“When important people from both sides are present on the battlefield, it's only polite to parlay before the battle. After all, there was nothing to lose, and with fortune, one might be able to convince the other side to cease their foolish resistance, saving time and energy.” - Edasic Bostvan, former Duke from the Posuin Kingdom, circa 405 VA.

“They’re bringing out a lot,” noted Reinhardt as he peered through his enchanted eyepiece. He had quickly discovered that he could still make use of the spyglass function of the eyepiece even while he was tapping into the distant sight – relayed from Hannah high above the battlefield – and combined them to get a good look from above at the enemies.

There were at least sixty to seventy thousand troops on the enemy side, by his best estimation. True to what Rubor and Eranoz said, a good majority of them were relatively poorly armed and equipped, little better than the Levain militia prior to their reorganization, in fact. On the other hand, at least ten to twenty thousand of the enemy combatants were as well-geared as the mercenaries themselves.

Which was saying something, as the Free Lances were very well equipped by any standards.

Around four thousand or so of the enemies were likely knight orders, given the pennants they flew and their excellent equipment. Another five to six thousand were worse equipped than the knights and men-at-arms, but better off then the conscripts. Judging from the various banners they flew, they were likely mercenary bands, probably ones that took the offer to become part of the Southern Coalition like Rubor and Eranoz mentioned.

Sixty thousand infantry backed by nearly ten thousand cavalry was tough odds, given that the Levain force that came to intercept them merely numbered half that at best. Of course, if Reinhardt had his way, there would be no fighting to be done at all that day.

“We’ll see if talking to them does any good,” said Estelle with a slightly shaken voice. Apparently she had not expected the Southern Coalition to truly commit to such an assault, which likely made use of around half of their total military power in one go. She had her horse move forward, along with Ze’phane, whose skill with wind magic would be needed to carry her voice over the distance. She noticed that the enemy army had halted their progress and that several riders rode ahead as well.

“I am Estelle of Zavigne, appointed Leader of the City Council of the Free City of Levain. To the Southern Coalition forces before me: Be warned that you have trespassed upon lands claimed by the Free City of Levain. Explain the reason for your presence here this instant!” said Estelle, clearly attempting to make herself sound more forceful than she actually was. Ze’phane dutifully used the wind to transmit her voice until it echoed loudly enough that the entire enemy army could likely hear it.

“I am High Lord Esteban Dukoz of Sebaque, One of the First Lords of the Southern Coalition of Sovereign Nations, True Heir to the legacy of the mighty Clangeddin Empire!” came the reply from the other side, though the lord’s boastful words were somewhat muted because his mage wasn’t as skilled as Ze’phane was. “And we are here to reclaim the former capital of the Empire in our name.”

“We do not recognize your claim, or your so-called ‘free city’. You are naught but squatters and rebels, peasant cur who mistook forbearance and apathy for acknowledgement,” continued the noble, trying to make his voice sound as pompous as possible. “Surrender and beg for mercy from your betters, and we may be lenient. Refuse, and know that you have signed your own death warrants!”

“We do not recognize your so-called authority over our land and people. We have taken our fates into our hands and will never hand it over to anyone else ever again!” replied Estelle just as vehemently, with Ze’phane’s magic helping her voice boom over the plains. “Remove yourselves from our lands at once, or else… We will show you how far we are willing to go in order to defend our lands from invaders like you!”

“Do your worst, peasant!” replied the lord with a scoff before he turned back towards his army. A moment later, the army continued their march towards the hill where the Levain army arranged themselves.

Estelle similarly turned back and returned to her arrayed troops. She met the eyes of many of them as she approached, and saw both nervousness and no small amount of trepidation in their expressions, mixed together with the resolve of men and women who were fighting to defend their homes. With a sigh, she shook her head and brought her horse towards where Reinhardt was standing.

“If we were to engage them in battle, can we win, Captain?” asked the councilwoman with a dejected voice.

“Since our reinforcements are already preparing to departure in Levain, if we fight by making use of the terrain, coupled with delaying tactics and ambushes, we should be able to hold them off in the southern region until the reinforcements arrive, Madam Councilor,” replied Reinhardt. “It wouldn’t be pretty, though. The land will take a lot of collateral damage in the process, and even if we defeat them, it wouldn’t be without at least thousands, if not tens of thousands of lives as the price.”

“These bastards are really not giving me much of a choice, aren't they?” lamented the councilor with a loud sigh as she looked somewhat forlornly towards the enemy army still marching towards their direction. For a brief moment, she struggled to make up her mind, the lives of her people on the one side, with the immensity of the act she was contemplating to undertake on the other. The scale fell to one side before long, though, as she turned to Reinhardt and said decisively: “Lend me the whistle.”

Reinhardt had informed her of the trap he had setup in the southern region, and also told her that all it would take to spring the trap was to signal his men – Egil and his platoon, who were still dispersed and hidden in the plains all around the enemy army – with the whistle. He had not expected Estelle to ask for the whistle instead of just giving him the approval, though.

“You certain about this, Madam Councilor?” he asked even as he handed the enchanted whistle to her waiting hand.

“This is my land we are fighting for, Captain. My people who are standing behind us and prepared to risk their lives and shed their blood in its defense. As the leader they chose, it’s only fitting that I also dirty my hands at least a little to share the burdens with them,” answered the councilwoman with a stern voice before she lifted the whistle to her lips and blew into it.

Two short whistles, followed by two long ones, the signal Reinhardt had told her to use beforehand.