“What? He said I get to choose the weapon, time, and place of the duel, didn’t he? I chose to do it then and there, and surprise is a valid choice of weapon!” - Urgrim “Ravager” van Drell, Mercenary turned noble, during an investigation following the death of Baron Caro Soverson from a sudden attack by Baronet van Drell.
“Everybody in place? Excellent,” praised Reinhardt as he led his own platoon to the edge of the forest – still deep enough to not be easily noticeable from outside – and saw that the others had already arranged their platoons in formation. The archers already climbed the trees and sought after sturdy branches to serve as their perch, while the rest prepared themselves for a rapid and brutal assault as was planned.
It only took them around fifteen minutes to finish their deployment, results from constant practice and training showing itself, and the situation on the battlefield had yet to change in that short period of time, the enemy commander they aimed for still engaged with the southernmost section of the first line of defense, their attention focused in that direction.
They didn’t even have the slightest idea that they had been targeted by the mercenaries not a thousand paces away from their position.
Reinhardt was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he gave the signal to attack shortly after, and the forest seemed to boil as the mercenaries rushed out from its northern side. Their appearance and assault was so sudden and unexpected that the enemy troops on the right flank, the ones they struck first, had no idea of their presence until the mercenaries were literally already right next to them.
While the forest’s terrain meant that the mercenaries couldn’t form tight formations while they traversed the woods, they had trained for it and immediately went into formation as practiced the moment they left the forest, a mere few steps from the surprised faces of the enemy soldiers nearest to the forest. To those enemy soldiers, all they heard was some ruckus in the woods followed by the sudden appearance of a wall of steel to their side, for that was pretty much what the shieldbearers of the strike platoons looked like when they were on the move: A wall of steel, their shields overlapping one another’s.
Without preamble, the shieldbearers pushed into the sides of the enemy formation, relying entirely on their bulk and momentum to shove aside the enemy soldiers as if they were petulant children. Caught off guard, the enemy soldiers failed to react in time and made the shieldbearers’ task easier, and they managed to push over half of the five hundred paces distance to their target.
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Said target noticed the sudden assault and ordered a part of their soldiers to turn towards the Free Lances before they tried to turn their horse and get some distance, but an arrow suddenly pierced into the flank of the horse they rode on, causing the horse to buck in pain and hurl its rider straight to the ground. Meanwhile, more arrows suddenly flew out from the forest and struck the soldiers at the sides who were trying to respond to the assault.
The Free Lances only had a little over two hundred archers in total, but most of them had been trained to shoot rapidly, often loosing a third arrow before the first had even landed. As a result, the barrage of arrows they loosed gave the illusion as if there were a thousand archers in the forest, which further deterred their foes.
Even while loosing their arrows so rapidly, their accuracy remained good, and the arrows accurately went for the enemy soldiers at the sides who were starting to push against the flanks of the mercenary formation. Some of the mercenaries had already turned to the side to deal with these soldiers as well, and they held their ground firmly while continuing their advance under the support of the archers.
Meanwhile, the shieldbearers of the strike platoons had given way to the actual shock troops behind them, and they in turn made their presence known, their forceful advance mostly reliant on brute force and incredible violence as they carved a path through their enemies. Like usual, the platoon leaders personally led the advance themselves.
Mischka used her large blade, every swing maiming, crushing, and dismembering several enemy soldiers at a time as she used her bulk to directly push through the crowd of enemies. What enemy soldiers managed to maintain their composure and strike back found their spears impotent against the thick armor she wore, those that struck at her forcefully only managing to dent their spearheads or break their spears in twain.
Grünhildr wielded her pair of weapons clad in layers of void and went on a rampage to the point that even her platoon members had to struggle to catch up to her. The way the void-covered weapons simply sliced through everything in its way, be it weapons, armor, bones, or flesh, quickly intimidated the enemy soldiers who unwittingly started to back away from the rampaging woman. Her subordinates chased after her while walking through the trail of carnage she left behind in her wake.
On the right flank, Zyd and Arne worked together and led the advance. Their push wasn’t as forceful as Mischka’s or as violent as Grünhildr’s, but they maintained a stable, steady pace regardless. Zyd wore a suit of heavy armor tailored to his large body and blocked the enemy attacks with his shield, his steel cudgel crushing what enemies dared to get too close, while Arne calmly used his billhook to push, pull, pierce, and slice the enemies from behind him, the two working together smoothly and fluently out of years of experience.
While Mischka’s push was spread over a broader area and focused on crushing the enemies before them, Grünhildr, Zyd, and Arne focused on advancing past their target’s position before they turned to meet each other, effectively cutting off any escape route the target might have had. Once they had done so, they turned to face the incoming enemies and held their ground.