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A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 961: The Advance Force - Part 1
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He delighted in this. In challenges, so perfectly defined, and so carefully placed just out of his reach. Something that he could test the force of his will on, those were tasks that would always inspire him to a certain level of excitement.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
Unbidden, the flecks of Claudia rose up in his eyes. His was the longing for progress and for achievement. It was the will of a hero, and she delighted in it. Ingolsol joined her. His motivations were entirely different, but where there was chaos, and there was the opportunity to hold his strength over another force, and reduce them into despair, the Dark God would always make his appearance.
Together, the three of them reaffirmed their want for battle.
"Breakthrough? Fifty thousand?" Firyr said. It was the second time that Oliver had told him this, but the man was still pulling a face like he didn't understand.
Oliver tutted in annoyance. General Karstly had demonstrated a way of explaining things to his men, and Oliver had attempted to try that technique on his own, but he seemed to be lacking in it. He hadn't managed to compel them to excitement. There seemed to only be a vague understanding there.
They were very much like the Oliver of the previous day, lost and uncertain of where their place amongst all these soldiers was.
"Crush them, Firyr," Oliver said. "That is all, like always. No, even simpler than always. This time, we run in a straight line. Whoever is in your way, trample them."
"Ohhh," Firyr said. "Oh!" He said again, with more excitement. "Why didn't ya just say that, Captain? If it's crushing people you want, then I'm your man, and these are your men, ain't that right boys?"
"""AWOOOOO!!"""
A few dozen ex-slaves rose up their weapons at once. To Oliver, they seemed to be adopting the characteristics of their Commander in Firyr. They preferred the simple things. They simply wanted to smash what was in front of them to pieces, and they gave no mind to anything else.
"Do you understand, Yorick?" Oliver asked the new Commander of his cavalry. He still didn't have much of a handle on what the new man was like, but at the very least, he thought that he would be cooperative enough to make things work on the battlefield.
"I do, Captain," the man replied politely. "Or at least, I think I do. If it is breaking a line that you need, I imagine you will wish for cavalry in the vanguard?"
"…I am currently undecided," Oliver replied. Even with cavalry, he wasn't sure if their raw destructive might could best that of Firyr and his infantry, or even Verdant. The old Patrick forces were experts at smashing things, whereas the new cavalry was still an unknown variable.
"Very well," Yorick said, making an effort to take the comment well.
"My Lord prefers to view the battlefield before making any solid plans," Verdant explained to the man before he could get offended. "Though there are indeed age-old battlefield rules, my Lord does not commit to them entirely, for he knows that even the most stalwart of rules ought to be broken if a particular situation were to demand it."
"I understand, Lord Idris. I have taken no offence," Yorick assured him.
Whether or not he gave such reassurances, it didn't do much to erase the doubt behind Oliver's eyes. These men were not his yet, and he could most certainly feel that.
He'd supposed that they might have a few minor battles before they entered into a more important conflict, and he'd planned to use that time to unify his army once again. But he'd been robbed of that option now, and there was nothing to be done about it, aside from press forward and make use of what he had.
"Jorah," Oliver said, turning to the final man amongst his hundred man Commanders. "Are your men ready?"
Under Jorah, there were Karesh and Kaya as Sergeant Majors. They commanded a good amount of men of their own, but even those numbers hadn't been enough to stop Karesh from being more than a little jealous of Jorah's high position – at least for a while. It had taken them a good few battles before he'd realized he simply could do what Jorah could.
Jorah turned to his men, saying nothing, as if deflecting the question towards them.
"""AWOOOO""" Came the same enthusiastic reply. They were a mixture of slaves and peasants just as Firyr's men were, but Jorah had won them around all the same, even if his style of leadership was rather different to that of the hotblooded Firyr.
"Very good," Oliver said, nodding his approval. They, at least, were eager. Though that couldn't be said for all their men, at least it could be said for a few. The type of fighting that they'd be doing, Oliver expected that eagerness would go a long way. "Verdant, is Blackthorn quite ready?"
"I do believe she is talking to her men, my Lord," Verdant said, looking over in the direction of Blackthorn's encampment. "…She is taking a while though. Perhaps I ought to check on her, my Lord?"
"Do," Oliver said. "Those men of hers hardly need a speaking to. They're all filled with an eagerness to serve."
That was the sentiment that Oliver had gotten from them anyway. The gruff Blackthorn men were making significant efforts to be useful for their young Lady, even to the point of being irritating.
Verdant – Oliver's Vice-Captain – dashed off. He was fully armoured like the rest of them, and had his spear on hand already. He'd claimed that it helped him to handle the weapon as often as he could. With clumsiness like his, little added bits of training like that were a necessity.
In his absence, Oliver gave his men one last swift overlooking. They were the hard-earned products of three years of work. From the soldiers, to the Sergeants, to the Commanders, each man was a man that he was proud of.
They'd worked on their weaknesses. The slaves had always had strength, and the years had given them discipline and military placement as well. The Sergeants had done the same. Those with the qualities necessary for leadership were encouraged to come forth, and nurture those attributes.
Those that had already led in the past – outside of the Patrick forces – were given the opportunities they needed to demonstrate themselves again.
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