“Two things separate good commanders from the rest: To know when things had stacked up in their favor and exploit the moment for all it was worth, and to know when it was time to call it quits and beat a retreat. Those who failed to comprehend these would remain mediocre at best throughout their lives.” - Androsinus Diogenes Sextus, General during the later periods of the First Elmaiya Empire, best known for conquering half of the Western Isles for the Empire.

“We’re through, get them!” commanded the young Duchess as she bashed the edge of her shield against the face of a Central soldier while she kept the man’s sword bound to her axe. The man reeled from her flow with a bleeding nose, but Andrea refused to let up. With a twist of her hand, she wrenched the man’s sword from his grip while she struck at the man’s nose once more, this time with the corner of her shield.

Something cracked and snapped inside the man’s head under her blow, and the soldier dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, his entire nose driven into his face from the strike. She looked up and saw another Central soldier charging at her from the left, and had just raised her shield to face the man when he was suddenly barreled over as another soldier was bodily thrown against him.

Andrea saw how the other soldier was already coughing up pink frothy blood even as he fell on his compatriot, and that his chest looked as if it had been caved in. Her guess proved correct when Reinhardt stepped out next to her the next moment and struck down with his polemace - an odd, yet brutally effective weapon, she thought - as he directly crushed the heads of the fallen soldiers before they managed to extricate themselves from the situation they were in.

“Roger that,” said Reinhardt, who had apparently heard the young Duchess’ command just earlier. He had not disagreed with it, since it was indeed a chance to damage if not entirely disable the enemy’s mage cadre, which was not likely to come often. “How many of your knights can you spare for an assault, Your Grace?”

“Two squads,” replied the young Duchess after a quick glance at her knights. Some of them had taken bad hits from the magical barrage early on, while a few more were injured during their charge just now. “I’m not taking the injured to deal with mages.”

“Fair enough,” said Reinhardt with a nod. Then he turned to face his troops and whistled loudly, shortly after which several others came to him for commands. “Sera, you got all of Friede’s group with you no? Get them here. Fatimah, I want you to pick your best killers. We’re going mage-hunting. Lars, you have command until I get back. Keep our escape route secured.”

Both Ylisera and Fatimah nodded at Reinhardt’s command, then left to fetch their people. They returned a scant minute or so later, and together with the young Duchess and her dozen knights, they grouped up and climbed the hill as they chased the mage cadre that had taken shelter behind the hill after Salicia’s arrows scared them off.

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A younger mage peeked out from behind the hilltop and saw their approach, yet she never got to voice a warning, for as soon as she stood up from behind the cover of the hill, a small portal opened and another oversized arrow flew through it. The arrow took the young woman through the throat, and she fell with her hands clutching the arrow in a futile attempt to keep death at bay.

Because of that, when they crossed the top of the hill, they caught the remainder of the mage cadre - roughly twenty people - by surprise, as they had hunkered down out of sight on the other side of the hill in fear of an arrow claiming their lives like it had killed the others.

The surprised mages were flustered by the appearance of the group of knights and mercenaries, and only some of them gathered their wits enough to launch attacks at them. Even so, it was far from enough to halt the momentum of the group’s charge towards them.

One of the mages caused a series of stone spikes to sprout out from the ground before Reinhardt, but he simply leapt on top of the spikes, and used them as a platform to launch himself into a jump that took him the rest of the way to the mages. Behind him, the nimbler ones amongst the group repeated the feat, while the rest simply hopped over the obstacle.

Another mage cast a blade of wind towards him, which he simply took head-on. He twisted so that most of the wind blade struck the armor plate over his torso, where it dissipated harmlessly and only felt like someone tried to punch him. The rest struck his left arm, and while it managed to cut through his gambeson and fur, it only left a shallow wound on his muscular arm.

Reinhardt cushioned his landing somewhat as he landed directly on a portly mage. The mage underneath him likely had not shared the sentiment, however, as the impact not only drove him to the ground on his back, but also left him with the contents of his abdomen spilling out from a gruesome wound, as Reinhardt had not missed the opportunity to rake the man’s belly with the claws on his feet.

He swung his polemace towards an older mage to his left, only to find his strike blocked by a stone wall conjured by the mage. As the mage’s attention was on him, however, he failed to notice the lithe form that landed behind him, and Reinhardt only caught the glint from a swing before the stone wall collapsed to reveal the headless body of that same mage, still standing on the same spot.

Ylisera traded him a wink as she struck at another mage close by. The mage cadre was mostly young and relatively inexperienced. Most of them had no idea on how to defend themselves properly at such close ranges, which was a sign of poor training, or of a life mostly spent in comfort and safety.

Reinhardt saw Fatimah and her men descend on those mages like wolves assaulting a flock of sheep, as they struck with their weapons and reaped their lives in silent efficiency. The slaughter had not taken long, no more than a minute or two since the mixed group had crested the hill at most, yet the remnants of the mage cadre had already been driven to a rout.

By the time the young Duchess and her knights reached them - they ran a bit slower since they were weighed down by their armor and lacked the agility to simply leap over things the way Reinhardt’s people had done - the last mage was just put down by Fatimah with a throw of her short spear, which took the escaping mage in the back and sent him down to the ground. The woman then approached to retrieve her spear as well as the head of the mage.

“You’re a bit late to the party, Your Grace,” said Reinhardt with a smile to the young Duchess as she reached him. “We’re just about done.”