“If you see it in plays or hear it in stories, battles would end with the good guys triumphing and all the bad guys would then lay down their weapons in defeat together. In an actual battle, things are almost always messier, and such convenient things just don’t happen most of the time. It takes a while for word of victory or defeat to spread, and people still die and kill during that time.” - Mera Leijnez, retired mercenary.

The news that the Marquis of Podovniy had been captured traveled through the battlefield as people – both the Podovnians themselves and their opponents – relayed the news from mouth to ear. In a way, the news traveled rapidly, far faster than was normal under battlefield conditions, yet it still traveled too slow to prevent deaths and injuries that could have been avoided had the news reached the combatants just a little bit sooner.

Naturally, the news spread outwards from where Reinhardt yelled out. He also sent word to the Caroman leaders, who he had lent some of the receiver artifacts to that they had captured the enemy leader, and the Caromans in turn spread the word as well. Even so, while some of their foes surrendered without much fuss, others refused to believe the news, thinking it as just another lie from their enemies.

As a result, the battle raged on, especially in areas further away from where the Marquis was captured.

The main battle was the first place to fully calm down in the end, as the news spread faster there, with more eyewitnesses who saw the marquis getting caught. To make sure that word spread faster, Reinhards even ordered for the Marquis to be mounted on top of some six-meter long pikes – through his clothes and armor, mercifully – and raised up like a flag for everyone to see.

Between the sight of their liege lord being dangled about and the Caromans and mercenaries yelling at them to surrender, many of the Podovnian soldiers laid down their weapons, at times urged by the officers, while at other times in defiance of their immediate superior. The stubborn ones met their ends one way or another, while the rest were rounded up as captives.

Further away, however, where what remained of the Podovnian cavalry still fought against the Caroman cavalry, the news had yet to reach them. While Publius conveyed the message to his men and their cheers made the Podovnians suspect something was happening, they refused to believe that they had lost and only fought harder.

If anything, the battle there intensified as the angered Podovnian commanders ordered for a full offensive against the Caromans. That caught some of the Caromans off guard as the enemy resistance suddenly intensified while they were in the midst of trying to push through the enemy formation.

Astra and her unit were one such group who were caught in the midst of the enemy right as they counterattacked. They were pressed hard by the Podovnians, and fought back just as hard, but as some of the remaining enemy knights happened to be near there, they were put on the backfoot before too long had passed.

“Why fight so hard?” Astra mocked her opponent even as they clashed spears. “Your lord’s already tied up like a hog fit to be roasted! Just surrender already so we all can go home at long last!”

“Lies! Lies and falsehoods!” yelled the Podovnian knight she was fighting with bloodshot eyes and a grimace on his face. “You speak naught but lies when you cannot win by arms! Cowardly curs!”

The knight Astra fought against suddenly made his horse lunge forward, which made it and Astra’s steed ram each other on the chest. Their steeds then tried to bite at each other, but before Astra could regain her balance from the unexpected impact, the knight struck and smashed towards the head of her horse with his mace.

Astra managed to stab between the gaps of his armor and sink her spearhead halfway into the man’s guts, but his strike landed first and sent her horse plummeting down and rolling over her. She felt a jolt of agony in her left leg as it was crushed between her steed’s falling body and the ground, and couldn’t help but scream in pain.

Fortunately for her, some of her people took down the knight before he could strike at her once more or try to trample her with his horse. Some of her subordinates pushed ahead and fought off the enemies nearby, while a couple dismounted and helped get her out from beneath her horse. It was a rather difficult task, especially in the midst of an ongoing battle, but around that time, reinforcements from the main battle arrived and struck at the rear of the Podovnian cavalry, which made them realize that they had indeed lost the battle.

Astra had to grit her teeth to avoid biting her tongue as her subordinates helped pull her out from beneath her fallen steed. Her left leg was mangled badly, obviously broken in multiple places with the bones even jutting out from some areas, but what made the tears accumulate at the corner of her eyes was not the pain she was feeling at the time.

It was grief for her loyal steed, which she had helped raise from when it was but a young filly back when she was still a teenager until the present day. The mare had been her loyal companion for years, and was so close to her to the point that she considered her part of the family. The poor steed’s unceremonious end hit the girl harder than her own serious injury.

She couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret in her mind. Multiple “what if”s crossed her thoughts as her subordinates helped carry her away. What if the battle ended just a little bit sooner? What if she had not pressed that last attack so hard? What if she had reacted on time when that last enemy rammed their horses together?

Alas, such thoughts would never become reality, for nobody could turn back time.