Chapter Eighty-Six: The Drill

“Reverse Your Weapons” was a command that Xu Wenshan had his soldiers focus on during training.

The essence of this formation was as follows: the front row crouched, spear tips pointed upward; the middle row held their spears horizontally; the rear row inverted their spears. The three rows’ spearheads faced the enemy at three different angles, while the shields of the sword-and-shield troops could only defend from one direction, making it impossible to protect against all three.

Most importantly, the advantage of the spear lay in its length.

Within a dense formation, five meters became five meters of death—almost no room for a frontal breakthrough.

Thus, the sword-and-shield soldiers met a miserable fate.

“Thrust!”

“Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud...”

“Thrust!”

“Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud...”

With each shout of “thrust” from Xu Wenshan, the spearmen stabbed forward. In truth, their stabbing frequency was high; the sword-and-shield line could barely withstand a few strikes before quickly collapsing, with many “casualties” taking an extra jab or two.

After a chaotic bout, these “casualties” finally remembered their role and slunk off the field.

The Red Team’s morale soared. This outcome had been beyond their expectations—the enemy hadn’t even reached them before being wiped out.

But Xu Wenshan did not rest. He shouted, “Hollow square formation!”

Without hesitation, the soldiers formed a hollow square. Soon after, the mixed unit of spearmen and swordsmen, far outnumbering the Red Team, surrounded them.

This was the real main force; the sword-and-shield troops were merely probing.

Even the Blue Team’s commander hadn’t anticipated such a disastrous cost for this probe—not a single sword-and-shield soldier managed to retreat; all fell in the frontal charge.

Yet their “sacrifice” taught the Blue commander that a frontal assault could never defeat the spear phalanx.

Still, the Blue Team enjoyed a numerical advantage. As long as they kept the Red Team occupied from the front, they could flank and win.

But at Xu Wenshan’s command, the spearmen swiftly formed a hollow square—now the formation resembled a porcupine bristling with spears, presenting points in every direction.

“Advance! Advance! Surround them! Get close and the opportunity will come!”

The Blue commander shouted desperately, urging his troops forward. Yet the forest of spears was intimidating, and the soldiers hesitated to charge.

He regretted not positioning archers closer earlier; now, with both sides near, it was too late to call them up.

The only option was to quickly engage, relying on individual combat prowess to overcome the porcupine in close quarters.

“March in step! Keep formation!”

The hollow square advanced, spears upright. If allowed to proceed, the Red flag would be lost. Under repeated urging, the Blue swordsmen and spearmen finally charged.

At the front, spearmen were struck by the spears, blocking further progress, while the swordsmen rolled beneath the bristling line, crawling forward with the spearmen obstructing behind, preventing the spearmen from withdrawing their weapons.

They crawled desperately, closing the distance, ready to swing their swords and remove the opposing row from the field.

At that moment, Xu Wenshan ordered, “Rear row, thrust!”

A line of spears stabbed through the gaps, striking the swordsmen and causing instant casualties—over half were down, the rest scrambled for openings.

“Thrust!”

Front and rear spears surged together, shattering the Blue formation. After a fierce struggle, the Blue formation collapsed entirely—only scattered survivors remained. The spear phalanx advanced; these routed soldiers were powerless. Few survived the massed five-meter spears.

After eliminating the enemy’s melee troops, only the archers remained, helpless. After several weak volleys, the phalanx reached the archers, and the Blue position was overrun—a complete victory for the Red Team.

No one, not even the Red Team, had expected such a result.

When casualties were tallied, everyone was astonished. Blue Team: 112 men, only 30-some survivors. Red Team: 50, with just 8 losses—mostly wounded by arrows. With shoulder guards and helmets, the damage from these simple bows was negligible; only the exercise rules counted them as “dead.”

No one expected a mere spear phalanx to defeat an enemy twice its size.

To Xu Wenshan, though, the outcome was not surprising. The Red soldiers were his own—professional troops, full-time, doing nothing but training daily. Beating a ragtag bunch who’d never trained seriously was hardly unusual.

Spearmen were not miraculous. At present, spearmen were simply the quickest and cheapest unit Xu Wenshan could deploy. The famed Spanish phalanx in history required support from musket troops to truly shine.

Melee troops served to maintain and push the line. Spearmen, highly dependent on formation, were cumbersome; with a manpower advantage, defeating spearmen was always possible.

For instance, cavalry could flank, incendiaries could be thrown, archers could be used...

Only when firepower was on their side did the phalanx become effective. If Xu Wenshan had two field cannons, he could leisurely let his spearmen hold the line and await attack.

But this was all hypothetical.

Never mind field cannons—his enemies didn’t even have composite bows.

Most crucially, their opponents lacked organization, relying solely on individual bravery.

But individual strength is always insignificant before the collective. When dozens of spears thrust forward, skill and courage are meaningless.

Thus, this victory was not one of advanced weapons over outdated ones, but of organization over chaos.

All in all, Xu Wenshan was not particularly satisfied with the outcome; given the current productivity of this world, there were several ways to defeat a spear phalanx.

The phalanx was merely Xu Wenshan’s emergency measure, for he faced an immediate enemy: Windstone Village.

Perhaps new weapons would soon be developed, and then the spearmen would fade from history. Yet this first batch of spearmen would carry the legacy of a month’s collective training, passing it on to the new army as the spark of its future.