only hope amid the boundless wasteland.

Yet not a single candidate backed down—for this was a battle that had to be fought.

...

At present, Winters' fledgling regime seemed to be thriving. In truth, however, the nascent Iron Peak County Government was teetering on a cliff's edge.

Externally, the Maplestone City incident had ignited imminent warfare between the Red Rose faction and the local forces of the New Reclamation Legion. While both sides were currently trying to court Iron Peak County, this was purely circumstantial. Winters had no doubt that, given the opportunity, they would ruthlessly suppress the "rebels."

Internally, Iron Peak County was equally uneasy. Though the decisive victory in the Battle of Blood Mud granted Winters temporary and undisputed authority, it was far from earning genuine public support. People were following his rule out of inertia alone; if one day Red Rose "reclaimed" Iron Peak County, they would yield to Red Rose's authority just as readily.

Not to mention the Machiavellian Shovel Port mayor Botar, who outwardly obeyed Revodan's decrees but was secretly consolidating scattered bandits and scheming treachery.

Nonetheless, compared to the tangled affairs of the Newly Reclaimed Land, the threats emerging from the wasteland pricked Winters like thorns.

Terdun Tribe's Khan Court had suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Blood Mud, including the death of the Roaster himself, yet the Terdun Tribe had not been annihilated.

A lion had died, but from its corpse, a pack of starving wolves and vultures had emerged.

Tie Chi should have been responsible for subduing the wolves and vultures, but the devastating defeat in the Battle of Blood Mud had equally stripped away much of Tie Chi's strength.