The black dot in the east drew closer and closer, and soon the Orc Cavalry could be clearly seen. They were bare-armed, revealing scarred muscles, wielding battle axes and spears, and their warhorses were very strong, charging wildly under the whips of their riders.
"Two hundred paces away!" shouted the soldiers in charge of ranging, their voices tense.
The infantrymen held their breath, pointed their guns at the charging orcs, and gripped the triggers tightly.
Olfina, in the center of the wagon formation, clenched her fists, her eyes fixed on the defensive line, while Eileen, hiding behind a wagon, peeked out, her face flushed with nervousness.
"One hundred and fifty paces! Release!"
The order to fire had barely left the ground when a barrage of gunfire erupted across the plains. A hail of bullets rained down on the Orc Cavalry, and the first few orcs fell instantly, hurled from their horses and trampled into a bloody pulp. The horses, struck by the bullets, neighed in agony and collapsed, throwing their riders off. But the Orc Cavalry did not stop; they continued their charge, stepping over the corpses of their fallen comrades, closing in on the wagon formation.
The soldiers swiftly cocked their guns, removed empty cartridge cases, and loaded new ammunition. The clicking sound of loading filled the air. Thanks to the convenience of breech-loading guns, just ten seconds later, a second volley of fire erupted, and another group of orcs fell on their way to the charge.
But once the Orc Cavalry closed to within a hundred paces, they began to launch ranged attacks on the wagon formation with their shortbows and spears. Several spears whistled across the defensive line, piercing the shoulders of two infantrymen. The soldiers groaned and fell to the ground, immediately being dragged behind the wagon formation by their comrades for treatment.
"Throw grenades!" the major immediately ordered upon seeing the situation. Several soldiers carrying grenades quickly drew their iron grenades from their waists, pulled the fuses, paused for two seconds, and then threw them forcefully towards the densely packed Orc Cavalry area.
After several loud bangs, the grenades exploded in the orc formation, black smoke instantly billowed out, shrapnel flew everywhere, and the orcs next to them were torn to shreds, causing the charging formation to fall into chaos instantly.
The three "Grasshopper" light cannons hidden in the gaps between the vehicles opened fire!
The gunners had already adjusted the muzzle angles, and after the gunner gave the order, they immediately lit the fuses. A dense hail of bullets flew toward Orc Cavalry, and more than a dozen orcs, along with their warhorses, burst into a bloody mist, completely halting the charge.
Seeing the situation was dire, the Orc Cavalry leader roared and tried to reorganize the charge, but the Ausser Army's fire remained intense, with grenades and shells exploding continuously in the ranks, causing increasing casualties.
He looked at the chariot formation before him, which resembled an iron fortress, and then at the heavily wounded cavalrymen around him, a flash of resentment crossing his eyes.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" The orc chieftain roared, turning his horse around and fleeing eastward. The cavalrymen followed suit, turning their horses around and fleeing in disarray, their previous momentum completely gone.
"Don't chase! Hold the line!" the major warned the soldiers, warning that a hasty pursuit might lead to an ambush. The soldiers ceased firing, their eyes warily fixed on the direction the orcs fled, only gradually relaxing after the figures had completely disappeared into the eastern dunes.
After the battle, the grasslands were littered with the corpses of Orc Cavalry and the remains of their warhorses. Blood stained the withered grass, and the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood.
The soldiers began clearing the battlefield, treating the wounded, and inspecting wagons and supplies. Fortunately, only a few infantrymen were injured, and no one was killed.
The major walked to the center of the wagon formation and bowed to Olfina: "Madam, the orcs have been repelled, and we are safe now."
Olfina breathed a sigh of relief and nodded: "Thank you for your hard work, Captain. Take care of the wounded as soon as possible, we still need to get to the next supply station."
The transport caravan traveled for another two days, bumping along. During these two days, there were occasional stragglers of orcs trying to sneak around, but they were all driven away by vigilant scout cavalry. The journey was relatively smooth.
As the sun rose on the third day, the outlines of a continuous stretch of tents finally appeared on the horizon ahead— the main camp of the Northwest Legion.
"The main camp is just ahead!" The major reined in his horse, his tone noticeably relaxed. He gestured for the transport team to slow down. "Everyone, stay alert. Once we cross the outer perimeter, we can rest."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a troop of cavalry emerged from behind the distant sand dunes—a patrol from the outskirts of the camp. The leading cavalry officer, seeing the convoy's flag, immediately spurred his horse closer, stopping a hundred paces away: "Show me your identification!"
Olfina stepped forward and handed the token and documents to the other party. The patrol officer carefully checked the token and documents, and then had the soldiers check the supplies in several wagons. After confirming that everything was in order, he said to everyone, "You must be tired from your journey. Come with me to the camp!"
The transport team followed the patrol towards the camp. The closer they got, the more Olfina could feel the lively atmosphere in the air. In the passageways between the tents, soldiers carried weapons back and forth; some were wiping their rifles, some were moving ammunition boxes, and others were huddled together talking loudly, their faces full of excitement. In the distance, cheers could even be heard from the drill ground, a stark contrast to the solemn atmosphere that should have been there.
"Why is it so lively in the camp?" she couldn't help but ask the patrol officer beside her.
The patrol officer replied with a smile, "You don't know yet, do you? We've just met up with General Andrew's Steppe Expeditionary Force!"
His tone was full of joy. "Since we entered the grasslands, the grassland legion has been advancing eastward from Blackwater Lake in the west. Hey, they've been really lucky. Most of Abar's troops were deployed to deal with us. They encountered almost no decent resistance along the way, only fought a few small skirmishes, and easily subdued many grassland tribes. The advance troops arrived at our camp yesterday evening."
A hint of surprise flashed in Olfina's eyes. Andrew's army was stationed on the grasslands and was more familiar with the orc army. Their arrival would undoubtedly greatly enhance their combat power.
She quickened her pace instinctively, her eyes searching for Paul's figure in the camp, her anticipation growing stronger.
Eileen stayed close to Olfina, curiously observing everything in the camp—the tall tents, the soldiers moving back and forth, and the distant herd of warhorses, all of which filled her with a sense of novelty and excitement.
The transport convoy traveled along the main road of the camp. Soldiers on both sides cast curious glances at the wagons. News had spread throughout the camp that a medicine that could alleviate the pain of surgery had been transported from the far rear to the front lines, and that these supplies would greatly help the wounded soldiers there.
The patrolling officer led the transport team toward the logistics area. In the distance, toward the command tent, several men who looked like generals were talking. One of them was a familiar figure that made Olfin's heart race instantly—it was Paul Greiman, whom they hadn't seen for three months.