Herald of Steel

"*Sigh!* You brat..."

Upon hearing the younger nobleman's firm determination to stay and basically sacrifice himself like that, the elder noble could only ruefully shake his head.

It was apparent the former was very dissatisfied with Lord Bakerfield for letting his personal grudges get in the way at such a critical point.

But he did not outright argue with him because the younger nobleman was someone who stuck closely to the army tradition.

And there, it was unthinkable to dismiss your commanding officer's orders outright. It was considered mutiny,

But according to tradition dealing with your rivals during a battle using one's military authority was also considered in very poor taste.

After all, if such a thing were to become prevalent, would the nobles ever be willing to battle with each other? Then the

Which noble family that did not have some kind of friction with other factions. In life, whatever you did, you were bound to piss off someone or another.

Hence the younger man was caught in a dilemma between the two commandments.

Then ultimately unable to choose between the two, he simply decided to rebel against Lord Bakerfield.

While his elder counterpart who sensed it could only internally sigh ruefully at the decision, feeling mournful over losing such an experienced officer.

'Lord Bakerfield is going to tear me a new one when he hears I let the to be husband of his most treasured granddaughter die like this!' He lampooned,

But looking at the man's face and given the time crunch, he did not argue, and only lightly tapped the man's shoulders and agreed with a gentle nod.

"Good! Bernard will indeed need someone to help him hold the lines. He has never done this before."

"Fucking Bakerfield! That old fart! How dare he! I will tear his asshole a new one when I…" One person who did not take his appointment as graciously as the other was Lord Bernard, who upon hearing the suicidal command spun off into a slew of damning curses.

Now, he could understand the military necessity of this order.

It was like a lizard shedding its tail to save his main body. He had no problem in taht.

His only gripe was that Lord Bakerfield had chosen him.

Given he was no military expert, there were many far more qualified men than him.

So this was clearly a political move than a military one, designed to punish him by execution.

Hence Gritting his teeth and waving his arm wildly, Lord Bernard looked as if looks could kill, Lord Bakerfield would likely be killed with his entire generation.

"Right, my lord! You must protest! This is suicide! How dare Lord Bakerfield do this… your father must hear of this!" And his adjutant was very quick to agree, nodding his head like a chicken with righteous indignation.

Although his reaction had far more to do with him being deathly afraid of battle than any real vendetta against Lord Bakerfield or a commentary on the lord's decision.

That adjutant perhaps did not even understand why Lord Bakerfield had made that decision from a military point of view.

But after Ser Robert and Anon had left Lord Bernard, he was left with only the dregs to fulfill the required posts.

So it was only natural that the replacement quality would leave much to be desired.

However, the younger nobleman who had come to personally give Lord Bernard the order informed him of his talks with Lord Bakerfield and added there was no point in protesting.

The decision was final and further talks would only antagonize Lord Bakerfield, even leading to a court martial.

"By military law, he has that right!" Lord Bernard was firmly told.

"Men! Come with them! Let us dye our spears with the blood of these brutes!"

"Soldiers! To think you would run from these barbarians! Are you not ashamed? Are you not children of Galiosos? Come! Take back your land!"

"If we let these black worms win today do you know what will happen to your women and children? They will soon be carrying black bastards! Can you ever stand for this? As a husband, as a father, as a man?"

As the order came from the highest authority, Lord Bernard knew he had to obey, no matter his personal thoughts.

So he and his officers gathered the man and tried their best to sell the command, giving the above speech as a way to prep them.

And while it was unknown what the grassroots men thought about being left as cannon fodder for the rest of the army, at the end of the day none of them complained, some due to a sense of duty, some out of fear of reprisal, some for the sake of their family and some just because they were bought up that way- to always obey their lord.

Hence as the rest of the army journeyed on towards Lord Parker, Lord Bernard and his 3,000 men lunged in the opposite direction like a cornered beast, roaring out with heartfelt malice.

Shields locked and spears pointed outward, they charged in formation toward the attacking Helvati and… it was a bloodbath for the natives.

The fear that Alexander had came true.

Scattered, disorganized, and out of formation, these 'primitive' brutes that were still stuck with outdated military tactics were caught completely off guard by this fierce counterattack and, "Wha… what! What is happening?"

"Aghhhhh! No! Brother!"

"Damn these cunning swine! It was a trick!"

"Shit! No! Don't come! Sto…. ugghhh!"

"Attack! Attack! Enemy atta… mmmm!"

The natives let out surprised and horrific screams, their shouts throwing a much greater part of the army into panic.

Now on paper, Lord Bernard's 3,000 fleeing men should have posed little threat to the 10,000 mad and ferocious Helvati by all means and be nothing more than a stopgap in their path to decimating their most hated enemies.

Yet when steel met steel, the result was completely the opposite.

Properly supported by surrounding soldiers in formation, Lord Bernard and his men were able to pick off all the isolated groups of attackers one by one in a piecemeal fashion.

All those groups of natives that were madly chasing after the retreating Margraves were only now waking up to the dangers they had placed themselves in, finding themselves to be utterly isolated from the rest of the group.

And there were some mad bloodhounds that were yet to wake up even now, yet blindly chasing Lord Bakerfield's main body till now.

These stranglers would be dealt with by the elderly lord once he neared Lord Parker's camp, turning a small part of his force around to destroy those natives down to the last man.

As for the greater mass of scattered Helvati held up by Lord Bernard, they were in full blown panic mode, running and screaming in all directions under the hunt of the agile Margraves.

"Regroup! Regroup! The outsiders are counterattacking! Regroup!"

"To me! Come to me my men! In formation! In formation!"

"Bunch up! You idiots! Run to the nearest formation and bunch up!"

And realizing the danger they were in, some of the native officers and highly renowned warriors tried to rally the troops around them.

These were the men who still had a modicum of sense in them. But the problem was this was far too little and the effect was almost negligible.

The chief problem was that the Helvati were quite primitive in their fighting style and had no real way of communicating with the grassroots soldiers except for a very few simple instructions delivered using drums and trumpets.

But these instructions were only capable of giving very broad instruction to the whole or at best, a very large part of the army, saying things like- charge, retreat, or turn around right or left.

Complex orders such as in the case of Alexander were yet to be viable.

And the only way the Helvati had to give those were by verbally shouting them, and hoping the people around them would pass the message along.

Needless to say, this was far from ideal, as there was no way anyone could hear anyone shouting and giving orders on a battlefield spanning a few kilometers.

The enormous noise and chaos of the place made it hard to even hear the person next to you.

Hence all these shouts asking the natives to restore order and discipline went over their heads, and Lord Bernard tore through his prey like a wolf would through a herd of sheep.

'Haha, I thought I would not get to see the day my father avenge me!' Lord Bernard gloatingly laughed as he led his men through the battlefield, massacring natives by the scores.

Equipped with lighter shields and shorter spears, Lord Bernard's rear guard was showing just why the Margraves dressed themselves like they did- it allowed them to move across their hunting ground at great speed, enabling them to chase and kill their scattered enemy.

And indeed, this was a great way to maximize damaged against the troublesome natives, by first letting them tire themselves out against a solid shield wall and causing them to break, then killing them with fast shock troops before they could escape.

And while the order here might have been a little different, the result was the same.

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