Remont narrowed his eyes and ignored the beating in his chest. War drums pounded, Rangville soldiers marched to the beat.

As governor of Letun, an unseated noble, Lord Remont Manticore held sway, but no overt military leadership. He could command the town constabulary, and hire mercenaries, but lacked soldiers. The seated nobility jealously vetted their commanders or performed the job themselves.

This greed manifested upon the basic tactics employed.

Lord Remont rode his steed next to Prince Wilhelm. His position provided him with a good view of both armies. Where Prince Peterby and Princess Roselynde were Lord Remont didn't know. He imagined they were denied entry onto the battlefield, to ensure the royal lineage.

Rangville's chain-of-command applied a centralized strategy. The center of their infantry, thousands strong, moved in lock-step. Two much-smaller units, still numbering in the high-hundreds, followed on each wing of the main marching element. They existed to protect the flanks, and, if the opportunity arose, collapse on a breaking enemy. A fourth massive unit followed behind, a reserve force to rotate with the main one during battle.

Likewise, Wilmand's army looked disorganized and amateurish. The nobility refused to relent their rights to command. So, Wilmand's army composed of several units, totaling in the low-thousands, each one in different armor and uniform, lead by different men. Each unit deployed different numbers, and clear weak points displayed. Worse, the overall numbers of Wilmand counted less than Rangville's. Apprehension spiked among the leaders, and Wilmand's army attempted a clumsy reorganization to match the empire's soldiers.

These contrasting practices resulted from the Battle of the Brothers. When the Rangville Empire splintered from Wilmand Kingdom, they stole away the magical artifacts, yet they could not sway the mighty to their cause. To utilize the enchanted items, Rangville required strict discipline and training. Wilmand tactics centered on essential warriors, and supporting them, born from thoughtful breeding.

Current events proved which endured the test of time. Magically potent bloodlines diluted, while the magical items remained as powerful as ever. Lord Remont mused over this concept. Perhaps the next age's ideals should be the same?

The next few hours determined this age, and his lack of direct involvement abraded him. The Cult of the Circle, the worshippers of Ouroboros, believed in ushering in a new and better age by forcing the long-overdue ending of the current one.

Sir Walter and Lady Elin threatened the plan. Their presence reversed the thesis of the time tested balance of power.

She galloped before Wilmand's army, shouting a warcry, and the warriors cheered. After several passes, she took her place, front-and-center. The egotistical hangups dissolved away, and Wilmand's army solidified. Lord Remont snorted. Where is Sir Walter?

"Ready the elven archers," Prince Wilhelm commanded.

A single unit of elf women, scarcely over two-hundred, notched arrows and aimed for the clouds. The army prepared barrels of arrows in front of each archer, and more still in reserve. Once they began firing, they would rain these projectiles down on Rangville's army in a continuous stream.

Rangville's army halted, centered on the battlefield. Two men, one wiry and one stout, one carrying daggers and another a shield, moved to mirror Lady Elin's position. So, this is General Tybalt's gambit to counter her. It'll be risky without the third one.

"Fire!" Prince Wilhelm ordred.

Bows cracked, and bowstrings thwipped. Each elf archer snatched up arrows, notched, and loosed. The elf women understood their role, and they previously divided up sectors of fire. Unlike human archers, who fired massed groups, elf women fired thinner groups relentlessly and accurately. It left no chance to rest against their harassment. Their style demanded specialized composite bows, temporarily assigned to them by Wilmand kingdom.

Soon after their assault, one of the elf women screamed. Her bow shattered. Large splinters pierced her hand and forearm. Another shattered only moments later, followed by a mass of breaking and screaming.

So far, so good, Lord Remont thought.

"Nix! What's going on?" Prince Wilhelm demanded.

One of the elf archers jogged up and apologetically said, "The bows! There is something wrong with them! They're growing brittle!"

Poetic irony. The slime jellies Lady Elin collected will help defeat her. Once the bows started to heat up from the bending, the wood hardening chemicals took effect. Sabotaging them was a gamble, but it paid off! Now, what will you do, Prince? Rangville's elites can counter Lady Elin, and you can't suppress their army. It'll be a pitched battle now. It's in your best interest to surrender the camp.

"Incoming! Shields!"

Rangville, in response to Wilmand's volley, fired back with a mass of arrows.

Lord Remont's stomach knotted under the tension. The psychology of the two attacks differed. Under an elf volley, targets gritted their teeth and endured the stretched out barrage, but, against a human massed volley, terror spiked. Many died with the suddenness of a guillotine. Arrowhead thunked upon shields, blood flowed, and men screamed.

While the casualties didn't overwhelm the kingdom's army, their bravery faltered. Arrow for arrow, Wilmand's side suffered much worse.

"Damn," Prince Wilhelm muttered. He gritted his teeth, "Mage augmentees, to the fore! Prepare to advance!"

Desperate move. Yes, counterattacking might keep your army cohesive, but you're gambling it all by engaging their infantry directly. If the Rangville elites corner Lady Elin, then you will lose. What of Rangville's cavalry?

When the attendants spurred their horses to follow Prince Wilhelm, Lord Remont kept his horse still.

That's why Sir Walter is missing. Well, it's time I plied my skill against him.