What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins, but excels in winning with ease

-Sun Tzu

The chilling winds of winter carried snow through the northern village, Mengus stood at the front of his army, his breath forming misty clouds in the air. Before even coming this north, Mengus sent 5 scouts to scout out the area and one of them found a small army of 70 men near one of the villages he was sent to protect and investigate. With an army of 150, and the village warned of an impending attack, the fight was drawing near.

Mengus analyzed the scene before him, making barricades and hiding some of his soldiers inside the houses to mask their actual numbers. Some villagers also prepared themselves to protect their homes. They were a small crew, armed with a mix of farming tools, hunting bows, and whatever weapons they could find at short notice.

"Listen up, everyone!" Mengus called out, his voice ringing loud and clear. "We don't have much time before they arrive, so we need to be ready for anything."

Mengus turned his attention to the defenses, it had to look like they were just trying to defend themselves, leading the enemy inside the village and then trapping them there. This time even capturing some prisoners. The barricades were good enough to provide cover from enemy arrows, but they wouldn't hold up for long against a sustained assault. He tried to have as few casualties as possible, he needed every man here.

"Archers, take your positions on the rooftops," Mengus commanded, showing one of his army members and the group of villagers armed with bows what positions to take. "Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of movement and pick off any enemies that come within range. Don't waste arrows. The rest of you, man the barricades, and be ready to repel any attackers at the start, and then slowly back up here."

As the archers and the group of villagers hurried to their assigned positions, Mengus took up a position at the center of the village, his sword drawn and focused so he could see the entire battle unfold. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one stretching out into an eternity as he waited for the enemy to show up.

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Suddenly, it came. The sound of men echoed through the village as they rushed them charging out of the forest, their weapons drawn and gleaming in the pale light of dawn. With a cry of warning, Mengus raised his sword and prepared to meet them head-on.

Mengus's heart pounded in his chest as he readied himself for the clash, his grip tight on his sword, this was life or death.

The fighting was brutal and unforgiving, the snow beneath their feet quickly turning red with the blood of the fallen. The attackers tried to crash the village defenses, but Mengus's forces held firm.

"Fall back, men!" Mengus yelled at the top of his lungs. They heard him and they fell back to the center of the village, making a small circle, protecting each other's back.

As the enemy took the bait and pressed forward, their rush to breach the village defenses proved to be their downfall. Mengus seized the opportunity to spring his trap. With a swift signal to his waiting soldiers, he unleashed all of his hidden men, causing them to come out from their hidden positions and surprise the enemy from all sides.

Despite their shock, the enemy fought back fiercely, their desperation gave them a newfound strength as they tried to break from the circle and turn the tide of battle in their favor. But Mengus's soldiers held firm, not giving them a chance to get out.

Mengus fought with all his might, his sword flashing in the cold winter as he cut down enemy after enemy amidst the chaos and confusion. Beside him, his soldiers fought bravely, they stood shoulder to shoulder with their leader, trusting him fully.

The enemy wouldn't give up, though outnumbered and surrounded, they fought on with everything they've got. And yet, despite their best efforts, the resistance proved futile in the face of Mengus and his plan. Their ranks gradually began to falter, until, at last, they were forced to surrender, their weapons cast aside as they were taken prisoner by Mengus.

The battle's echoes faded into silence, Mengus stood at the center of the finished battle, his sword still gripped tightly in hand. A warrior, bloodied, approached him.

"Commander," the warrior began, "what's your next command?"

"Gather the prisoners," Mengus replied, "we need to bring them before the High King for questioning."

"Understand commander. Shall we depart immediately?"

Mengus glanced towards the horizon, looking for something, god knows what. "Yes," he said, "we ride for the King's court at once."

As they mounted their horses and tied up the prisoners, they set off into the cold northern landscape, the answers awaited them in the halls of power.