Seirun couldn't stop fidgeting. He couldn't stop himself smiling. He couldn't control himself. He needed this. An opportunity ripe for the taking.

The blond haired man remembered when he has was younger. After his mother died. He cried and wept for several days. His depressed muttering was heard all throughout the palace. Yet not once did his father came. He abandoned him. He didn't pay to attention to him. But he did pay attention to his courtiers. Lowborn who couldn't stop yipping and yapping all they long. Complaining about this and that. Yet his father paid attention to them. Everyday of the week. Not once did he look at him.

That all changed when Seirun picked up his first sword. He would spar with the courtier's sons similar his age. He may not have been the most gentlest. He saw them as enemies and took his anger out on them. His anger building up inside of him from the years of neglect.

But he was good. Seirun was rapidly becoming a prodigy in swordsmanship.

Even the Hero of Almagh took notice of him and trained him daily. The isolated Hero would always never come to the city; preferring to govern the lands directly. Yet, he travelled towards the city, with adoring crowds surrounding him for the sole purpose of training the prodigy.

That's when Seirun's father finally looked at him. He would leave his solar and regularly go to the training yard. Seirun saw his father and beamed at him every time he came. He would often give him tips and spar with him.

That's when I first saw father smile for the very first time since mother died. He smiled at me! He was proud of me!

An ecstatic Seirun took his martial training as if the whole world was on his shoulders. Hours upon hours. Dusk till dawn. He would swing his sword. Spar with the men at arms. Train with Ser Elvaughn.

If I win my first battle maybe father would pay more attention to me! Maybe he would ignore those lowborn and focus on me! I need to win this! With Ser Elvaughn's help and Allure on our side. Victory is assured!

Seirun heard a horrible high pitch noise from the trumpeteers and saw thousands of levies making dozens blocks of squares.

"Milord! The enemy cavalry are comin'! Ye need to get inside!" One of the levy halberdiers pleaded.

"That's, 'your Grace'. Best remember that!"

"Of course yer grace."

He saw layers upon layers of halberds sticking out in all direction and couldn't stop himself admiring them. They may be lowborn but they know do their duty.

He spotted the horsemen in Leidorf green withdrawing from the battlefield and couldn't stop himself chuckling. That must be Alex leading them! Looks like he managed to slow them down at least!

Seirun remembered how Alex told him about his victory. He was proud to have a teacher that knew the ways of war. He looked at him awestruck at his quick thinking. He couldn't resist telling Ser Elvaughn about this and Alex got promoted as the commander of one of the cavalry force. He was proud at Alex. He deserved it. He always tells me to pick the right man for the job and Alex is that. But he does owe me! It's not everyday a mere baron gets to have command. I helped him get that position, that's normally reserved for counts and knights! I wonder what he'll do for me. He does owe me after all.

He suddenly stopped and mentally braced for the inevitable collision.

The young man saw some of the levy halbediers struggling to stand straight. Their arms quivering. Seirun scoffed at that and gazed upon the incoming cavalry. Time to earn my spurs! With this maybe I could surpass Ser Elvaughn. Maybe father...

The armoured horses were kicked and whipped for a burst of speed and crashed into the squares.

Several of them managed to penetrate three ranks deep. Some of them got impaled on the tips of the halberds and had their mounts stabbed.

A dozen enemy horsesmen ravaged their way through the ranks of levy halbediers. They swung their swords down one after the other. Felling their heads, lacerating their throats and blinding their eyes. Eventually, reaching the middle of the square.

Seirun's eyes widened and his muscles started to shiver. His spine buckled and his hair started to stand. He unconsciously moved back his horse. He saw fountains of blood being spilled and heads rolling away. An endless wailing of men crying for their mothers echoed inside his helmet. He forgot his burning desire for attention and praise from his father. He tried to run away. Only to be stopped by a huge wall of halbediers.

I could try to force my self out! These are nothing but peasants anyway! I'm sure they won't mind having their backs trampled!

Cold sweat ran down his back. He tried to push his way out and was a breath close from stampeding a bunch of unfortunate levies. But suddenly, reared back his horse to an abrupt stop.

Why did I stop! I just lost my momentum! Fuck! Let's try another side! Seirun turned his horse back towards the middle of the square and galloped hoping to break through.

Out of his sight, a brown cloaked horsemen slashed at the heir's head. Seirun quickly saw the fatal strike and rapidly dodged it. The sword instead lodged itself into Seirun's horse causing the young boy to tumble down on the ground head first.

Dazed and with stars swimming in his head; he stood up. He looked around at the chaos. Brown cladded horsemen galloped inside the square and beheaded Leidorf soldiers from the behind. He saw the entire front side taking the brunt of the charge and collapsing.

A sword! Where's my sword! I need to fight myself out of here! He scanned his location and found his sword buried underneath his fallen horse and retrieved it with great difficulty.

Seirun tried to calm down by taking huge breaths but it just wouldn't work. He tried to look at the sky but was disturbed by another spray of blood. Bile surged up his throat and emptied it in the blood soaked ground. At the same time a horseman came to him in a gallop and tried to finish him off.

Seirun lifted his head and saw nothing but the sword. Everything else was blurred. The whole world moved at the snail's pace. It was just him and the fatal sword.

Looks like I'll be joining you soon mom. Seirun sighed in resignation and closed his eyes.

When suddenly, Seirun was tackled out of the way.

I didn't die? The young man slowly blinked his eyes and noticed the familiar levy halbedier on top of him.

"Milord! Thank Allure your safe!" He said with sincere brightness.

They both stood up in silence as the battle roared around them.

Seirun appraised the peasant in front of him and processed that this lowborn saved him. He couldn't fathom it. In his world peasants were nothing but weak, pox-marked, miserable things that did nothing but complain. He didn't know why this peasant saved him. He shouldn't believe it but he did.

"You didn't listen from earlier. It's 'your Grace' ." Seirun recovering from his stupor.

The surviving halbediers reformed and reinforced the gaps. They started pulling their enemies off their horse and promptly beat them up. Steel tipped halbediers pierced their chestplate and slowly but surely the halbediers started to turn the battle in their favour. The last horsemen had his horse stabbed straight though their armour and the rider was mercilessly turned to mush.

With foolish confidence they tried to run after them. Some of the horsemen were caught by vengeful levies and but most shaved their horse's armour and sped away.

Seirun still couldn't believe he was saved by a random peasant. His entire world shattered due to him being saved and the macabre he just witnessed. I guess some peasants are good people. But it doesn't excuse them complaining to father about everything.

He struggled to steady his breath.

I should've listened to Ser Elvaughn! War is different compared to the training grounds. Yet I scoffed at him.

I probably should run away! But my horse!

Seirun looked around and saw every halbediers eyes were on him. They looked at him with expectant gazes. Every route of escape vanished as his cowardice was replaced with aristocratic divinity. He had to give these commoners some leadership befitting of a noble, nay a Duke! And, I couldn't escape anyway. Too many people on the way.

He clicked his tongue and attempted to shift his responsibilities. "Where's your commander? Where's the men at arms?"

"They're all dead milord- yer grace!" The peasant that saved him said.

Seirun frowned instead of smiling. He was scared instead of excited. Why? Why am I scared? What's happening to me! I've got Allure's divinity in me! I shouldn't be feeling this scared! It's unbecoming! Damn it all!

Seirun blinked his eyes and gulped. "Looks like I'll be your commander for now!" He tried to say more. He tried to emulate his father. But, he couldn't. Father could easily do this! Why can't I?

Now what to do? Alex said about having a trumpeteer near you to send orders faster. Yes.

He signalled only to be disappointed. The trumpeteers in the square all died.

As if my day could get even worse!

A furious shout and thousands of feet stomping the ground caught Seirun's attention.

He shot a look at the brown tide coming towards them and braced.

"Yer grace! Our lines haven't been reformed!" The heroic peasant panicked and gave him an 'astute' observation.

Seirun looked around and noticed that his saviour was right. He flushed in embarassment as a result. He's not only my saviour. He's also competent. Shame about his annoying accent.

"Reform the lines!" He desperately ran in front of the battle lines and gestured the levies towards him. The levies all promptly held and pointed their halberds towards the oncoming enemy, stepping over their dead comrades.

The enemy roared and sprinted the last few yards and yelling curses.

Seirun wedged himself within the front ranks and was pleased by the peasants resolve and determination. They didn't even need a trumpeteer.

The first wave of bandits reached them and was cut down by the halbediers. Several dozens were pierced. But they continued to pile in, overwhelming the array of pikes and they were soon within knife fighting distance.

Seirun muttered a prayer and blinked. Pretend that this is training. Ignore the blood. Ignore the smell!

He opened his eyes and stepped forward, standing between the pikes. He readied his sword and striked, catching someone in the neck. He used the bleeding, dying body as a shield and pushed it forward with as much force as he can muster. The body slammed and tripped two people and Seirun was quick to capitalise and stabbed them right between their eyes. The bloodied young man stepped forward again and horizontally wielded his sword killing a man and wounding another.

The enemy swordsmen took notice and soon crowded over him. They looked at one another and nodded. They simultaneously attempted to strike against the lone swordsman.

For the second time of the day, time stopped for Seirun. This time he was the killer.

Seirun parried the first strike and thrust his sword at the shocked swordsman, and grabbed his chainmail and pulled his body towards him. Three strikes struck the body and Seirun dropped it and lunged at his other adversaries. Two of them attacked him at the same time and Seirun deflected one of the strikes with the pommel and parried the strike from the left. His enemy on his left stood no chance as he slid his sword on top of his enemy's sword and stabbed him right through his lungs. He looked at his right and was satisfied with the way he was trembling. He finished him off with no remorse.

He stabbed, swung and parried. He was unstoppable. His early cowardice still remaining but pushed out of sight by the thrill of fighting.

"Yer grace!"

The prodigy looked back and saw one of the bandits frozen whilst having a sword dangerously close to his nape. He noticed his previous saviour with a halbedier right through his would be killer. I guess that's the second time now. Both from the same peasant!

"Yer grace! We need to fall back towards the plains!"

"What! And be surrounded by forests! We could win right here!"

"Yer grace, we're not winning." The peasant gestured towards the rest of the battle.

Seirun looked around whilst deflecting strikes. He's right. Only my soldiers are pushing, it seems. He huffed in pride at that.

"Yer grace if we keep pushing, we may be encircled."

"Looks like your right peasant." Seirun noticing there was no trumpeter and had to show by example.

"Men on me! We'll retreat whilst fighting! Not one of you shall die with your backs turned! You hear me!"

"Yes yer grace!"

Harbert couldn't contain his excitement. For near two decades the Hero of Almagh was seen as undefeatable. If you fought him in the fields and he was your opponent, you would lose. You may just concede to spare your men. Rumour mongering from less educated folks perpetuated this bizarre notion of Ser Elvaughn having the blessings from Allure. He scoffed at that. Allure doesn't exist and she doesn't give people blessings. If she did then the world would be perfect and Ser Elvaughn would be beating us. Despite our smaller number, we're beating them!

He raised his clenched fist right at the air and ordered, "Order all soldiers to pursue them! Let's cripple them right here!"

A force of nearly six hundred cavalry limped back towards the hill and Harbert frowned.

"Is this our remaining cavalry?!" He asked with anger bursting.

"Yes, Captain. They're both from the left and right flanks."

"That can't be! We've nearly lost about half of our cavalry!"

The flag bearer acting as messanger wisely stepped back, lest he draws his Captain's ire.

The cavalry commander with bits of torned off, bleeding, skin still in his chestplate rode up towards their captain. He professionally gave a report and ignoring the hostile looks the Captain gave him.

"We've lost nearly half! Half! Of our cavalry against untrained levies and unarmoured horses! No matter how much you give excuses, something like this must be punished! Your lucky that I didn't kill you right away."

"I'm thankful for that Captain." He sardonically replied and continued. "But Captain, you have to listen! Their cavalry seemed to scurry away in a good manner. I think they were heading towards the forest. I think they may be regrouping to attack us again. "

Harbert ignored the attitude and snorted. "If you were a bit more competent maybe we wouldn't worry about another strike." He snapped.

"If they were to attack again they would target the crossbowmen. Now go station your men near them and protect them. Tell your comrades in arms that they would have a reduced share of the loot!"

The annoyed commander went back to his soldiers, fuming.

He saw with great satisfaction as the brown slowly engulfed the green. Slowly but surely.

I hope they take some prisoners alive. Sometimes a beating heart is much more valuable than the deaths of dozens! With this battle hopefully the sun can rise uninterrupted for an entire month!

"Captain look! Men in Leidorf livery has sprung out of the forest!"

Harbert stared back at the battlefield with growing horror. He saw an entire rain of arrows emerging out of the tree lines. With fresh levies emerging out of the forest from both sides and ran to encircle his men inside.

"Order the cavalry to strike towards them. Break that encirclement at all cost!" He desperately shrieked.

Hurry! I wish we had trumpeteers like them!

The battered cavalry rallied once more and tiredly gallop towards the battlefield. They managed to cross the distance unhindered until an entire host of cavalry emerged from the forest.

The cavalry commander was prepared for this. He wheeled his mount and shouted , "On me!" to try to intercept the enemy's cavalry.

Unfortunately, only half of the horsemen followed him with the other half striking the levies.

Harbert prayed to Armoth for anything. He would even sacrifice his love, Beth, for a victory. He was so desperate. So desperate to weaken the Empire. Desperate to exact vengeance against the Allurions for their centuries of oppression.

All is lost! No! Not yet! We could still retreat and attack another day!

"Order the crossbowmen to shoot at the levies attacking from our rear."

"Captain! We may hit our own men!"

"Don't question me! Just do it!"

Hundreds of crossbow bolts were loosed again and piercing several people. They pierced men in Leidorf green, his men in brown and his cavalry. Friend or foe, the bolts hit with no prejudice.

"Continue firing until there's a gap."

The one eyed captain started to see a small glimmer of hope when gaps within the levies started to form.

"Order them to retreat at all cost!"

The flag bearer frantically waved his red flag over and over again. He saw no response and moved back further up the hill. He did it again. Only for no response to be given back. He went back towards the captain panting.

"Captain! They're not responding!"

There was no response from him. He just looked on listlessly. Devoid of his previous assured arrogance.

"Signal the retreat. We'll have the crossbowmen at least."

Armoth devotees are spread out across the Empire. We may have failed on this endeavour but this should only be a minor setback. We'll strike back again.

Harbert clicked his tongue in irritation remembering the other devotees. If they came out of their pathetic holes and came and help us, we would've succeeded! But no! Those damn cowards didn't do anything!

Another dreadful feeling sunk in as he saw another host of cavalry emerging from the west forest. Galloping towards his crossbowmen.