“For many warriors out there, meeting with a worthy opponent would be one of the best things that could happen to them in life.” - Ragnar the Bald, Warlord from the Eastern Jarldoms of Ur-Teros, circa 31 VA.

Reinhardt would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited that day.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that mercenaries like him – even with his success – could compare notes with actual generals or other high-ranked military officials of some nation. Apparently his daughters beating up the Marshals’ children was enough to incense their parents to personally lead the second exhibition match, though.

Naturally, Reinhardt wouldn’t disappoint them either.

He brought most of the veteran mercenaries of the Free Lances with him, the ones who remained with the Company even after the disastrous campaign at Theodinaz and stuck with him ever since. Along with them, he also brought Mischka and her platoon, while Elfriede hid her platoon in the middle of Mischka’s formation, the massive bodies around them completely shielding them from view.

It would not do to treat the respected Marshals of Caroma with anything less than his best, after all.

Across the field Reinhardt could see the way the Caromans set up their formation. Most of their troops seemed like veteran soldiers, while the ones in the back had the telltale signs of being a unit used to defensive battles. Reinhardt thought they might likely play a bodyguard role for the Marshals, or at least one of them anyway.

The main reason for such thoughts was because he could see Marshall Barca right at the frontlines, amongst a hundred people who would not have looked out of place amongst his mercenaries. They looked rough, for the lack of a better word, the sort of people who enjoyed fighting for its own sake, instead of being disciplined soldiers.

It was a minor surprise to see the middle-aged female Marshal standing in their midst and happily chatting with them like friends, but given her own large, muscular body and the large practice mace she comfortably carried in one hand, Reinhardt realized that the woman was clearly not the typical military sort. If anything, she and her band of fighters had more in common with mercenaries like him.

Since the Marshal’s force was on the front-right side of the Caroman formation, Reinhardt positioned himself at the front-left of his own formation, while Mischka’s platoon took the front-right side. His opponent seemed to wish to break his formation by way of relying on their greater troop cohesion and discipline, at which point the fighters led by the female Marshal would go in for the kill.

Reinhardt intended to break their formation before that, relying on the unparalleled charge from Mischka’s platoon to break deep into the enemy formation where they’d deposit Elfriede and her group of killers to headhunt the enemy commander. It would likely be harder to do, given the mock battle setting which forced Mischka and her troops to hold back some to prevent serious injuries, but with their large bodies they ought to be able to force their way through regardless.

Both sides stood at the ready while they waited for the signal to start, the Caroman soldiers – for the most part – standing firmly in place, showing great discipline as they held their training weapons at the ready. In contrast, both the mercenaries and the fighters that the female Marshal gathered around her looked rowdier and less cohesive, but they were just as prepared for battle.

The moment the signal was given, both sides rushed towards each other at a run.

Almost immediately, the Caroman soldiers across the field from Mischka’s platoon showed their discipline and cohesion, as their front lines locked shields with one another, forming a solid shield wall even while on the run. It was a display that made even Reinhardt give an appreciative whistle, though he also shook his head at the same time.

If they thought a mere shield wall would be enough to stop Mischka’s troops from breaking their formation, they were dreaming.

Sure enough, Mischka immediately ordered her platoon to form their usual wedge formation, with Yuri and Niko at the point. The neat shield wall of the Caroman troops was suddenly faced by one that was far larger and moving at greater speed, rushing straight towards them. Even when the Caroman troops Had their rear lines support the front and brace for the impact, they proved to be no match for the charge of Mischka’s platoon.

As the two shield walls clashed the Caroman formation was pried open forcefully, with some people even hurled into the air by the impact. Those who were sent flying landed painfully, but were mostly unharmed otherwise, as they were in full armor and everybody took caution to avoid trampling them by accident. Within moments, Mischka’s platoon had driven their wedge halfway through the width of the Caroman army.

Once their momentum slowed from the attrition, those at the point of the wedge used the last of their momentum to forcefully swing their line outward, which in turn allowed the fighters in the middle of their formation to rush out right into the midst of the Caroman formation. Needless to say, even with blunt wooden practice weapons, Mischka and her platoon’s members still needed to strike carefully to avoid dealing excessive harm to their opponents.

A lot of the Caroman soldiers would have nasty bruises and even a few broken bones here and there even with all that care, though.

Reinhardt was pleased to see that when the female Marshal noticed Mischka’s charge into the Caroman formation, she did not try to hit them in the flanks. Too many enemies fell into that trap, failing to realize just how difficult it is to even attack a troop that was rushing at full force like that effectively. Instead, she led her fighters straight towards Reinhardt himself, probably intent on replicating what Mischka had done to her formation.

He gave her a toothy grin and beckoned for her to come as he lifted the heavy wooden pole he used as an analogue for his polemace, and saw a similar grin on the female Marshal’s face.