From a distance, the fortifications of the southern army were almost invisible. White on white, the wall all but blended in with the incline it crested. Had it not been for the spikes of solid oak in front of the wall and the heads and banners peaking out from behind it, Pacha might have missed it entirely.

“King Pachacutec, all groups have reached the gathering point and all men are accounted for. Should we begin to set up the camp now?” The king had heard the steps in the snow behind him long before the words sounded out, but only now could he identify his attendant through his voice. Even though his orders were needed, the hero king didn't take his eyes off Corco's little wall.

“No,” he said after he had probed the wall a bit longer for potential weak spots.

“No?”

“We will not set up a camp. Instead, we will launch our first attack right away.”

For a while the servant was silent, proof that he was struggling to understand his master's orders. In the end, the bold servant decided to speak his mind and offer advice.

“However, we will still need to wait until the reinforcements from Lord Ichilia arrive.”

No more than a week ago, Pacha might have gotten angry at his servant's opposition, but now he didn't mind. Even if they were as wrong as this one was, he would rather have his men speak their minds than listen to the lies of the opportunists and sycophants who called themselves lords.

“Why would we need my uncle if we can solve the southerners by ourselves?” the king sneered. “Unless Corco has another ten thousand men hidden in his pockets, we have more than twice their numbers. We can drive them off by ourselves just fine, with and without my uncle. If, and only if, we fail to break them by the time uncle arrives, we can use his fresh troops to break through in a final push. House Ichilia's reinforcements were only ever a last resort. This king never intended to rely on them.”

“King is very wise. In this case, this servant will ask the men to rest until King is back from his meeting.”

“What meeting?” At last, Pacha looked over to his attendant, just soon enough to see the warrior's polite smile give way to confusion. “Is this king expected to meet with some southern rebels? Meeting them before combat would only acknowledge them as equals, and give them more time to prepare their defense. There is no reason to negotiate, even less so with their dishonorable king.”

“However... the men are still tired,” the servant tried again. “They have been on the march all day and have had only short breaks since the start of the campaign. Without rest, our attack will be short-lived and lacking in force. This servant is afraid they might not be able to fulfill King's grand vision.”

“So what if they're tired?” Pacha narrowed his eyes as he looked up the hill again, back towards his enemies. “Do you not see that wall before us? Do you believe Corco's men did not tire themselves out when they built all this within a single day?”

His good hand moved to trace the enemy fortifications in the distance.

“This king understands your worry. Although the attack is to be launched right away, we will not be reckless. Prepare a couple thousand expendable warriors from the cowards who call themselves my lords. This king tasks them to charge the hill and remove those wooden stakes in front of the wall. When they do, we will observe the southern army's reaction to our attack. Once we have scoped out their defenses, we will make more detailed plans for future, more comprehensive attacks.”

His attendant bowed and soon left to relay the king's orders. Since they would only sacrifice the warriors of the other lords and thus did no damage to House Pluritac's strength, there was no reason for the servant to object the king's wishes any longer. They would even get some information out of the deal. While he waited for the first attack to launch, Pacha's eyes never left the white walls.

“Now then, what do you have planned for me, my nephew?” he muttered.

With growing unease, Alcer watched as the horizon filled up with neat rows of little black lines, bit by bit. Although his eyes couldn't compare to those of a cultivator, he still knew that these figures in the distance were their enemies lining up for battle. Soon after, they had come close enough that even a mortal like him could make out their details. Compared to the army they had fought a few days earlier, there was a difference of day and night.

So far, Alcer had seen three kinds of armies. The first he had ever been familiar with were Lord Sawo's Saniya warriors. Although they had been glorified bandits, the lord had drilled some obedience into them. Though obedience had been easy to instill since they were all just commoners, they were still far from what Alcer would consider discipline. At most, they would be useful so long as their army was in a winning position.

The second kind was King Corcopaca's new army, the one Alcer was a small, but proud part of. Besides his respect for the king and his love for his home, his pride stemmed from the exhilaration he felt every time the soldiers marched together in drills, when their entire formation felt like an invincible single body. The connection he felt with all his fellow warriors in those moments was something that could bring great confidence in their victory, and something that would serve them well even in dire times.

Third had been their most recent enemy, Lord Rupilo's army. If Lord Sawo's army represented banditry and King Corcopaca's represented discipline, Rupilo had been far closer on the former's side. Just like he had heard in the stories, the warriors were powerful and thus liked to show off their individual strength in combat. As a result, they didn't really care much for discipline and were eager to turn every fight into a brawl. However, the army across from him looked entirely different from the previous one.

Unlike Rupilo's disorganized horde which looked like individual bands of bandits thrown together into a pile of bodies, the men before him were set up in neat rows, just like their own. Although the formation still looked a bit shabby compared to the drills they had done back in Saniya, Alcer could feel the same imposing aura as the one their own troops would radiate. Unlike the loose troops from his first major battle or the greedy scouts in his first engagement, these warriors were the real deal, worthy foes.

Alcer pressed his boots down into the snow, which was hardened by countless steps of the soldiers and tightened his hands around his gun. Somewhere to his right, his ensign was making another speech again about story books and immortal glory, but Alcer didn't listen. As always when he was nervous, he began to clean his weapon. Once again, the mechanical act reminded him of his rigorous training and calmed his mind.

It wasn't as if they didn't have a chance, he reassured himself. They had spent all day building these fortifications; they were not something a couple warriors could just rush past as they pleased. In addition, even though the previous engagements had been against inferior enemies, they had still achieved overwhelming victory every time they fought. He had already been in two fights against real warriors, and both had been resounding successes. Now the spell of the invincible cultivator in his mind was broken. There was no more reason to fear them.

Best of all, most important of all, they had their king - their great leader - by their side to guide them to glory. King Corcopaca's rousing speech before the battle against Rupilo had shown them that their king understood the plights of the simple commoners, that he cared about their problems. He was a real leader, and he had been proven invincible in combat again and again. Wherever the king went, he could do no wrong.

Just earlier, Alcer had seen him walk past his position and inspect their work while he would offer a friendly smile to all the warriors around him. What other of lord would be this nice to mere mortals? Why would he act like this if he wasn't on their side, a king no less? At the very least, Sawo had never been this polite to any of them.

Although Killari had been injured in the last engagement, Alcer almost felt envious of him. Not because he would miss out on this battle and was thus safe, but because he had been given the chance to meet their great king in person. At first it had sounded like a boast to Alcer, but others had confirmed it: Back during their resupply in the hidden village, the king had come to his injured soldiers as they lay in the medical tents and talked to each and every one of them. Even more, he had listened to them and their problems, no matter how lowly they were, or how poor they were with their words. Not only was their lord invincible, he was also a man of great integrity and generosity.

If nothing else, Alcer would fight for his king, and for his own future, the one the king had painted for him. His determination was restored just in time to watch the initial movements of the enemy troops. A small contingent of warriors had positioned themselves at the head of the enemy formation, ready to charge their walls.

“Looks like an attack is about to come, huh?” one of his men commented.

Alcer nodded in reply. “Yeah. They look ready to run. How many is that? Maybe a hundred at most?”

“Hundred forty or so,” said Guman, another of his subordinates. As a former hunter, he had excellent eyes and also had a talent for guessing numbers.

“Hundred or hundred forty, isn't that still too little? Do they wanna die? What are they thinking?” another soldier asked.

“Idiot, it's just a probe,” Alcer barked and began to load his gun. “They wanna see what we got. Let's show them, boys. Ready your weapons.”

“Yes sir!”

As soon as they had finished their talks, drums filled the air and the enemy stormed up the hill. Although they had looked so organized earlier, the warriors lost all cohesion as soon as they began their charge. At least the loose formation would lessen the impact of the musket volleys for them, but it didn't help much.

As soon as the received the order from their ensign, Alcer and his men fired their first salvo. From then on, they worked like machines, only relying on their training. One shot every twenty seconds, three shots a minute. That was the minimum rate of fire expected from a trained Saniya soldier. If thousands of them fired all at once, it created an insurmountable wall of lead. Despite their earlier enthusiasm, the enemy warriors didn't even manage to reach the spikes in front of their wall before they turned around like beaten dogs, leaving many of their dead or bleeding comrades behind in the snow.

As shouts of celebration erupted all around him, Alcer still watched the enemy formation with critical eyes. They might have won, but this much was nothing. In the first engagement, they had taken out maybe twenty warriors at most. Compared to the size of the central army, they hadn't even caused them a scratch.

As he watched, two more troops of similar size to the first detached from the main army and marched north and south respectively, into the forests on either side of their position. As they disappeared between the trees, Alcer hoped the men hidden in the woods wouldn't be swept up in their celebrations as well. They would be the next to receive a probe.