Anyone who doesn't arrive within the specified time will face punishment and additional training; no one wants to experience that.

With the captains' shouts, the soldiers quickly assembled in full gear on the open ground.

Due to extensive training and frequent emergency assemblies, the entire process exhibited a rapid and orderly rhythm, a beauty unique to order.

The high-level leaders and heroes had already gathered in advance, and Laura and Margaret were somewhat amazed observing this scene.

In the dim early morning without light, they responded swiftly, a level of organization that only Knights could achieve in this era.

However, Knights train for years, whereas these people, as understood, were mere civilians not long ago.

Fast action doesn't tell much, as some teams can transition swiftly as well.

What's truly important is the spirit of this army.

Under the illumination of two rows of torches, it was visible to the naked eye that the soldiers awakened from sleep showed no signs of fatigue or drowsiness but rather a strong fighting spirit, seemingly aware of what was about to happen.

The advent of war did not incite panic or uneasiness but rather excitement, as fighting for the Lord was their honor.

The slightly inferior ones were the new recruits who hadn't experienced war; although excited, they couldn't hide their nervousness, easily distinguishable from the relaxed veterans.

Lance stood on the stage, observing those continuously assembling with a serious expression.

Currently, Hamlet's army has expanded to over a thousand through continuous recruitment, though there are some non-combat personnel, including over two hundred medics and logistical auxiliaries.

The real soldiers number over eight hundred, with five hundred veterans, two hundred who have faced combat but only fired guns without engaging in hand-to-hand combat, and a hundred freshly out of the training camp.

For this operation, Lance decided to bring everyone, aiming for some military exercise.

"Report! Squad One assembled, all members are present!"

"Report! Squad Two…"

Hearing the shouts below, Lance snapped back to focus, gazing at the soldiers.

"Time is short, so I'll skip the formalities. We're fed up with those heretics entrenched in the wilderness. I want this action to show them that this is Hamlet's territory, leaving no room for them to survive."

Most soldiers had rotated through outposts and were equally fed up with those guys sporadically proving their existence.

The pent-up frustration of not being able to catch them had accumulated for a long time; now is the time to settle this score.

"Operation code: Dawn!" Lance spread his arms and shouted loudly, "Move out!"

"For Hamlet!"

"Hamlet Must Win!"

"The Lord Must Win!"

In the passionate atmosphere, those officers who already knew the battle plan distributed tasks down the ranks, followed by gear issuance, squad by squad setting off.

Lance ascended the tallest tower at the outpost, observing the army's movements below, his gaze extending until it was enveloped in darkness.

Wondering about the Honor Guard's situation…

As time ticked by, the captain clasped a pocket watch in his hand; when the pointer jumped to the scheduled time, he merely raised a hand to rouse those resting with eyes closed.

No words were needed; all understood, immediately checking their gear, loading muskets, then cautiously approaching the heretic camp.

Compared to Hamlet's Army's vigilance, the heretics were rather lax, not even posting sentries.

To evade strikes, they employed small squads for harassment and guerrilla tactics, so their numbers often didn't exceed ten, with merely three lying scattering on the ground here, another possibly inside a ramshackle tent made of rotten wood and tattered fabric.

The Personal Guard Teems carefully approached under the cover of the forest, skillfully avoiding anything that might alert the heretics, until ten yards away, the captain made hand signals, silently allocating the targets – showcasing tactical superiority.

Eyes met, and with the captain's nod, they charged directly.

The Honor Guard, having endured a torturous wait overnight, finally revealed Hamlet's fierce fangs.

Their unapologetic steps quickly alerted the heretics; yet, with continuous strengthening, their prowess was not to be underestimated.

The captain charged foremost with his shield, swinging his Kite Shield towards the heretic attempting to stand.

Shield strike!

The heretic received the shield with his face, despite wearing a helmet, plunged into dizziness, features instantly marred, blood streaming.

In the interval, the captain's other hand revealed an axe, targeting the protruding neck and chopping down.

It must be said these heretics were fortified by their ancestor, their bones hard as stone; the axe didn't sever the neck, yet blood burst forth granting the heretic time to react.

Swaying with half a head about to slump off, it clawed forward.

Fortunately, the captain, battle-hardened, used his Shield for defense, countering with another axe strike to sever the head.

At the same time, the captain heard two gunshots, glanced back to find two others had joined in the fray, using close-range tactics with muskets on the heretics before they fully rose, pulling the trigger.

Point-blank shooting!

Their heads exploded, bodies instantly paralyzing.

Despite that, they couldn't rest easy, following with a finishing blow to sever the heads, finally breathing easy.

The last one charged clad in Knight's Armor, disregarding the lying heretics to kick down the flimsy tent, merely perceiving a human outline under the collapsed fabric to swing a sword.

With the tent's uncertain interior, sending the best-armored inside seemed safest.

The Longsword slashed the fabric, staining with blood; however, lacking control, it didn't bisect the enemy, instead got snagged, missing the chance.

What emerged was a Heretical Witch, disregarding the severe abdominal wound, hoisting a short staff to cast Sorcery…

"Bang!"

A shot rang out, the witch's head jerked to one side, collapsing; the last team member tucked his musket away, emerging from the darkness.

Each possessed outstanding skills ~

"I'll handle the bodies, you two help set the explosives, you construct the signal fire, stay alert." The captain wasted no time.

Gunfire in the Dark Forest signaled their exposure, necessitating quick completion of the mission.

Observing closely revealed a festering wound on the heretic axed by the captain.

In the preparations, [Corpse Decomposition Spore] was smeared on weapons; unaware of its details, they realized it was a poison targeting heretics.

The captain poured potion over the corpses, soon their flesh rotted and melted.

The Lord commanded complete corpse destruction.

Meanwhile, the others verified the cave's condition, setting explosives in place, stretching the fuse, awaiting orders.

Corpse dissolution did not sway the captain's determination; checking the pocket watch, he nodded towards the others.

"Retreat brothers, light it up."

Upon receiving orders, teammates lit the fuse then ran; after several seconds, a muffled boom echoed—not loud, causing the ground beneath to shake—remaining smoky until clearing showed a gaping recess at the explosion's center.

Whatever happens, he knew this situation would take days for dozens to restore.

"Ignite the signal!"

Task completed, the other gathered the heretics' camp's broken fabric, drawing out a flask, reluctantly pouring a little, preserving the rest.

The soaked cloth, upon sparking, blazed swiftly.

Others chopped some fresh leaves nearby to cover it, soon dense white smoke billowed.

Finally, the captain tossed the heretics' bones into the flames, nodding.

"Mission accomplished; move quickly to Target Three, aiming to be the first to arrive."