Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 319: Great Raid(3)

Chapter 319: Great Raid(3)

The usual boring plains was this day alive with activity, officers barking orders as their soldiers scrambled into formation. Crisp commands echoed in the cold morning air, blending with the neighing of restless horses and the clatter of armor. Under the watchful eyes of their leaders, imperial archers took position at the front, their quivers bristling with arrows, while disciplined ranks of infantry lined up behind them. At the rear, the cavalry waited in silent readiness, their armored steeds stamping the ground in anticipation.

Mavius rode along the lines, taking in the sight of his army. Though nearly outnumbered two to one, they stood firm and disciplined, their polished armor gleaming in the early light. His force numbered 2,000 infantry, 600 archers, and 250 cataphractarii.

Across the field, the enemy positioned himself. Of the original 6,500 tribesmen, 5,300 remained—still a daunting horde, their ranks a wild mass of uncoordinated warriors. They spread across the land in a loose, sprawling formation, their lack of discipline glaringly apparent. Without any discernible order or command, they were simply an overwhelming tide of bodies, each man armed with whatever he could find.

Mavius observed them closely. His scouts had confirmed that the raiders possessed neither archers nor cavalry, which left them at a critical disadvantage. Mobility and ranged attacks would be key, and the imperial forces held both. His archers would thin the ranks before the infantry engaged, while his cavalry would strike where the enemy was weakest.

Mavius sat atop his horse, his eyes fixed on the chaotic front of the enemy. As the sun climbed higher, he noticed an unusual movement rippling through the tribesmen's ranks. He squinted, leaning slightly forward in his saddle to ensure he was seeing clearly.

"What in the name of the gods…?" he muttered under his breath.

A group of warriors had stepped out from the loosely scattered enemy front line. Stark naked, their bodies gleamed with sweat and war paint as they knelt onto the ground in a row. Behind them, other men began to wave long sticks wildly in the air, chanting and swaying as if caught in some strange frenzy.