“Why we kept getting people who had no business being in power in positions of power you ask? Simple enough, really. Either they were brought into power by those who themselves had no business being there… or they started out as honest, well-meaning folks trying to do their best, only to find that yes, power corrupts.” - Bakhrie al Azir, Sultan of the Aselo Sultanate, part of the Hassid Caliphate, after a bloody coup and purge he led, circa 172 VA.

“I see you are as unworried as you were yesterday, Captain Edelstein,” noted Ze’phane as she stood next to Reinhardt the next day. They were on top of the seventh wall’s walkways once more, though at the southern section of the walls this time around. Around them were quite a few of the intrigued militia officers, as well as councilor Bernd Adenauer, who stood by Reinhardt to show his support.

The rest of the council was grouped together a short distance to their east, while other members of the militia and townspeople who were interested in watching were gathered on their other side. Similarly, there was quite an audience building up near the gate, even spreading out to the sides where people tried to get a better vantage point to watch the duel about to happen.

Roughly three hundred meters from the southern wall – two hundred meters away from the closest of the audience, which was considered a safe enough distance – stood two groups of fifty men each, a hundred meters apart, facing each other. On one side was naturally councilor de Kars’ personal entourage, which were commanded by the knight that was his right-hand man.

On the opposing side were the representatives from the Free Lances.

Like the duel the day before, there was quite a contrast in the way the two groups looked. However, it was the other way around. The group representing councilor de Kars looked visibly stratified, with the knights wearing the best sets of armor and equipment of the bunch, making them easily recognizable. The footsoldiers under them instead made do with a layer of boiled leather lamellar on top of their thick fabric gambesons, while the archers at their rear did not even wear that.

In contrast, the platoon sent out by the Free Lances looked almost as if they were cut out from the same cloth, with how they all wore brigandines that prominently displayed the company’s emblem – a pair of crossed lances in black over a background of white, with black trim – on fabric covering of the brigandine suits they all wore. Their noticeably darker skin compared to the locals further made them stand out.

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The Free Lances as a whole often had their armor custom-made by Hogarth and his apprentices once they had the funds to do so, and as the old dwarven smith was best at crafting brigandine suits, that was what most of them went for. Usually the fabric covering of said armor was left up to the wearer, as the outermost layer was more there to keep the inside layers clean, and was easily detachable.

Alvaro and the other former warforged asked for theirs to have the company’s emblem on it, however, partly to show solidarity, and partly to cement their sense of belonging to the company.

When Reinhardt heard the first words of complaints the day before he already had a clear inkling what de Kars likely complained about. It was true that the Free Lances specialized in irregular tactics rather than in open field battles which were far more common in that day and age, but it did not mean that they were unable to fight that way.

In fact, Alvaro’s platoon happened to be one which was still far more accustomed to open battles compared to irregular tactics, though they were learning fast.

They were also some of the best disciplined infantrymen Reinhardt had seen, and he knew all too well that his company had success against them largely because the warforged were too used to fighting only human opponents, and had little idea what to do against units comprised heavily of other races who made use of their natural advantages.

All those were things they learned after they joined the Free Lances, along with some adjustments made to their tactics and equipment, to further suit the company’s methods. When councilor de Kars asked for the lifting of the age limit, likely thinking that it would give him an advantage – and Reinhardt did not fail to notice that the councilor’s right-hand man looked to be a half dwarf of rather advanced age – he had no idea what he asked for.

Reinhardt himself had full confidence in Alvaro and his platoon, especially after the couple years of training they had with the company, which greatly improved their flexibility and skills without taking away what made them so effective back in their homeland. Indeed, the four rows of silent former warforged who stood tall at attention while they waited for the duel to start cut a stark contrast to the less disciplined entourage across the field from their position.

It was a palpable difference that even those unfamiliar with warfare could notice, a difference in discipline and spirit that bared itself for all to see.

It was also one reason why Reinhardt wasn’t even bothered in the least when he heard that councilor de Kars along with a few others chose to spectate the duel from amongst the gathered audience below, from closer in. Close enough that their shouts could be heard by those dueling, if they paid attention to it and shouted loud enough.

If anything, such a tendency to try to micromanage everything under him just showed Reinhardt the lack of trust the former nobleman had of his men. The mercenaries were far more independent by contrast. Reinhardt had handed the battle for Alvaro to handle, and he would not second guess his decision, placing his full trust in his subordinates instead.

Soon enough, the sun rose to its highest in the sky, and a councilor signaled the start of the duel.