This is the eastern edge of Rising Stone Town.
In the previous chaos, Jon Fossoway had gathered all the forces he could still control in this temporarily calm area.
This was the limit of what he could do.
Time was too short. Enemy cavalry attacked from the camps to the north and south, and from across the river to the west, breaking through the two outer defense lines with almost no resistance.
Rising Stone Town wasn't large enough to slow down the cavalry's advance.
Everyone who was awakened saw the destruction and slaughter happening nearby and understood that this scene was about to spread into the town.
Rising Stone Town was just an ordinary town. Apart from the small castle in the center of the town, what could possibly stop the cavalry's trampling? And the defense lines set up outside the town had already been breached.
The threat of death was so thick and sudden.
If it weren't for the bright light the enemy shot into the sky dispelling the terrifying unknown darkness, the large army might have directly panicked and scattered.
But it was not far from collapse.
Jon Fossoway recognized this, so he decisively abandoned the small castle and went among the dense crowd, trying to regain control of this chaotic army.
Only in this way could they truly have a glimmer of hope for survival. After all, it was twenty thousand people.
By this time, many people had spontaneously run to a safe place, or a place they considered safe — the east side of the town.
Jon Fossoway took advantage of this to gather his troops here.
Although the low houses and winding dirt roads in the town couldn't delay the enemy for too long, at this critical moment of life and death, even just a single breath of time was precious and worth fighting for with all their might.
The enemy's shouts and images filled the entire sky.
Jon Fossoway ordered all the horns to be blown and all messengers to be sent out. This was both to interfere with the enemy's shouting and calls for surrender, to alleviate unease and hesitation, and also to tell the army: the units engaging the enemy should resist in place, and those not yet in combat should immediately move east to join the defense.
Jon Fossoway didn't know how effective the first military order was.
But the second military order quickly showed results. Countless soldiers surged in from the west, north, and south, in twos and threes, or one or two small squads, their formations scattered.
The initial military formation was almost broken up again by these people.
Fortunately, the enemy didn't arrive at this time.
The military formation then opened gaps, allowing the panicked "reinforcements" to run to the rear to rest and prepare.
It had to be this way.
These newcomers looked exactly like a group of deserters. Their armor was messy, their expressions panicked, and they didn't even have weapons.
Where did the officers go?! How can we fight in this situation?!
Jon Fossoway's face couldn't help but darken.
Fortunately, a weapons depot was set up in the east. The quartermaster quickly led a group of relatively stable soldiers to maintain order and rapidly distributed swords and bow and arrow to the people.
The cavalry charged over.
Fortunately, several thousand soldiers had already reorganized and were blocking the front line.
Jon Fossoway immediately ordered the military formation to defend and counterattack, while also telling the scattered soldiers in the rear to speed up and be ready to support at any time.
The terrain was relatively favorable.
Jon Fossoway secretly comforted himself.
The roads within Rising Stone Town were narrow and winding, making it impossible for large groups of cavalry to maneuver, while infantry formations could be more effective.
Moreover, their side still had a numerical advantage.
At least fifteen thousand people were concentrated here now, while the attacking cavalry numbered at most a few thousand.
Even adding those...
Jon Fossoway looked into the distance behind him. The light illuminated a large area, allowing him to see the scene on the hills east of the town.
Several thousand cavalry were lined up in three lines, completely still.
Further back were several hundred small black dots, from which the bright light in the sky was emitted.
If it was just this ability, there was still hope.
Twenty thousand against ten thousand.
Threats were on all sides, and they absolutely could not retreat rashly.
Jon Fossoway thought silently. They had to withstand the charge of these few thousand cavalry and buy time. It was well known that horses would tire faster than people.
Similarly, there were at least several thousand people outside the town who could fight, and time would make them much calmer, restoring some courage and loyalty. Swords were right beside them, as long as they could see the hope of victory.
But the enemy suddenly stopped, with only a few hundred continuing to advance, looking almost suicidal.
But then those things happened.
Now...
"Surrender and live!"
The Blackfish charged at the forefront with the Holy War Army.
With the reinforcement of the declarations in the sky, the cavalry on their warhorses broke through the first shield wall and spear formation, encountering little resistance.
These soldiers had generally lost their fighting spirit.
But the scattered soldiers behind had initially recovered their combat strength, and they hadn't seen the power of the Holy Shield.
The officers issued strict orders.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, many soldiers aimed their weapons at the cavalry in front and drew their Bows and Arrows.
The Cannons turned their muzzles.
Bang!
Bang! Bang...
Solid iron balls plowed cruel scars through the Military Formation, and crimson gore and pale broken bones were clearly visible under the Light.
Exploding bombs were even more heart-stopping.
With a loud bang, steel fragments flew in all directions like startled birds, passing through armor and flesh and blood along the way, until they were deeply embedded in the earth and stone.
Within the white mist was a complete dead end. The vibration and impact shattered internal organs, causing blood to seep from mouths and noses. High temperatures steamed the silent or wailing flesh and blood, creating a sickening smell that caused countless living people to kneel and vomit.
The Cannons only fired one volley.
All the soldiers laid down their weapons, even with the strict officers they usually feared standing beside them, their expressions terrifying.
The officers themselves were at a loss.
Everyone looked at Ser Jon Fossoway, who was directing from a high position...
The mud was damp like after a rain, the air warm like a summer afternoon. The Cavalry leisurely paced among countless soldiers, and no one dared to resist.
Once again, the "candle" in the sky fell and extinguished.
Deep, unknown darkness is always unsettling, especially this time with the added unknown sounds and short shouts.
Whoosh—
Light returned.
Countless people had terrified expressions and dull eyes.
They saw blood.
"No!!" Karyl Vance roared angrily, his eyes bloodshot.
He rolled off his Warhorse and ran towards the body in the pool of blood.
An ordinary Dagger was stuck in the body's neck. It was his father, Lord Vance of Wayfarer's Rest!
He wasn't the only one crying out in grief.
House Piper, House Bracken, House Mooton...
"Who pretended to surrender and struck in the dark!?" Ser Allyn Mooton of the Kingsguard's voice trembled. "Who killed my Brother!? If you have any honor left, step forward immediately! I will duel you one-on-one!"
Allyn Mooton gripped his Longsword tightly, examining every Reach Sergeant with suspicious and resentful eyes.
The Cavalry became restless.
The Blackfish frowned deeply and ordered everyone not to move.
The "candle" extinguished again.
Faint sounds rose and fell in the darkness, the smell of blood spread rapidly, and Life silently dissipated.
When the Light returned the next time, there were few Reach Ser left.
There were also casualties on their side.
The Blackfish was horrified and immediately shouted, "Take the prisoners! The battle is over!!"
The Light did not disappear again. The battlefield returned to calm.
Looking at the surviving Jon Fossoway, Littlefinger sighed silently. Be fortunate, your wife is Janna Tyrell, and she doesn't have the ambition of men.
All targets cleared. He submitted the mission.
Many Holy War Army soldiers paused in their steps.
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