Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

The two groups clashed. 

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't either of the two front rows to first make contact with the enemy. By angling their approach and because of the arrow-shape of the enemy troops, it was the third row of the riders that got the honors of spilling the first blood. 

And they didn't hold back at doing so at all. 

"KILL!" The soldiers shouted right before the clash, carrying their voices along with each of their own attacks. 

First came the lances. Roughly two to three meters long, those simple weapons allowed the medium-armed soldiers of Castor's unit to attack the enemies even before they could attack them. 

Layn didn't pay much attention to the gory scene that ensued. Not only was the fight too chaotic and rapid for him to marvel at the skill of each of the soldiers, but there was also no glory in fighting whatsoever. 

Then, Castor's entire army pushed forward. Counteracting the arrow-like formation of the enemy, the two rows that split to the flank didn't bother attacking at all. They simply followed along the sides of the opposition, keeping the same pace as the charging lancers in the middle. 

'If I'm right,' Layn thought, watching the gore festival ahead from the relatively safe distance of the back row. "They should attack now," he muttered under his nose, not really intending for anyone to hear it. 

But nothing changed. 

The lancers at the front continued to cull the numbers of the enemies. Castor's troops also started to rack up losses. While only a few were injured and only two or three ended up dead so far, it was only a matter of time before the front unit would lose its entire momentum. 

And then, the losses would only continue to spike up. 

'What is he doing?' Layn asked in his thought, turning his face to Castor. Unfortunately, the man himself was fully focused on the battle, making him omit Layn's anxious glance. 'He should give the order already!' Layn scolded the man in his thoughts but ultimately decided to hold his tongue. 

Castor's face twitched. He stood up in his stirrups, gaining just enough height to survey the entire battlefield. 

"Now!" he shouted in the distance as if he wanted to express his love to his childhood friend standing on a nearby hill. 

Whizz! Whizz! 

The buzzing sound of the powerful whistle instantly introduced two major changes to the battlefield. 

The small detachments of the lighter cavalry that continued to flank the enemy so far suddenly gained more speed. Then, they turned inwards towards the column of the enemy, using their momentum to charge at the unexpecting soldiers of the other side. 

At the same time, the middle of the Castor's force slowed down. Just looking at how precisely the entire maneuver was coordinated, it became clear that it was something those soldiers considered bread and butter of their lifestyle and technique.

"Tad too late," Layn muttered once again, watching how the slight lapse of Castor's judgment resulted in two parts of his force joining together almost perfectly. 

Sadly, they lacked perfection. 

By the time the two forces merged again and pushed the enemy force off to regroup, five more soldiers left the battlefield. Whether they were just injured or already gave their lives up would only become apparent once the battle would conclude. 

Castor's force continued to push forward. As soon as they got some breathing room to reform their ranks, the formation changed from a simple column into a wedge. 

"Roll up the left flank!" Castor shouted again, only for six more whistle noises to shake the air. During the momentary break, his forces managed to get back into formation. 

'Just who is dumb enough to waste people like that?' Layn asked himself while watching how the other side fared. And to say the least, they weren't in a good position. 

The initial charge neutralized their numerical advantage, bringing their original position of three to one to a more reasonable two to one. 

For a single charge to devastate a third of the opposing army, there had to be some kind of magic involved. Otherwise, one could achieve such a result only by putting complete amateurs against hardened veterans. 

'I'm reluctant to admit, but I guess I overestimated those people by quite am l...' Layn couldn't even finish his sentence when the enemy finally launched a real counterattack. 

From behind the backs of the loosely armed and disciplined troops, a new kind of unit emerged. Roughly a fourth of the size of Castor's troops, they didn't appear to be any significant threat... For as long as one wouldn't bother to look at their equipment. 

Even if it wasn't cutting edge, it was evident that their equipment offered more protection than the simple fur caps that the rest of their allies wore. Their weapons also turned from clubs and simple spears into more sophisticated tools for taking lives away. 

"I wonder if they will do it in time," Layn said to himself, keenly watching the minute changes happening ahead of him. While he was in the back row initially, after Castor reshuffled his unit, Layn had no other choice other than following orders. 

Soon, Castor's plan was unveiled. 

With nearly half of his troops amassing on the left wing, the entire formation started to ride forward. 

Standing against them were the elitarist troops of the other party. 'Ir so, I guess,' thought Layn when watching the approaching enemy. And that's when it struck him. "Those people are not soldiers at all!" 

As simple as it was to judge something like that after the measly performance of the other side, it could have some disastrous effects down the line. 

Because there was no way for a country idiotic enough to pit amateurs against veterans with no further plan to follow it up could ever corner Slavians as much as Castor claimed they did!

And sure enough, the momentary break from the fighting didn't last for long. 

For the second bout, Castor abandoned the idea of fighting from the column, turning his long formation into a wedge first before extending it to the sides. The left-wing got notably reinforced by twice as many people as there were on the right. The enemies didn't think where to attack for long. 

Clash. 

Once again, two rows of people pushed against each other. Instantly, the air filled with screams of the injured, moaning of the wounded, and the metallic taste of blood. 

'No one can take the initiative,' Layn observed, grasping at the handle of his sword. Right now, he was sadly in the middle of the left-wing of Castor's army, ready to pounce at the enemy at the first given notice...

But it didn't come. Instead, the two forces simply clashed in what could only be described as a brutal street fight fought from horseback. 

'At this rate, his unit will lose its cohesiveness,' Layn thought grimly, watching how the well-equipped part of the enemy managed to prove themselves to be up to par Castor's mercenaries. But that wasn't the problem. 

At the current moment, Castor still had the advantage of his people being veterans. All their fighting skills and equipment aside, with each fallen man, Castor's options were limited even further. 

And then, the moment finally came.

"UNRAVEL!" Castor's shout cut through the air of the area, instantly pushing the left wing into action. 'We didn't fight almost at all so far. This might have a chance of working out pretty well,' Layn thought, fixing his sweaty hand over the handle of his weapon. 

The enemy saw through Castor's initiative. Or rather, that's what they were likely to believe. By hitting the weaker spot of his unit, the enemy did the exact same thing that Layn would do if he was the commander.

And now, as the left-wing suddenly started to curve a flank around the positions of the enemy proved that Layn's idea for solving the fight was almost perfectly aligned with Castor's plan. 

"Go, Go, go," Layn muttered in the rhythm of his horse's run. He pulled out his weapon, ready to use it at a first moment's notice. And such notice came even earlier than expected. 

Layn finally managed to reach the close distance. Swinging his borrowed sword, he decapitated his first poor enemy before moving his attention ahead. 

"Kill!" Layn shouted, clearly influenced by the situation. He jerked his sword up before throwing its sharp edge towards another opponent. But there was no stopping now. 

Soon, Layn's attacks carved out a long and wide path in the ranks of the enemy. But it was only a small element of the greater puzzle. When taking into account what others managed to achieve, Layn's own achievements suddenly lost quite a lot of value. 

"CEASE FIGHTING!" Castor suddenly shouted, forcing his people to hold their weapons. And as strange as it was to stop the fight in the middle of the battle, as soon as Castor's troops allowed their enemies to save themselves by escaping, the other party actually started to retreat!

'Right in time,' Layn thought when observing how almost every single last soldier of the enemy group started to ride away. Before long, Castor appeared in the middle of the unit.