“The battle of Toulon was the last major battle in the Northern Kingdoms’ War for Independence, and maybe the most important along with the Siege of Lastan. The allied kingdoms found themselves outnumbered two to one against the Solisian imperial army.” Professor Morgan used geomancy to press countless stone tiles against the wall at the front of the class, the edges of an extensive map caught between the two.

The map depicted a grassy valley flanked by mountains to the north and south. Flat tiles of different shapes representing soldiers were placed on either side of the map. The ones to the west, a jumble of different colors, formed in a wedge with a reserve force placed behind. They faced off against a larger mass of black and gold arranged in three straight lines.

“As the Solisian approached, the Allies deployed their cavalry to harass the Solisian’s flanks, who sent their own mounted forces to counterattack.” Triangular tiles pulled ahead from their armies and quickly advanced against one another. They cracked and crumbled as they fought, representing their destruction. “That’s when their culture and history showed their effects in the imperial army. At the time, the Solisians had long considered mounted combat to be a tool for the weak hoping to compensate for their lack of strength. In their eyes, real soldiers were supposed to fight on foot, so it was often relegated to inferior citizens and slaves, and so noticeably less equipped.”

The battle between the triangular tiles raged on. For every one piece that fell on the Allies’ side, three or four fell on the other. Soon enough, the last of the Solisian’s cavalry was being chased off to the eastern edge of the map, leaving only the foot soldiers to fight.

“Unfazed by this initial defeat, the Solisians continued their advance.” The three lines of black and gold maintained their cohesion as they approached the opposing army. “Learning their lesson from the Battle of Tilfort, where the fall of their center led to defeat, the Solisians placed their most veteran Paladins in between the wings.”

The first contact happened between the tip of the wedge and the Solisian center. The Allies managed to hold on for just a few moments before they began to give ground and the wedge slowly flattened until turning into a straight line. As the reenacted battle developed, the reserves moved to reinforce. Strangely enough, they focused their attention on the flanks, ignoring the center which continued to be pushed back. As a result, the flanks not only held back against the Solisians but also gained ground.

What had begun as a wedge transitioned into a straight line and now became a semi-circle that surrounded the black and gold Solisians. Jon’s lips curled into a fascinated grin as he realized what was unfolding.

“You seem awfully fascinated by the class,” Aeron said by his side. “More than usual,” he added.

Jon nodded. “This sort of maneuvering must have required an extreme level of coordination. Any misstep could spell their doom. To see it succeed is almost like witnessing a work of art.”

“You sound like my father and his old councilors recounting their past battles. I’ll never comprehend how someone can see art in such senseless bloodshed.”

“Senseless? Even if it’s for a noble cause?”

“If the cause is noble, then both parties should strive to find a diplomatic solution.”

Jon’s mind drifted to all the desert people who now lived as slaves. He had little faith in words’ effectiveness against bitings whips, sharp swords, and the greed that drove them both. Unless these words were the incantation for a spell, that is.

Be it here in this medieval world or on modern Earth, war was not only a necessity but a facet of life. A commander's duty was to win it as quickly and decisively as possible to prevent prolonged suffering, both for the soldiers as well as for the civilians caught in the middle.

With the Allies’ center strained to the limit, the reserve forces finally moved to reinforce it. Given enough time, the Solisians might have been able to pierce through. Unfortunately for them, the Allies’ cavalry reappeared at the edge of the map, the opposing cavalry either dead or routed. More importantly, they now had a straight path to the back of the Solisian army.

They moved at a steady pace, preserving their strength until they were close enough to charge. When they did, the battle was decided.

The Solisian army’s third line crumbled into dust in a matter of seconds. Worse, the cavalry’s arrival closed the semi-circle, completely entrapping the black and gold tiles. The massacre lasted for a couple more minutes, slow and methodical until only the Allies remained.

“Twenty-five Solisian legions, meaning two-hundred-thousand soldiers, fought that day. Less than ten thousand survived, most of them captured to be ransomed off later. This overwhelming defeat meant the end of Solisian control over the Northern Kingdoms. Even worse for the empire, it was considered a major sign of weakness by some of the other regions under their control who started rebellions of their own. But that’s a subject for another class.”

Aeron sat with one elbow over the table, chin resting on his palm. He wasn’t particularly focused on the class, contrasting with Deon who wrote down as much as possible.

“As the name implies, the battle took place near the town of Toulon, which is inside the Kingdom of Lisbleus. And seeing how we have someone from that country among us, I say we begin today’s questions with him. Lord Deon du Bocage, if you will.”

Sitting to Aeron’s right, Deon stood up. “Ask me anything, Professor.”

“As we saw, the strategy employed by the Allies was extremely effective. However, in the more than four-and-a-half millennia since then, few commanders have ever attempted to replicate it. In your opinion, why is that?”

“Because it is too much of a gamble, as proven by everyone else who tried. Had their center been pierced through, they would’ve been the ones massacred instead. Same if the wings had failed to gain the advantage. But to the outnumbered Allies, who had nothing to lose and everything to gain, this sort of gamble made sense. This battle is remembered today less for the Allies’ boldness and more because it worked.”

Jon and Aeron traded glances. Ever since Deon decided to take part in the tourneys, his behavior in class did a complete turnaround. A shame he was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

“I would say there’s also the historical component to why it is remembered, but that is beside the point. That was a remarkable answer. Two points for you,” said the Professor before pointing to the one by Deon’s side. “Student Aeron. Were you commanding the imperial army at that battle, how would you prevent this defeat from happening?”

“I don’t know,” Aeron answered with a shrug. “Maybe retreat and march back home? You can’t lose if you don’t fight at all.”

The professor shook his head. “Your subordinates would have you executed you on the spot for cowardice. Besides, this class is on the subject of warfare, so I expect an answer related to it. Sorry, but no points for you.” He then pointed to the next one in line. “Student Jon, same question for you.”

“I wouldn’t have let myself be swayed by past failures. The Solisians didn’t just learn from their defeat in Tilfort. They were terrified of it happening again, so much so that they employed a much tighter formation. Ironically, this is what allowed the Allies to encircle them. Had they instead employed their usual formation, with only a small contingent to use as a reserve, they could have easily won.”

“Another good answer. Strategy also involves inducing your enemy to make a mistake. Two points for you too.”