Kingdombuilding: All My Inventions Are Novelty

Inside the Dunmere military camp, the soldiers trained with even more vigour when they saw Simon arrive.

Watching these honest and straightforward men, Simon turned to Lancelot and said. ”Looks like you’re going to be heading into the grasslands again soon.”

”Have the barbarian armies mobilised?” Lancelot asked.

Simon nodded. ”Yes. The scouts have just reported that the Sunderland Tribe has assembled a large force and is advancing toward Dunmere. Their objective is to destroy our new city wall. With such a grand mobilisation, their rear will surely be vulnerable. It’s the perfect time to strike.”

”Heh, this subordinate has been waiting for a chance to head back into the grasslands and round up a few more warhorses. Your Highness, I’ll assemble the troops at once. And let’s bring the recruits along too. Nothing trains a man like real battle. After this campaign, our cavalry will be much more experienced.” Lancelot grinned.

”Are they up for it?” Simon glanced over at the recruits who had only been training for a month, a little worried.

”They’re good enough to ride. We’re mostly conducting night raids, not engaging in full-scale mounted battles. For this kind of operation, just being able to ride is enough.” Lancelot explained.

After a month of training, these soldiers could manage basic riding. Riding itself wasn’t overly difficult; the hard part was performing complex manoeuvres on horseback.

In that regard, the Eldorian Empire cavalry couldn’t compare to the reavers. The nomads had mastered the skill of shooting arrows while riding, even while fleeing, their bodies so in sync with the horses that it was as if they were glued to the saddle. The Eldorian Empire’s cavalry, on the other hand, frequently fell off their mounts during intense movement.

Still, what Lancelot said wasn’t wrong. Only real combat could sharpen the edge of a soldier’s blade. In life-and-death situations, a man’s potential could be pushed to its peak.

After considering that this operation wouldn’t involve direct clashes and the recruits would be accompanied by veterans, Simon nodded.

After all, in this era, conscripting a strong man often made him a soldier. There wasn’t always time for perfect training.

After making arrangements with Lancelot, Simon went to find Benjamin. This time, Simon decided that Benjamin would remain in Dunmere to take overall command of the city’s defences.

Meanwhile, reinforcements from Brambleford had also arrived, making Dunmere’s military force even stronger than during the last war.

There was no such thing as a ’small’ war. No detail could be overlooked, and Simon had to prepare for the worst.

”If this general is not leading the expedition, then the grassland strike force still needs two cavalry columns. Who will lead the other?” Benjamin asked.

Lancelot replied boldly. ”This subordinate recommends Francis. The lad is from West Ham and knows the terrain well. I was only able to evade the reavers last time thanks to his guidance.”

Benjamin nodded. Lancelot, though reckless, had always been fair and just. He wouldn’t recommend someone out of favouritism, so Francis must have real skill.

Currently, the number of capable cavalry officers was still very limited. There were a few decent candidates in Benjamin’s group, but they were all veterans, not from West Ham. That didn’t align with Simon’s intention to build a regional cavalry corps in Divincox.

”I understand. My Lord intends to develop the Squad Divincox. That means we should start promoting officers from West Ham within that unit. Very well, let Francis take command.” Benjamin said.

Simon nodded. He had spoken with Francis before and found him sharp and perceptive. Since the long-term plan was to maintain pressure on the reavers from the West Ham region, they needed a local presence there.

In time, both Benjamin and Lancelot would need to return to Brambleford to manage the broader military apparatus. Dunmere would eventually be handed over to the Squad Divincox.

Simon also had his own development strategy for the Squad Divincox:

Let them grow autonomously.

In the future, he would allow them to plunder freely across the grasslands. If they wanted to expand, they’d have to seize their own warhorses and train recruits.

This would be a wild and untamed cavalry unit, but to prevent them from spiralling out of control, Simon would assign an official overseer to the unit. The behaviour of the troops could be unrestrained, but their ideology could not. The army, no matter how wild, had to remain in his hands.

He had no intention of letting the Squad Divincox turn into the historical one of the past, which eventually became a double-edged sword.

With command roles assigned, Benjamin instructed Lancelot and Liam to gather their men and prepare for deployment.

Meanwhile, Benjamin, Simon and Aiden ascended the city walls to finalise defensive plans.

This time, the reaver army’s goal wasn’t to breach the city but to destroy the new wall. Simon figured Fern had no interest in wasting troops on an all-out assault on Dunmere.

So the three of them agreed: they would launch a full-scale bombardment against the enemy, sparing no gunpowder or munitions.

Thanks to prior planning, Dunmere had ample reserves of black powder. Unlike the previous siege, they weren’t in danger of running out quickly.

That very night, Lancelot and Francis led their cavalry out through the mountain tunnel, vanishing into the grasslands under cover of darkness. According to scouts, the reaver army would arrive at the walls of Dunmere the next day.

At dawn, Simon and the others were already up. All construction workers had withdrawn from the outer wall. Brambleford troops had taken up positions in the trenches, and the trebuchets of Dunmere were locked and loaded.

A massive battle was about to begin.

”My Lord, they’re here.” Around midday, Benjamin pointed into the distance.

Through his telescope, Simon saw a vast black wave approaching; it was the Sunderland Army. The sky on the horizon had turned dark with their arrival, and leading the charge were thousands of slave soldiers.

These slaves wore tattered clothing and carried a mishmash of crude weapons.

As soon as the reaver army appeared, tension gripped the battlefield. Every soldier was on edge, waiting for the sound of the horn that would signal the attack.

”Woooo...”

A low, deep horn sounded across the grassland.

The reavers drove their slave troops forward, and from five hundred meters out, they began their assault on the defensive trench lines around Dunmere.

On the city walls, Liam held a red signal flag in hand, using flag commands to guide the artillery crews in loading and aiming.

”Fire!”

At Simon’s order, one hundred cannons roared as one. A wave of shells rained down on the advancing slaves.

”Aaargh!”

A chorus of screams erupted across the field.

Even though the slave soldiers had spread out, the bouncing cannonballs still tore through their ranks, painting the air with blood.

Many of these slave soldiers had heard of Dunmere’s cannons, but this was their first time seeing them. Before they could react, those beside them had already fallen, their corpses grotesquely mutilated.

And when they looked ahead, they saw comrades who had reached the trench line suddenly blasted into the sky, arms, legs, and heads flying apart amid fiery explosions.

In their eyes, there was only carnage now.

And in their ears, only the deafening thunder of artillery.