Repel the enemy

The spearmen were still tense, but their strong performance had relaxed their muscles a bit, making them less rigid. Derek didn't forget to observe the situation. He saw that the bandits were gradually coming to a consensus and might surround them. The caravan had barely formed a circle, and Vincent, the steward, had left a gap.

"Retreat in a staggered formation, watch your step."

The spearmen retreated slowly. Their fierce display had made the bandits hesitant and unwilling to advance. Several small leaders cursed and kicked their subordinates, driving them to pursue. One particularly fierce individual even charged ahead of the others.

Mountain folk were indeed fierce; this wasn't just talk. If it had been a group of farmers, they would have likely collapsed by now. But if Derek had to choose, he'd still prefer farmers. Obedience was crucial. Combat skills could be trained through practice, but obedience was harder to instill.

Seeing the bandits about to charge and possibly disrupt their formation, Derek wouldn't indulge them. He gave a direct order.

"Stop, thrust!"

The spearmen instinctively halted and thrust forward.

Thud, thud, thud!

The guy charging at the front was instantly pierced multiple times, blood spurting out. This time, the rest of the bandits were completely cowed, and no one dared to advance.

Derek then directed the spearmen to retreat into the makeshift camp. Vincent was the first to come over. He had just witnessed the entire process, and Derek's performance left him in awe.

He had worked with many mercenaries, but such elite and fierce ones were a first. Not to mention their combat strength, just the courage to counter-charge was beyond most mercenaries. Few elite ones could manage it, but to also counter-attack while retreating, that was unheard of. Otherwise, the bandits wouldn't have chased so recklessly.

Clearly, strength was an extremely valuable resource, at least in Vincent's eyes.

"Sir Derek, you truly live up to the reputation of the Count's knightly order. This is the first time I've seen such a powerful warrior like you."

Now, he believed Derek was indeed an elite knight. He even started to think that the exaggerated stories Derek had told might actually be true. When he got back, he would certainly inquire about this fierce warrior from the Count's knightly order.

For now, Derek ignored Vincent and checked on his spearmen.

No one was seriously injured, thanks to the crude leather armor. One unfortunate soul had an arrow hit his chest, but the force barely penetrated the armor and didn't even break the skin. The others were completely unharmed. After all, a longer weapon has a greater reach, and the bandits couldn't get close enough to cause any damage. Additionally, if it weren't for the bandits, even this number of regular troops, or even militia, could have caused significant casualties.

Derek quickly took command of the defense, distributing weapons to everyone. He evenly assigned the caravan guards, and the porters stayed in the back, ready to strike when needed. He ordered the spearmen to remain on alert, as a fight could break out at any moment.

The bandits outside were hesitant, seemingly conflicted among themselves. However, having already suffered over a dozen casualties, returning empty-handed would be too humiliating. After a heated argument, the leaders decided to continue their attack. Learning from their previous failure, they made a simple plan to break through the caravan's defenses in one swift assault. They didn't consider the wagons as serious obstacles.

Seeing the bandits with no real strategy, Derek sneered. "We're basically safe. These fools think they're an elite army?"

Using wagons as shields was effective; even regular troops would struggle without proper equipment. If it were Derek, he'd prepare to use fire oil. But bandits seeking wealth usually wouldn't resort to such measures. Rushing in like this, they were underestimating the situation.

Unless they had several times their number or were prepared to endure heavy losses, they stood no chance. Unfortunately for them, they had neither.

"Sir Derek, should we negotiate with them?" Vincent, the steward, was getting nervous again.

Showing their tough stance but being willing to pay for peace was also an option. If they could establish a relationship, it might make this trade route safer in the future.

"No rush. If we negotiate now, their demands will be too high. We need to repel them first," Derek replied without turning around. He knew that after another failed attempt, the bandits might give up and leave, making negotiations unnecessary. They were just a rabble, not a real threat.

Derek could see clearly that these were just mountain folks pretending to be bandits. But there was no need to explain this to Vincent.

Soon, the bandits charged again, shouting loudly. This time, they were even more confused and disorganized.

The spearmen's chaotic thrusts, combined with the caravan guards, quickly dispatched any bandits who managed to climb over. The seemingly useless wagons turned into impregnable fortresses.

Vincent, the steward, wasn't foolish. Observing the situation, he realized that paying for peace might not be necessary. "So these bandits are just bluster?"

Hearing Vincent's comment, Derek finally relaxed and turned around. If the client thought it was easy, the business wouldn't be good. Thus, he shattered Vincent's illusion.

"If it were me, I'd start by setting fires and ambushing. No one from the caravan would escape. If they wanted to rob, a dawn raid would catch us off guard. They could also use battering rams to break down these wagons. Not to mention poisoning or other sneaky tactics. If these bandits were a bit more professional, we wouldn't have gotten off so easily today."

Vincent shuddered at Derek's words and gave him a wary look. If this guy ever turned rogue, where would that leave them? Professional expertise was clearly leagues ahead of amateurs. He quickly abandoned any thoughts of cutting costs. Spending money to ensure safety was worth it—if you're dead, you can't spend anything.

As the bandits suffered more casualties, they finally gave up. They had come to rob, not to die. Without needing orders, they began to flee. Seeing this, the remaining bandits, now outnumbered, also fled. Some took their fallen comrades, while others ran for their lives.

In the blink of an eye, most of the bandits had scattered, leaving behind only a few corpses they couldn't carry.

Many in the caravan heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed to the ground, having genuinely feared for their lives. Normally, they wouldn't encounter such a large group of bandits.

The caravan's losses included a few unlucky individuals who were wounded, one who was killed, some damaged wagons, and some lost goods. However, compared to being completely ransacked, these losses were minimal.