No one had foreseen it: the decisive clash between the Beastmen and the province army under Midland's banner erupted unexpectedly at noon on the second day.

Under the Beastlord's command, the horde materialized before the provincial army via hidden beast paths. By the time the roaring beasts entered the province army's view, they were mere meters away—less than a kilometer distant.

Neither Duke Boris nor Marshal John Swivelmatt, one of the three Marshals of Midland, had anticipated such a direct move from the Beastmen. Swiftly, they rallied their main infantry force to form ranks before the camp, intending to stave off the vanguard of the beast horde: hundreds of Chaos Warhounds.

The Beastmen warband refrained from an immediate assault; instead, they plagued the Midland army with raiding parties of Chaos Warhounds and Tuskgor Chariots. Unwilling to indulge these inferior adversaries, Boris unsheathed his 'Fang of Leg' (the one previously lost and found by Avi ) and issued orders to engage the enemy preemptively.

As twelve cannons roared in unison, signaling the start of the assault, Midland's provincial army launched a comprehensive counterattack.

Unlike Riekland, renowned for its formidable knightly forces, Midland primarily relied on infantry. Though they boasted the White Wolves Knights from the Temple of Yuri, Boris held back from deploying them, reserving their role for a more pivotal moment.

Midland's Greatswordsmen and Halberdiers formed an impregnable iron wall and advanced directly toward the Beastmen.

Under relentless cannon fire, the Beastmen's formation gradually faltered. Yet, the one-eyed Beastlord Kazakh waved his long whip, ordering his elite troops to charge Midland's heavy infantry formation.

Nearly a hundred Minotaurs wielding heavy axes joined the fray, aiming their horns with terrifying force at the heavy infantry formation. Personally entering the fray, Boris wielded his runic sword, directing the Greatswordsmen to step back several paces, transforming the heavy infantry formation into a phalanx of halberds.

The Minotaurs' charge almost shattered the halberd formation, but the resolute Halberdiers held their ground.

Midland's main force—Swordsmen and Spearmen—swiftly reinforced the line, seeking to trap the Minotaurs with a concave formation.

Kazakh anticipated their move. Unleashing the power of the wild horde under his command, he presented a vision of the world collapsing to all who obeyed him.

The warband's morale soared as they roared and howled, launching a wave-like assault against Midland's infantry formation with a frenzy that ignored their own lives.

Unlike other Beastmen, the Cyclops Kazakh possessed ample patience and strategy, excelling in devising simple yet effective battle plans compared to other Beastlords.

To the Beastmen, sacrifice was inconsequential, as hooved beings were ubiquitous in the Old World. Moreover, they possessed various war beasts far superior to humans.

Under Kazakh's command, the Doombulls, Razorgors, Harpies, and Centigors joined the fray one after another, finally causing Midland's infantry to waver.

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At this crucial juncture, Duke Boris abandoned his command and personally entered the fray. Leading hundreds of Greatswordsmen clad in wolf pelts, he charged into the heart of the battle, grinding those wild, bloodthirsty beasts into pieces like a meat grinder.

Almost at the apex of the most intense and bloodiest moment of the conflict, the White Wolves Knights appeared on the flank of the infantry formation.

Clad in heavy wolf-hide plate armor and wolf pelts, wielding two-handed warhammers, mounted on warhorses adorned with charging horse armor, they charged into the densest part of the beast horde.

Under the leadership of Knight-Captain Kaemer Ryzefeld, the White Wolves Knights surged into the midst of the beast horde, their thunderous charge heralding death. With their hefty warhammers, they shattered one robust Minotaur and Centigor after another, reducing them to minced meat or sending them soaring into the heavens.

The White Wolves Knights brought a ferocity to the battlefield surpassing even that of the Beastmen. Like their mighty warhammers, they tipped the scales of battle, bringing the symbol of victory firmly to the side of Midland. Under the relentless onslaught of the Knights, the Beastmen warband found themselves assailed from all sides, suffering heavy casualties and swiftly losing their previous vigor.

The horde's resilience faltered. After leaving behind thousands of corpses strewn across the battlefield, they wisely retreated.

In the final moments before vanishing into the forest, the Cyclops Kazakh cast a glance full of resentment and hatred towards the banner of Midenheim, swearing to one day seize this massive and perilous fortress.

"Boss, we had quite the feast of heads at noon. Hundreds came to offer themselves, and we dispatched them all," Rafe said, casually discarding his heavy greatsword and reclining on the grass. "Caught quite a few Beastmen passing by, but they seemed to lose their nerve at the sight of us, fleeing at the mere glimpse. What do you make of that?"

"The battle on the front lines has been decided," Avi replied, half-heartedly wiping the blood stains from his sword blade, his heart aching for the few nicks marring its surface. "It was intense, but unfortunately, we were not directly involved."

"How can you be so sure it was intense?"

"I sent scouts out in the morning to scout the area. Originally, I intended to ascertain the presence of any nearby beast herds, but upon their return, they regaled me with vivid accounts of the battlefield."

"Dang, did I miss out big time?"

"Fear not, someday you'll find yourself in the midst of such a grand battle. Just ensure you do not falter when that moment arrives."

"But I—"

Rafe's attempt to boast of his own prowess was cut short by Thares Rite, whose heavy footsteps announced his arrival.

"Young man, our mission is complete," Thares Rite declared, handing a parchment to Avi . "Midland has emerged victorious, and old Boris has commanded all participating legions or mercenaries to continue pursuing the remnants of the enemy and to seek out the whereabouts of Cyclops Kazakh."

"We've already taken care of that."

The thought of the putrid pile of Beastmen corpses outside the outpost turned Avi 's stomach. "As for Cyclops Kazakh, anyone interested in capturing him may proceed, but I have no interest in it."

"Of course, you're the leader."

Thares Rite joined Avi 's side, his heavy iron boots crushing the grass beneath them. Even in the tranquil camp, this seasoned captain was accustomed to the weight of his iron armor, as if it were the only source of security he knew.

"But let me remind you, the wear and tear of equipment pales in comparison to the prize of a Beastlord's head. Cyclops Kazakh is old Boris's nemesis. If you were to take him down, the rewards would be considerable."

"Yes, the rewards are tempting, but not for me this time," Avi sheathed his sword and rose to his feet. "Let's have everyone pack up and prepare to return to camp."

"Why return so soon?" Rafe protested. "I haven't had my fill of fighting!"

"Just received word. The Greenskins have overrun our camp, taking it for themselves, and have taken any survivors as captives for food and plunder."

"This time, we seek revenge. Blood for blood, tooth for tooth. Let those Greenskin vermin understand: once you provoke the Bloodhunt Mercenaries, you can only settle this debt with your lives!"