It was a resplendent summer morning, the sky an unblemished canvas of blue. The Slave King observed his army as they prepared for a brief march towards the final confrontation of his campaign. As strategized the night before, his elite forces had slipped into the forest, advancing under the cover of foliage to flank the United Freeholds army and swiftly scatter their ranks.
A rare smile graced the Slave King's face, as he stood surrounded by his staunchest guards and two of his oldest friends and party members. An hour of marching had already passed, and in just another, they would reach their destination. However, the mage who had remained with the main force reported that his reconnaissance spell had been severed, leaving him unable to monitor the enemy's movements.
No one was taken aback by this development; if anything, the fact that it had taken this long was a reassuring sign that the battle ahead would be a manageable one. The mage accompanying the Slave King would ensure that the enemy's mage would be rendered ineffective, allowing their armies to close in and engage in hand-to-hand combat. In battles where one side lacked a mage, defeat was almost certain, as mages possessed the power to obliterate vast numbers of low-ranking warriors with their area magic.
Despite this, the Slave King remained unperturbed. He was confident that his flanking force would bolster his main army, routing the enemy with ease before hunting down and capturing or killing every last opponent. His only lingering concern was the whereabouts of the elusive Ranger. Less fearful of the Ranger causing harm than escaping his clutches.
A gentle summer breeze wafted through the air as the Slave King finally caught sight of the enemy. Arrayed before him was an impressive line of soldiers, their helmets peeking over the curved large shields that all were holding. However, as he drew closer, the Slave King struggled to stifle his laughter upon realizing the truth of their formation.
The United Freeholds army had set up a shield wall only four men deep, which filled the Slave King with confidence. He believed his troops would easily crash through the thin defense and send the enemy fleeing within a mere ten minutes.
The disparity in armor quality was striking. In the Slave King's army, even the least-armored warriors were outfitted with a full gambeson and hardened leather pieces protecting their chest and other vulnerable areas, topped with metal helms. The majority of his soldiers were clad in chainmail, while the most elite among the regular warriors boasted plate armor pieces.
In contrast, the United Freeholds legion could only match their opponents in terms of helmets. Most of their soldiers wore some form of shoulder armor, but fewer had substantial chest protection. Nevertheless, a handful were decently armored, with the best-equipped positioned in the front row and the least protected at the rear.
When it came to weaponry and shields, the United Freeholds legion displayed uniformity and excellent quality. The Slave King's army, on the other hand, embraced a more diverse approach to combat, employing a wide variety of weapons. Soldiers were free to choose their own arms, but the majority opted for a one-handed weapon paired with a shield.
The United Freeholds legion had positioned their lines between a hill and a road. A winding river traced its path behind the hill, and a dense forest stood about 100 meters from the road. They were not far from their camp, and it seemed as though they had managed to set up their defenses at the last possible moment. On the road stood a lone figure clad in full armor, wielding a two-handed sword without a shield.
Positioned parallel to the legion, yet far enough away to avoid being drawn into battle, the Slave King instantly identified the figure as the commanding noble. He couldn't help but scoff at the sight of the man still adorned with jewelry despite wearing armor. Though he sensed the noble's strength, the Slave King was confident he could overcome him.
Orders were issued, and the Slave King's army mirrored the United Freeholds legion's formation, separated by only a few hundred meters. The Slave King and Rich observed as their respective mages approached each other on the road and began exchanging spells. The outcome of this duel would prove crucial, as the losing side would suffer greatly if the victor's mage unleashed area spells upon their forces.
Glenn had never imagined his life unfolding in such a manner. Upon graduating from the Academy and receiving a job offer from a seemingly noble lord, he believed he had achieved his dreams. However, his elation turned to apprehension when he discovered he was hired to protect the noble's son. Upon meeting the young man and witnessing his less than admirable personality, Glenn longed to burn his contract, but the penalties were too severe. Now, as a respected mage in a fledgling nation, he was determined to prevent it from falling into enemy hands.
As the mages drew near, they recognized one another. They had been classmates at the Mage Academy and had graduated together. Though friends during their time at the Academy, they were not particularly close. Now, after 20 years apart, they found themselves pitted against each other in battle. Neither hesitated for even a moment before engaging in their duel.
Both Glenn and the Slave King's mage favored fire magic. The duel began with swift volleys of fireballs that twisted and curved, attempting to bypass the defenses conjured by the opposing mage. The exchange was rapid, and while Glenn appeared to have a slight advantage, it wasn't enough to secure victory. Gradually, they incorporated different magical elements, such as entangling vines to unbalance or freezing mist to slow their opponent.
The duel was as mesmerizing as it was deadly, and all who bore witness were awestruck. After about two minutes, both mages ceased their assault, retreating slightly and moving towards the forest. They would remain out of the fray, but ever vigilant for an opportunity to eliminate the other.
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The Slave King felt a twinge of disappointment, but this outcome had been anticipated. His soldiers stood ready, their fervor punctuated by sporadic war cries. As the horns sounded, the Slave King's army surged forward, picking up speed. They couldn't sprint too quickly through the knee-high grass, but they were confident that even at their current pace, breaking the legion's formation would be effortless.
Rich observed the unfolding scene with a keen eye. He noted some of the advancing soldiers stumbling into the simple traps that had been laid out. As he assessed the military forces through his command ability, none had yet received the boosts that he could provide.
Maintaining those boosts required energy, and Rich was currently concealing his true power. He had six different combat units listed, with the legion being the largest. He observed the Slave King advancing as well, but only to a position that would prevent him from joining the fray.
The Slave King was accompanied by 12 formidable warriors, making the upcoming battle a challenging one for Rich. Prepared to use every resource at his disposal, he watched the enemy charge forward, a chaotic mass of soldiers shouting war cries in an attempt to intimidate the legion. In contrast, the legion remained silent and steadfast, their shields unwavering.
As the two armies closed to within mere meters of each other, the legionnaires suddenly grew stronger and their equipment more durable. Anyone capable of perceiving energy would have recognized the immense boost the entire legion had just received. The Slave King and a few others around him noticed the change and were instantly filled with concern. But it was too late to halt the impending collision of forces.
As the armies clashed, the legion held firm. Their entire line was pushed back, but this was anticipated. Swift spear thrusts emerged from behind the legion's shields, aimed at the enemies directly in front of them.
However, the armor of the Slave King's army proved to be too effective, as only a few soldiers suffered severe injuries, with the majority still able to fight. The trained Knights, interspersed among the legion, utilized their defensive and offensive abilities to counter the enemy's advances, and the stalemate persisted.
The Slave King grew anxious, as he hadn't anticipated this turn of events. He couldn't discern who was providing the boost to the opposing troops. Though he observed increased energy usage from the noble, it didn't seem sufficient to account for such a significant boost. Nevertheless, after just two minutes, he noticed one flank of the legion, towards the hill, beginning to buckle.
A smile returned to his face, and he saw similar expressions among those around him. The brutal fighting continued, yet both armies inflicted minimal damage upon each other. Over the next 15 minutes, one side of the legion had collapsed so much that they now fought diagonally from their original position.
The Slave King couldn't comprehend why the legion's shield wall remained so robust while one side had been pushed back so dramatically. One side of his army was stretched thin, while the side closer to the road remained tightly packed, appearing to make no progress. He glanced towards the forest, puzzled as to why his elite forces hadn't engaged.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw the noble doing something unexpected. He was removing his jewelry, dropping it to the ground without a care. Once Rich had finished, he retrieved his two-handed sword that had been resting against his shoulder and held its point upwards towards the sky. "I have a simple announcement to make," Rich proclaimed, and with his abilities, all could hear.
As Rich gathered energy into his sword, the Slave King assumed he was activating some sort of empowerment ability. In reality, Rich was powering up his flying slash, disguising it as an empowerment ability he had witnessed during a raid. "I will kill you, Slave King," Rich Dirt announced.
The Slave King began to laugh, but before he could respond, Rich's energy erupted, and his energy started to burn. Now everyone knew that he was at first rank and a powerful energy user. The burning effect his energy produced allowed him to use his full power in the low-energy area, while the Slave King and his party would be weakened.
Rich activated all his buffs within his command ability, and moments later, explosions and flashes of color erupted in the forest. The Slave King glanced towards the forest, confused, but as soon as he took his eyes off Rich, he felt a surge of energy coming from that direction.
Channeling his inner baseball player, Rich swung his sword like a bat. The flying slash that emerged from his swing tore through the Slave King's army, cutting down several dozen soldiers before finally coming to a halt.
Before the Slave King could react in fury, Rich used his movement ability to appear before the guards. Though most were quick enough to react and ready their defenses, Rich's single slash managed to kill one of the energy weavers at the Slave King's side.
In the forest, the explosions and flashes of light continued unabated. The elite of the United Freeholds had lain in ambush, prepared to engage the Slave King's forces. When they received the order to attack from Rich's command ability, they unleashed their full might.
The loss of the Slave King's mage was a heavy blow, leaving only one alive who was swiftly engaged by the second mage of the United Freeholds. The ambush had cost the Slave King's elite many lives, and with each passing moment, the United Freeholds' elite forces pressed their advantage.
Among the United Freeholds forces in the forest was a pack of wolves, working together to take down the Slave King's elite one by one. They were the deadliest and most effective group within the forest, and their ferocity helped the United Freeholds elite gain a significant advantage.
Deadly abilities flew in every direction, and many warriors fell to attacks that seemed to come out of nowhere. The battle was far from over, but it appeared that the United Freeholds had the upper hand.
As the forest ambush started, Rich ordered the unit with the goblins to advance. The eight members of the unit sprinted out of the forest towards the river, carrying improved portable bridges on their backs. They quickly outpaced the goblins and had the foldable bridges set up just as the goblins reached the river, allowing them to cross without pause. Soon, the goblins were charging up the hill to a waiting position that Rich had designated.
The goblins, now in position on the hill, gathered around the piles of extra javelins, ready to launch them at their enemies. They patiently waited for Rich to issue the command through his ability, knowing that timing would be crucial in maximizing their impact on the battle.
Meanwhile, behind the legion, a group of soldiers in a large tent made their final preparations, awaiting orders to move into position. Among them was Francis, who stood ready to pull a large cart laden with two ballistae and a surprise that made everyone in the tent turn pale when they imagined what it could do.