Chapter 109: The Shield Formation of the Riverbend Infantry!

The heavy javelins of the Riverbend infantry have long since been upgraded, replacing the inconsistent short spears of the kobolds. Once the smithy gained the capability to smelt iron and cast ingots, it also established the foundation for mold casting. Although the quality of the molten iron is not yet high enough to forge slender swords, it is at least sufficient for producing farm tools and iron spearheads.

The heavy javelins now used by the Riverbend infantry are mass-produced by the smithy, characterized by simple construction and standardized specifications. Lacking in refined quality, they compensate with sheer weight; like all other infantry gear, these javelins prioritize "heaviness," emphasizing a crushing, unstoppable force. A one-foot-long iron spearhead combined with a two-foot hardwood shaft results in a weapon weighing three kilograms. Well-trained Riverbend infantry can easily hurl them over forty meters and maintain pinpoint accuracy within a twenty-meter range. Three such heavy javelins are enough to provide devastating firepower before a melee begins, inflicting crushing blows upon the opposition. Some infantrymen, skilled with short spears, even use them as one-handed melee weapons. After all, when hiding behind a shield wall, anything with a sharp point is useful. Even the kobold royal guards quickly adopted these new javelins, using them to supplement their crossbows. Fisa, always eager to learn, would never let such a good thing pass her by.

The javelin volleys of the Riverbend infantry are more powerful than the longbows of the wildlings; a rain of spears leaves everyone struck dead on the spot. Even gnoll barbarians holding shields are not spared, as their crude wooden shields lack the iron reinforcements to withstand such force, shattering instantly against the heavy, momentum-driven javelins. Moreover, if the first spear does not kill, a second one follows. After two volleys, fewer than thirty gnolls remain capable of reaching close quarters.

Experienced veterans brace themselves a split second before a gnoll’s weapon strikes, bracing their arms, elbows, or shoulders against the back of their shields to protect their relatively fragile wrists, effectively disrupting the enemy’s attack trajectory or even halting it entirely. Despite the heavy shields suffering repeated impacts from gnoll flails and even developing cracks, the infantrymen behind them remain unscathed, their combat effectiveness undiminished. The broad-backed, wide-bladed iron swords held in the infantrymen's right hands strike out from the edge of their round shields at the most cunning angles, twisting violently before being withdrawn.

By the time the gnolls realize what has happened, their intestines and viscera are already spilling onto the ground, trampled underfoot by the soldiers. The battle reaches a fever pitch; the gnolls, despite their ferocity and brutality, achieve nothing, crowding and trampling over one another as they hack fruitlessly at the infantry’s shield wall. The formation remains unbroken, and the bodies of the enemy begin to pile up before them. Some veterans even chat while fighting, discussing what rewards they might receive upon returning. Having survived numerous battles and countless drills, this level of combat no longer stirs their blood.

When war turns into target practice, the effectiveness of the Basaka longbowmen multiplies. With the targets nearly static, even the most nervous wildling girls can hit them with ease. The battle ends as swiftly as a one-sided slaughter. When the last gnoll falls, the Riverbend infantry regiment has suffered only one death and ten wounded of varying degrees. The Basaka longbowmen sustain zero casualties, each having used only half a quiver of arrows.

The soldier who died was simply unlucky; after stabbing a gnoll, he lowered his shield to peek out, only for another gnoll barbarian to seize the opportunity and swing a flail, shattering his skull and killing him instantly. The wounded fared much better; the most severely injured was positioned on the flank of the shield wall and caught a flail strike to the shoulder after a gnoll managed to circle behind him, leaving him coughing up blood on a stretcher. However, seeing him swearing while he coughed, he would likely survive.

Despite the minimal casualties, Vice Commander Vich is dissatisfied, grabbing several infantrymen to scold them for their subpar performance on the battlefield. These soldiers had been overly aggressive during the fight, attempting to break the shield wall to strike the enemy, forcing their comrades to scramble to keep up and causing the entire formation to advance several steps. Had the gnolls been more competent, these lapses could have provided the opening they needed to break through. The soldiers, usually the bravest in battle, shrink away like kobold pups under the scolding of Vich, who is even younger than they are, not daring to offer a single word of rebuttal. Vich is only calmly berating them; if it were Leo, he would be whipping them to death. If it were Ulyan, he would be even harsher: "Very well, your land allotment is gone." By Ulyan’s standards, the movement of a battle formation must come solely from the commander’s orders; unauthorized movement is treated as desertion.

Magna watches from the sidelines, completely bewildered. Since when is showing bravery a cause for reprimand? Among the wildlings, those who charge first are showered with praise by their leaders and hailed as heroes by their kin. By the end of the battle, the Basaka longbowmen had accounted for eighty percent of the gnoll kills, while the Riverbend infantry had claimed few. Their shield wall offers formidable defense, but it is slow-moving, and the gnolls can simply step back to avoid the infantry’s reach.

However, the gnolls cannot escape the precise sniping of the Basaka longbowmen. With the Riverbend infantry pinning the enemy down, the safety of the longbowmen is greatly enhanced. Some daring archers even close to within dozens of meters of the battlefield, firing at point-blank range from the flanks of the shield wall. At this distance, the margin of error for a Basaka archer is less than three centimeters, and master hunters can even hit targets while firing past the infantry’s very scalps. The infantry, while in their defensive state, can hear the heavy arrows whistling past their ears to pierce the gnolls standing right before them. The infantrymen express their appreciation for the archers' skill, but advise them against doing it again.

The spoils of this ambush are meager, consisting only of some animal hides and weapons. This gnoll hunting party had not been out long and had yet to find prey, never expecting to become the prey themselves. Having witnessed the elite prowess of the Riverbend infantry, Magna is thoroughly convinced. These heavy-armored, slow-moving, and seemingly clumsy Riverbend infantry have redefined his understanding of war.

Combat is not just about the kill count; it is about the kill-to-loss ratio. Wildlings excel in small-scale skirmishes of under thirty people; beyond that, they lose coordination and descend into individual brawls in the heat of battle. The longer the fight lasts, the faster the casualties mount. In essence, they remain at the level of hunting, lacking true military training. Compared to them, even a gnoll raiding party, which lives by plunder, possesses higher military discipline; at the very least, they can maintain basic formations and follow their leader’s commands.

The Riverbend infantry, however, have reached the standard of a professional army. Their tight formation, calm composure, and seamless coordination transform the entire unit into a war machine, crushing loose, unorganized enemies. Even though the gnoll barbarians are stronger, faster, and more bloodthirsty, they are helpless against the Riverbend infantry, like a creature biting into solid stone.