When the spire of Shovel Port Church appeared in Botar's line of sight, he let out a genuine sigh of relief.
The journey from the manor to Shovel Port was merely seven kilometers—at full gallop, it would take only a quarter of an hour to reach.
Yet those scant seven kilometers made Botar, a seasoned Dusack veteran who feared neither heaven nor earth, experience an unprecedented sense of unease, as though treading on thin ice.
Botar had deployed nearly every reliable rider under his command as scouts, forming a perimeter defense with a line of cavalry outposts to protect his main force. He knew well—the rebels had a formidable cavalry unit that could not be underestimated.
Botar's worst fear was the rebel cavalry seizing the opportunity to ambush his yet-to-deploy forces, shattering the militia of Shovel Port mid-march.
