Herald of Steel

The Jahal mercenaries for their credit did not break rank and run after facing Grahtos.

Instead, when they saw they had no way to counter the new weapon and their center was vulnerable, they deemed it unwise to continue to fight here and needlessly rack up casualties.

So they simply chose to disengage and retreat.

And the difference between a retreat and a rout was in full display them.

For while a rout was a disorganized and chaotic escape from the battlefield, a retreat was an orderly withdrawal, as evidenced by how the various units calmly turned left or right in full formation, so as to not give Grahtos any chance to hunt them down, before getting out of Grahtos’s strike range.

And seeing them scatter, Grahtos let it happen without interference, for he had no intention to chase such a huge enemy anyway.

He was just relieved to chase them off and secure his left flank.

And so from afar Grahtos with a placid face saw the remaining mercenary forces slowly regroup themselves in an open space some distance away, where they tended to their wounded and reorganized their tattered command.

The Jahal mercenaries had lost a lot of their officers and even their leader in the preceding attack and so they would need some time to restructure their forces before they were ready to launch an attack again.

And they fully intended to attack again, for they were not out of the fight yet.

Not by a long shot.

After all, in their mind they had to avenge their leader and all the dead 500 before they could even think about resting.

And thus, they prepared themselves for the next wave, and Grahtos, who was watching them regroup was sure they would join the battle again.

But it was not as if the mercenaries were the only ones who were regrouping.

Many of Grahtos’s men were also licking their wounds and resting themselves for another attack.

They did this because many had suffered internal injuries such as fractures and broken bones from the previous charge, and even many of their horses were seen limping along the ground in pain and discomfort.

These horses had suffered as much as the men, and maybe even more, as the last collision with the much bigger and heavier camels had taken a lot from these beasts.

Most probably those in the front had broken their ribs sounding by the groans and pants coming out of them.

Thus both sides were trying to utilize this time to rest and recover.

But the cavalry commander did not have the luxury to watch half the Jahal mercenaries rest and recuperate as he did the same, for a herald suddenly came running to him, panting and saying in an alarmed voice, “Commander! The enemy is attacking our lord to the right! Please send help! Quick!”

This messenger had been displaced by the 5th legion commander, Remus, who was chosen by Menes to lead this unit.

“What!” Grahtos’s heart almost leaped out as he screamed this, before turning his head back to see the situation for himself

And from his vantage point atop his horse, he could clearly see Alexander’s men engaging the enemy on the opposite side of the battlefield, while presumably the lord himself, in his eye-catching steed stood with his bodyguards a bit further back, lowering his lance and as if readying himself for a charge.

Grahtos further noticed the two battalion contingent slowly make their way towards, which, though the men were marching as fast as he could, to Grahtos seemed like they were walking at a snail’s pace.

‘Dammmit!” He cursed venomously before blowing on a short trumpet, signaling the 1,500 men to rally towards him.

He had to go to Alexander’s rescue as soon as possible.

Because without Alexander, they had no one to hold them together, for it was the young man that acted as the glue for all of them.

When the men resting and recuperating themselves heard the trumpet call, ‘What! Is it another attack?’ they all dreaded the thought as their instinctive reaction.

None of them were ready for another fight right now.

Not them, nor their horses, as evidenced by how many of the beasts were seen panting with their tongues out.

And Grahtos knew this, because he himself was suffering from the exact disabilities, and he even had a stinging pain in his chest caused by a glancing spear thrust that had missed.

But he knew he had no other choice.

Alexander could not die or be captured under any circumstances.

“Men! Look to the right! Lord Alexander is being attacked! And he needs reinforcements!” Grahtos thus shouted to inspire the men to his cause.

And it worked as hearing this, the men felt almost a kind of supernatural power course through them, as they moved with great haste and purpose, seeming as if their bodies were set on fire with zeal and purpose.

For in the distance they could clearly see their vastly outnumbered comrades fighting gallantly, but nevertheless being overwhelmed.

And if they did not receive help soon, it was likely they would break, or worse, their lord might get killed or captured.

This could not be allowed to happen, hence, even when their horses were exhausted to the point they would barely gallop, the men still decided to push them past their limits.

Thus soon, the 1,000 men had formed a solid charging line and were ready to charge.

But why 1,000, and not 1,500?

It was because of this exchange between Grahtos and Laykash.

The former instructed the latter, “Laykash, you stay behind with the 500 light cavalry. Have them protect the flanks of the 5th legion in case the Jahal mercenaries try anything again. I will be back soon.”

As he said this, instead of galloping off, the commander gripped the young man’s hand to again emphasize his point, “You must hold on till I come back!”

He had bloodshot eyes as he said this.

This was because Grahtos was well aware of the challenge Laykash would have if he faced the experienced cavalry unit using these green infantry on horseback.

And could only hope that the enemy did not recover so quickly and that the 5th legion had enough nerve to hold on against their charges if it did occur.

Within the time Grahtos had finished giving out these orders, the soldiers were ready to go and all were waiting for Grahtos to give them the order to gallop.

“Charge! Charge as fast as you can!” And without further ado came the order, as the 1,000 men tried to cover the one-and-a-half kilometer (1.5km) as fast as possible, while also navigating through the prisoner who lay prone in the middle of the inner battlefield.

And while these tired men with their limping horses, and only one lance strove to reinforce their lord, Alexander was about to start his second charge.

The 500 green troops would not be able to hold on till Grahtos got here.

“*Arghhh*,”

So came the familiar murderous roar from the hundred men, before there was produced the thundering stamps of the horses, whose heavy strikes turned the solid, dry ground into mud, and the men riding these beasts who moved like the gale of a hurricane charged at the right flank of the enemy, one who was engaging one of Alexander’s units from the side.

And when these men felt the earth shake and saw the charge of the 100 men coming to reap their lives,

‘Run!’ ｂ𝚍ｎｏ𝚟ｌ.

That was the only word uttered.

No one knew who that ‘brave’ man was to speak this frank word.

But it did not matter.

Because this one syllable word was enough to turn a solid 100 men cavalry unit into vapor mist that vanished into thin air momentarily later.

Menaing they ran.

And when this unit ran, it exposed the unit behind it to Alexander’s wrathful lance.

Who then too ran.

And honestly who could blame them?

What were they doing to do anyway?

Stand still and die?

Sure, if they were crazed fanatics who viewed their death as a way to disarm Alexander by destroying his last lance, and then deliver ultimate victory, then sure, they might as well have stood and died.

And if that happened, there was indeed a good chance of Alexander dying or being captured before Grahtos or the infantry would come to their rescue.

After all, the enemy was a lot here.

But fortunately for Alexander, and unfortunately for Faruq, Ural’s cavalry were not such fanatics.

All the men were from privileged positions, and they all valued their lives very much.

The cavalry unit consisted of either nobles, or heirs of noble houses who came here to accumulate military credit, brothers and cousins and distant relatives of such people, sons of nobles who had no realistic chance at the family head position and wanted to try their luck in the battle, nobles who had fallen in hard times and wanted to gain wealth and fame in battle, and many such similar ambitious, opportunistic people.

They were very well trained, but not the most disciplined bunch, especially in the face of large casualties.

And since they had already lost 100 of them on the first charge, these men did not fancy trying their luck against Alexander’s lances.

Thus, they ran, and like how rats are able to sense a ship sinking and jump overboard, once Ural’s right flank became exposed, the remaining men saw no point in resisting.

A rout was initiated.