There were times when subterfuge was genuinely the best weapon. Leonard could have smashed the wards around Locke’s camp by himself, but having gone through his newest Captain meant he solidified the man’s loyalty and got valuable intel.

He wouldn’t have learned of the plot to leave explosives around the hill for his army to stumble through—though admittedly, the divination corps would have likely found them sooner or later—and he certainly wouldn’t have come to know of the precious mana crystal vein hidden beneath the hill.

But it couldn’t solve every problem. Brute strength, at the end of the day, was needed to solidify gains and defeat stubborn enemies. Destroying the camp’s wards was a significant achievement, as it forced Locke to remove his army from the easily defensible position. But it also meant the Revolutionary Army had a short window of time to capitalize on that gain.

This was why he was currently riding ahead of the army, leading the mounted cavalry and some armored carriages to intercept the fleeing General. The infantry and mage corps were marching hard behind them, but it would take them a while longer to get there, and by that point, they risked being in sight of Treon.

And we can’t allow that to happen. I have set a few people to look out for a possible aerial intervention, but as long as the battle takes place between the hills, the Air Force won’t know about it. If we wait too long and they reach the open grassland, we risk getting pincered in.

The initial plan had been to wait for confirmation of Smith’s success to move ahead, but Leonard had seen through remote viewing that things were going well and had decided to mobilize the troops before the wards were down.

That decision was proving correct, as the divination division informed him that Locke had called for an immediate retreat the moment the explosions went off. Had he waited for the three hours it took for Smith to actually go through with it, they’d be hopelessly behind.

Instead, they were now close enough that his outriders had returned from the first skirmish with the loyalists.

“They were expecting something, sir, but not so soon, I think. We scared the shit out of them as we poured down the hill and disappeared before they could muster a real response.” The grizzled man said, bringing his horse to canter next to Leonard’s.

“Good, have someone keep harassing them, but from different sides. I don’t want them to know where to expect us.”

With his orders received, the man departed, saluting.

A strange sort of energy took over the forward group then. Everyone had been preparing for this battle for a long time, and the victory at the Battle of the Swamp had only made people more eager to fight.

With Locke's forces caught in a precarious position, the men's anticipation was almost palpable. The miles passed them by, guided by a powerful thirst for revenge and driven by the promise of a decisive victory. In one fell swoop, they’d be able to open the way to Treon and deprive Count Pollus of a significant number of men.

Leonard signaled a halt as they approached the tall hill marking their chosen ambush point. His thousand riders, a formidable force he had developed specifically for a situation like this, fanned out around the carriages, waiting for the command. Leonard urged his horse forward, climbing the hill's summit to survey the area below.

Most of Locke's army was in a narrow passage, hemmed in by steep hills on either side. It was a textbook example of a terrible position to be attacked in. The goat path restricted movement, and the constant attacks from the outriders significantly added to the already chaotic retreat.

A warning horn sounded then, and Leonard knew they had been spotted. Soldiers scrambled to form defensive positions; officers shouted orders, and a general panic took the fleeing army. Leonard’s lips curled into a determined smile. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

He raised his arm high, the signal to prepare for the charge. The riders behind him tensed, gripping their reins and weapons, ready to unleash their fury. Leonard's voice rang out, clear and commanding, "For the Revolution! Charge!”

A thunderous roar erupted from a thousand throats as the riders surged forward, pouring down the hill like an unstoppable avalanche. Leonard rode at their head, taking Dyeus out of its sheath. As they descended, he invoked his favorite buffing spell, [Halo of the Righteous], casting his sword skyward. A brilliant aura enveloped the riders, enhancing their strength and speed and turning them into an unstoppable force.

The enemy infantry, still organizing themselves, had barely managed to take position when the cavalry smashed into them. The impact was devastating. Augmented by Leonard’s spell, horses and riders tore through the front lines, breaking their formation brutally.

Leonard led the charge with a great bellow that struck terror into the enemy's hearts. His sword, a blur of lethal motion, cut down foes left and right.

Despite their training, the loyalist soldiers were overwhelmed by the sudden, ferocious onslaught. Many turned and fled, only to be cut down by the relentless cavalry. Those who stood their ground found themselves outmatched, their lines crumbling under the relentless assault.

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Leonard personally cut down ten men, and his horse trampled another five. Dyeus dripped with red blood, and he left behind a trail of broken bodies.

By the time his horse slowed down, he was on the opposite hill, having successfully cut through the column. Urging the animal to turn around with his heels, Leonard took in the sight.

Locke’s army had been caught with its pants down. Less than a fourth had made it out of the corridor, and most of it was now forced to bunch up, worried about attacks coming from every side and without a good visual. Despite having a numerical advantage, the suppressing fire from the carriages above had prevented an organized response, halting the forward group from coming to the center’s aid.

A few commanders had managed to retain their positions and shouted angrily, urging the men to pull together, but it wasn’t enough.

Leonard’s mounted cavalry had split the army in two and was now turning around, preparing for a second charge.

Despite their initial retreat being orderly, Leonard's cavalry's sudden and brutal charge had thrown Treon’s soldiers into disarray. Commanders barked frantic orders, attempting to reform lines and create a semblance of defense, but panic had already taken root. Those who had endured a charge looked around in fear, knowing a cannon could fire upon them at any moment.

Leonard’s riders were regrouping, preparing for a second, decisive run. The loyalist soldiers, more prepared this time, had managed to form a loose defensive line, their spears bristling toward the hill even as a few mages tried to put up shields against the carriages. With his enhanced sight, he could see the determination in their eyes and the fear lurking beneath their steely gazes.

The moment came, and once again, the cavalry surged forward. Leonard led the charge, aiming to draw the worst of the response on himself.

This time, the loyalist lines buckled but did not immediately break. Spears thrust forward, horses reared, and for a moment, it seemed as if the loyalists might hold their ground.

Then, a war horn sounded from the opposite hill. Leonard grinned as he saw his advance force—the outriders he had sent ahead—descending upon the loyalists from the rear. These hardened warriors fell upon Locke's soldiers like a swarm of locusts, crushing the mages from behind and opening the way for Leonard’s cavalry to break through.

Locke's numerical superiority, with a little more than five thousand soldiers to Leonard’s one thousand, became a disadvantage as they couldn't bring their full force to bear in the confined space. The environmental factor meant Locke’s troops were almost helpless before the cavalry’s devastating charge, suffering heavy losses.

The front lines crumbled, and the loyalists were driven back, unable to hold against the combined assault from both sides, until the two groups of revolutionaries met in the middle once again.

Things were going very well. Better than Leonard had initially expected. He had underestimated just how deep of an impact the earlier defeat and the destruction of the wards must have had. These men were tired and afraid.

But he knew not to lower his guard. So far, he had encountered and killed a single Expert, which told him the loyalists still hadn’t brought their best to bear.

He scanned the melee, seeking out the elites that had to be hiding somewhere amidst the chaos.

From the front of the army, a significant presence unfurled and pressed down on the pass, seeking something. Leonard didn’t need more warnings and dismounted just in time to see a figure bounding toward him with deadly intent.

Dressed in full military regalia, General Locke advanced with a grim determination, a thin haze of shimmering vapor settling around his sword. The soldiers opened up to let him through, cheering at their General’s arrival even as Leonard gestured for the cannoneers to hold their fire for the moment.

It was the duel everyone had waited for in the last battle and was delayed by the catastrophic beginning. This time, there was no other way for the fight to end.

There were no words to exchange this time. No agreement to reach.

Leonard’s blade met Locke's with a deafening clash. The force of their impact sent shockwaves through the air, and the sheer power of their blows threw men aside. The spectacle caused most fights nearby to halt, though the mounted knights were quick to capitalize on it and move away from the infantry, having been trained precisely to take advantage of such moments.

General Locke was a skilled practitioner of the River Blade, a martial art that seamlessly blended water magic with refined swordsmanship. This could be seen in his strikes, which were fluid, almost hypnotic, and carried the force of a rushing torrent. Leonard countered with raw talent and the power his Light magic afforded him, infusing his every move with blinding speed and strength.

As the two duelists retreated from the first strike, still testing the strength necessary to win, Leonard’s senses told him that something was coming, and though he could have tanked the hit, he didn’t want to end things too soon. The longer he could keep the General busy, the longer his army had to arrive.

From the haze surrounding Locke, a figure emerged. It was similar to a water spirit but much more defined and definitely modeled after the man. The elemental clone took shape in the blink of an eye and then rushed forward, mimicking the last attack. Leonard dispatched it just as easily but was then beset by the real man on the other side.

The clone’s strikes were nearly as potent as the original’s, forcing Leonard to divide his focus and parry twice as many blows. The echo’s blade struck with the same fluid precision, making it difficult to predict where the next strike would come from.

Leonard grinned, more than happy to fight something new. Calling upon his immense reserves, he systematically obliterated the environment around them with wide slashes of holy power that burned the air and earth alike, creating arcs of pure Light that tore apart the ground and sent shockwaves through the battlefield.

Enemy soldiers standing a hundred feet away were hurtled back, forcing the General to up the ante to protect them. But every attack shook the man’s very bones, and it obviously cost him dearly to keep the echo going, as it was forcefully dispersed with every clash. Streams of water rose to meet the Light, creating a dazzling display of elemental power as the two forces clashed and vaporized into steam.

For several minutes, their duel raged on. The battle around them had turned into a stalemate, with mages halting the worst cannon barrages and the loyalist soldiers managing to create shield walls and leverage their firearms to force Leonard’s cavalry back, who were wary of the hails of bullets and only occasionally able to charge thanks to their buff. Temporarily unable to break through, they circled like predatory wolves, waiting for the right moment to strike again.

Leonard thus decided to change his plan. He had initially wanted to stall for long enough to allow his army to join, but the longer the duel dragged on, the greater the risk of losing momentum and the more Locke’s army had to reorganize. He decided it was time to up the ante.

With a roar, he channeled even more of his formidable power into his sword. The blade shone with an almost blinding light, and he brought it crashing down with a mighty swing. Locke immediately abandoned his companion spell, pulling the water around himself like a shield. The sheer power of the blow instantly shattered the water clone, the residual magic dissipating in a tremendous explosion of steam. A powerful gust of wind blew it away as Leonard swung again.

Locke barely had time to raise his blade in defense. The impact was cataclysmic, sending scores of men to the ground. Despite its significant enchantments, Locke's sword was immediately shattered by the Dyeus, and he, with it.

The battlefield fell silent, and the sound of clashing swords and battle cries was replaced by soldiers' heavy breathing and the moans of the wounded.

At that precise moment, a new horn echoed through the pass. The Revolutionary Army had arrived. It was over.