“The worst mistake anyone can make is to think of themselves as a predator when they were in fact, just prey.” - Old folk saying.

While the joint forces of Levain and Caroma had noticed the weakness of the center portion of the Southern Coalition’s formation due to the poor quality of troops and inexperience of the High Lord of Sebaque leading them, the leaders of the Southern Coalition themselves had not failed to notice the same.

Both the High Lord of Cezar and the High Lady of Olfas might not have much in terms of military skill, but they were not foolish enough to discard the opinion of their old and experienced generals. As such, they had placed the forces of Sebaque in the center partly to mollify the foolish young lord of Sebaque with an “important” assignment, as well as to keep them out of potential trouble.

Each time the young lord tried to mobilize his troops, an advisor planted by the two First Lords would advise him that the time is not yet right, filling the young fool’s head with delusions of grandeur from making the decisive move of the battle while at the same time keeping him under control.

Not even they had expected the young fool from Sebaque to be so stupid and stubborn as to ignore the advisor when he lost his patience after repeated baiting from the other side, however. It was almost a textbook case of an incompetent commander dismissing advice from those who knew better, out of pride or arrogance or whatever, nobody would ever know.

Both the High Lord of Cezar and the High Lady of Olfas were warned by their senior generals about the sudden movement of their center, and they looked on, baffled, for a brief moment before they sent messengers to call the young fool back. Unfortunately, messengers took time, as they had to traverse the battlefield to reach their target first, and it was far too late by then.

The Young Lord of Sebaque led the charge from near the front, manic pride evident on his chubby face as he exhorted his troops – mostly conscripts with the last couple hundred or so of the state’s retainer men-at-arms that was left behind – forward. He was so certain that it was his moment to shine in the spotlight, to strike the decisive blow that would turn the tide of the war and become a hero.

In a way, his actions did indeed turn the tide of the battle.

As the troops from Sebaque advanced, they found that the enemy soldiers in the perceived weak spot – right around where the Caroman troops met the Levainian ones – seemed to disperse before their advance. Such a sight emboldened the troops and the Young Lord, and even the fuming advisor by his side couldn’t help but to question himself.

Once the enemy soldiers finished dispersing, however, the Sebaque forces found themselves face to face with five thousand burly and savage looking troops, led by what was probably the largest, burliest human woman either the Young Lord or the advisor had ever seen. Before either of them could react to the sudden reveal of the waiting army before them, the large woman bellowed a command and the thousands of enemy soldiers charged straight for the forces from Sebaque.

The Young Lord could only watch as the savage northerners bowled over his troops as if they were adults manhandling children, his conscripts breaking with almost no resistance despite the yelled exhortations from their officers.

Not that those officers survived for long afterwards, as the moment one of the savages reached them, they would slaughter the officers without mercy.

Before the Young Lord could turn his horse and flee – not that it would be an easy feat to do with the bulk of his forces crowded up behind him, as yet unaware of the fate awaiting them at the frontlines – the enemy had already reached him. The burly woman herself led a smaller group of unwashed savages and went directly towards him, smashing the advisor aside with a large mace when he tried to intervene.

Gerard Dukoz, the High Lord of Sebaque, almost vomited his breakfast out when he saw the bloody, pulpy mess the advisor was reduced to by that blow. Then he turned his eyes back towards the enemy and saw the same bloody mace advancing towards him with great momentum behind it. A belated realization came to his mind that the enemy was not interested in capturing nobles and ransoming them for money here.

They were playing for keeps and he got in their way, like a frog that accidentally placed itself on the path of a carriage’s wheels, with him having just as little power to change his fate.

At least those were the last thoughts that passed through his mind before the mace shattered his skull into so many pieces as if it was a ripe watermelon, with blood and gooey grayish brain matter as well as bits of bone – some with chunks of scalp still attached – raining down on everyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.

His very public and gruesome death broke whatever morale his soldiers had left, and the enemy troops led by Marshal Anni-Al-Bagh Barca in person broke through them rapidly, too fast for the other enemy commanders to react in time. Within half an hour they had broken through the Sebaque formation and immediately split into two groups as they pounced on the inside flanks of the Cezar and Olfas formation.

The sudden change in situation was a costly one for the Southern Coalition forces, as the foes they were already entangled with immediately redoubled their efforts upon noticing Marshal Barca’s success, which inadvertently placed the Coalition’s forces on the backfoot. Despite the disadvantageous situation, however, the senior generals from both states showed their worth and allowed their armies to retreat back to their base in relatively good order as the battle ended around sunset that day.

Which was quite a feat considering that the collective army had taken over three out of every ten men in casualties that day, though most of that were the Sebaque forces.

In contrast, their foes from Caroma and Levain had taken far less damage, maybe one in ten in terms of casualties, and were of high morale following their success that day.

All that combined to make the High Lord of Cezar and High Lady of Olfas curse out the late Young Lord of Sebaque for his folly.