The Orcs' Porcupine Formation
The horde of orcs arrayed across the field suddenly curled into a porcupine-like formation all at once. Standing shoulder to shoulder in a perfect circle, thrusting their long spears forward—a classic defensive circle.
I knew a few historical examples of this kind of formation. The first that came to mind was, predictably, from my past life's history: the ancient Western European infantry's schiltron. The most famous case was probably the one deployed by William Wallace during the Scottish Wars of Independence.
Scotland, sorely outmatched in cavalry against the English, had formed that kind of array to prevent enemy horse from striking their flanks or rear. In the end, it allowed the Scottish infantry to hold effectively against English cavalry charges at times.
The orcs' intent seemed much the same. Orcs were already vulnerable to focused strikes on key individuals, and they faced harsh conditions for breeding cavalry or anything comparable. Their mounted forces were inevitably thin, and when they tried maneuvers, Ruticia's cavalry would target their elites and slaughter them time and again.
But hide those elites inside a bristling wall of long spears, and it became hard for cavalry charges to pick them off. With my current forces, a frontal assault on that spear circle wouldn't be easy either.
...Not that there's no way to crack it.
With that thought, I led my infantry and crossbowmen toward the front lines in haste.
Meanwhile, the knights I'd split into two groups under my orders—the ones racing left along the marsh—were closing in on the orc forces.
"───Awooooo!!"
"Awooooaaah!!"
Meeting them head-on were orc riders mounted on massive wolves called Epikion. The lead rider howled, and his subordinates joined in a chorus. The beasts' roars had a startling effect on our herbivore horses.
Prrrrp, prrrrp...!! Even from afar, I could see tension rippling through the mounts. The knights soothed their horses and pressed on, of course.
Warhorses bred for battlefields like this wouldn't shatter from a mere predator's threat. But cavalry power came from maintaining tight formation and momentum. Disrupting that with panicked horses alone made for an effective anti-cavalry tactic.
Orc mounted combat relied entirely on their mounts' instincts. Wielding curved sabers, they leaped like predators at the last moment before impact, using the Epikion's powerful jaws and those sweeping blades for surprise strikes. Unlike horses that could maintain stable speed for lance charges, Epikion's breed couldn't manage it, so lances were out.
The mid-weight knights and wolf riders clashed first at the base of the hill where the orcs had dug in their circle. Lances fixed straight, channeling horse and rider weight most efficiently, pierced Epikion head-on.
"Graaack...!!"
Agile orc riders struck from blind spots, deflecting the charging knight's momentum to smash their legs and unhorses them.
A brutal melee of different races erupted in seconds.
Not quite Total War... but watching knights fight raiders up close.
And when knights clashed head-on with raiders, the raiders got massacred. Same here.
"Kyeng...!"
With sounds like a summer beating, the orc riders crumbled in moments after first impact.
As I'd explained at length, their strength lay in ambushes, not frontal fights. Unless our orc predecessor was a fool, he'd have a follow-up.
Sure enough, massive axe-wielding orc infantry—hidden within the circle till now—charged down the hill to hit knights tangled with the wolf riders.
Letting that charge hit unchecked would hurt even knights badly. But as those axe orcs rushed out, a sudden rapid drumbeat exploded, sending them scrambling back into the spear circle.
I couldn't see why from behind the hill and orc masses, but I knew already. If my knights followed orders, it was inevitable.
"Alright, time for us to hustle too."
*
How is this even possible?
Albert von Beletia, Margrave of Ruticia, watching via scrying screen from outside, couldn't hide his bafflement.
The initial cavalry split left and right along the marsh was predictable, as was the left wing clashing with wolf riders. But the right wing didn't slam into the orcs—instead, they swung wide around them.
"That forced Darko into a choice, didn't it?"
A golden-haired woman appeared late, beaming innocently as she sidled up to the margrave. Imperial Princess Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis.
"Leave the axe infantry out to hammer the baron's left cavalry, and take hits from the right wing yourself... or sacrifice the wolf riders to preserve strength."
"...When did you arrive, Your Highness?"
"Just now? I told you I had business, Margrave. But since it was my idea, I had to watch. Plus, check if the baron keeps his promise."
She grasped the situation instantly despite arriving late—what could you even call that?
"But isn't that odd?"
"What is?"
"Those orc infantry holding steady—they look fine. If they break formation and attack the baron's cavalry, he'll just lose his knights."
Hebel's right-wing cavalry now menaced the battlefield, pinning orc infantry from supporting the wolf fight. But the main orc body—pikemen, poison archers, javelinmen—weren't props. If they moved, wouldn't they crush the baron's split forces piecemeal?
The princess dismissed the margrave's doubt simply.
"They won't move."
"Why?"
"That complex circle takes time to reposition. They can't march while holding it."
"Ah, and if the pikemen redeploy now...!"
"That's what the baron is aiming for."
She nodded. A pike circle was solid. Charge it head-on, and you'd lose knights for nothing. No flanking either.
But life wasn't rigid plans. Tight formations like that were inflexible. Break it to reform and attack, and the baron pulls back cavalry, exploiting overwhelming horse superiority to toy with the pikes.
Pike circle's strength and flaw: invincible spear-forward, helpless otherwise. Famous tale of southern kingdoms' elite pikemen slaughtered by imperial infantry after scrambling up a hill and disordering.
And moving cavalry so boldly means he foresaw this.
Could Darko adapt flexibly? The battle's flow hinged there.
*
After brief skirmishes, the orc wolf riders finally raised the white flag and routed. Brave or not, huge frontal gap plus no support left them no choice.
My cavalry took losses too, but minor compared to orcs' near-total cavalry wipeout.
Orc response during the retreat was passive: javelinmen and poison archers poked out to harass my right wing swinging wide.
I'd warned not to bite, so hopefully they preserved forces.
Opponent's playing it too safe.
Orc plan was probably grind my knights with everything available. Pike crash for big win; even without, enough damage eased their path.
But my knights dodged every trap.
"Got it? No need to force fights with their infantry. Just harass with cavalry till I bring my foot up."
Orders working as planned. If orcs broke and attacked, I'd even ordered full retreat.
Thankfully, Darko held back, forced to watch impotently.
While knights stalled, my infantry and crossbowmen bypassed the marsh to join the line. The orcs, once defending before the marsh, now had it at their back—turning defensive into a river-trapped stand.
But in a duel, no retreat didn't mean much. Orcs still burned hot; they'd ignore the marsh. Elites intact, axe, poison archer, javelin support ready. Orc boss figured it was time for the main clash.
"Crossbowmen, forward!"
"Shields up front!"
Still no intent to ram my forces into that pike wall. Instead, I'd whittle till they cracked and charged out themselves—like endless Ruticia-orc wars.
"Marksmanship to squad leaders' orders!"
"Target pikemen!"
"No wild shots over the hill! Hit what you can!"
Pavise shields slammed down by shieldbearers; crossbow teams of three per leaned in, trading fire against incoming javelins and arrows.
Bolts whistled skyward at orcs huddled in their circle, enduring arrow rain. Now suffering what they usually inflicted—how'd our orc predecessor feel?
Roles reversed; I'd call it poetic justice.
And then.
"Infantry! Anyone who can, grab rocks from the ground and hurl 'em! Pass it down!"
"Chuck rocks at the orc bastards if you can!"
"Rocks at orcs!"
Ruticia troops grinned like kids, pelting stones too. Doubtful much damage at range, but...
Plenty of provocation.
Now, how would Darko react? No certainty, but one thing clear: our orc predecessor was dead wrong about something crucial.