Chapter 14: The Battle of Grastide

Grastide was constructed on a mountain plateau. As the city's population expanded and exceeded the plateau area, they expanded off into the slopes. The city's noble districts were built on the upper part of the mountain. The lower parts of the slopes were built separately as walled-off districts, and they became the city's slums. The city streets were tangled masses of stairways and slopes crisscrossing against each other in a confusing mess, even people who've been residents their whole lives would get lost in. The city had only one gate with a single road leading from the noble district to the foothills of the mountain known as The Golden Road, which was made with Yellowstone quarried from the kingdom of Antlatur.

Once you reach the foot of the mountain, there are three intersecting valleys with several small streams running through them. These valleys had been turned into agricultural land when the city was first constructed, which was a part of why it had been built there in the first place. The three valleys ran East, north, and west, respectively. The Antlaturs had built their camp in the Western Valley.

The smell of feces hit Livia's nose as she rode on the Golden Road. Lining the street were refugees driven out of their homes by The Invasion. As the second division marched down the streets, the crowds shouted. “Kill,” “Kill,” “kill,” “kill.” The refugees had found room for themselves wherever there was room, building camps on the side of the road, on rooftops, in alleyways, or in abandoned buildings. Overnight, the city's population had temporarily doubled due to the crisis. The city of Grastide had enough room for them as the population had declined ever since the Rebellion. Leaving abandoned houses and empty spaces, but it still wasn't enough for everyone.

The second division marched out of the city gate with banners flying. The crowd encouraged them, and they left with Rising bloodlust. Livia was outwardly just as she always was, but internally, she raged with bloodlust even more than the soldiers. If they succeeded in Valerius's plan, they would win the war in one fell swoop and likely end all Antlatur invasions of their Nation for the foreseeable future.

“The time to strike is now,” said Brigadier General Carmine Leone. Falcus Ormond stared at the map long and hard, thinking Carmine could use his head, but he didn't use it that much. But thinking that was the old man's job, the young man’s was to fight, and Falcus was certainly old. He continued staring at the map and wondered what the Witch of the black knife was thinking about.

Finally, he spoke. “She's too cunning to be stupid,” he told Carmine, the only other person in the tent. Falcone hated most of his counsel; none came up with ideas he hadn't already, but he seemed to believe he should be grateful for them imparting ideas. The only person he continued to have as his counsel was Carmine. Despite being a hot head, the young man could still think.

The entire conversation stemmed from that barely 30 minutes ago, the gates of Grastide had opened, and the Black Army had emerged, streaming down the Golden Road like a black tide, 15,000 strong. The scouts had reported back, confused as to what the enemy was doing, and so Falcus had called a meeting with Carmine to decide what to do. The enemy was outnumbered two to one. Falcus had expected they would hide in their City until the war's end. It was only natural to assume that this was some form of trap. He just couldn't figure it out.

“Maybe she realized we were winning the war and decided it was better to go out fighting. Maybe they ran out of food, or the Nobles of Grastide forced her out. There is no point in thinking about it. We know for a certainty that they have 20,000 soldiers. Even if somehow the other 5,000 managed to sneak out a back way, they couldn't pose any significant threat to us from the flank. We leave a camp guard, keep soldiers in reserve, and crush them in the open field.”

Falcus stared at the map, thinking he was right, but something was off here. He knew he couldn't use that as an excuse. The soldiers and officers were champing at the bit to seize this golden opportunity for victory. None of them wanted to storm Grastide, the impregnable mountain fortress. Even with contacts from the inside, it would still be a bloody and brutal affair. Destroying their garrison on the open field, however, would be simple. Explaining that they wouldn't attack because it felt off to him wasn't an option. “I suppose my choice was made from the beginning.” That thought only made him more uncomfortable.

The Antlatur Army exited their camp. It was built west of the city, and the only way to reach it was to pass through the valley. So, they focused their Camp defenses on building two layers of walls and towers facing westward. Leaving 2000 soldiers from their Cabela allies behind to guard the camp, the Army marched through the gates they had built. Once they arrived on the other side, they marched into the plane where Livia Tallwood was waiting. Livia had set up her formation on the plane and at the mouth of the valley, which would have allowed her to guard her flanks and minimize the enemy's advantage in numbers.

Both armies set up their formations facing each other on the plane. Livia had already been setting up her formation when the Antlatur decided to face her, so she finished first. But since if she attacked, the enemy could just Retreat into their camp, she waited, as her goal was to fight a decisive battle and not merely Force the enemy to retreat.

The Antlatur Army comprised 30,000 soldiers, leaving 2000 soldiers from their Cabela allies behind to guard the camp. They had 28,000, 8,000 of which were from the kingdom of Cabela. The rest of the army was from the 6th division of the kingdom of Antlatur, and a brigade was from the 7th division, totaling 20,000 soldiers. The Army had 21,000 heavy Infantry, 6,000 Light Infantry, and 2000 cavalry. They left behind 500 light and 1500 heavy Infantry from their Cabela contingent.

“Everything is ready, Your Highness,” James reported, speaking in the same bored tone he always used. However, Valerius could detect the tiniest bit of excitement. Smiling wryly at his chief of staff's consistency, he gave the order.

“Attack!” This time, there were no bugles, and there was no shouting. Flags moved hushed commands, and past whispers got the entire army out of their concealed hiding places. They had gone on a grueling march from the Great Alloro River to the west side of Grastide to get there in a small forest west of the Antlatur camp. Winning a battle and then going on a forced march was difficult for the first division. However, with high morale due to their victory and unshakable faith in their General, they managed to complete it.

In the aftermath of the battle of Erinvale, the First Division had negligible casualties, but the border regiment's casualties were more significant. Someone needed to be left behind to guard the flank, so General Paul and the border regiment took on that task after burying their dead and escorting captives back to Fort Frances before the first division set off, delaying them.

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Valerius had devised a plan. The first part of the plan was to lure the enemy out of their camp, and the second was to hit them from the rear with a surprise attack. This was possible because the enemy was unfamiliar with the terrain and the Black's familiarity. Their lighter equipment also makes marching on a mountain feasible for them while impossible for the enemy. In addition, Valerius got incredibly lucky. The King of Redtowers was so busy trying to preserve his army after his defeat at Erinvale that he neglected to send messengers to his allies, informing them of his defeat. As far as they knew, the Redtowers Army was still engaged with the First Division. They defeated them 5 days ago.

So Falcus relied heavily on his experience and didn't bother to raise his vigilance for a potential ambush. As far as he knew, all enemy armies were engaged or under siege. He also believed marching through a mountainous region would take a lot of time so long as the Army had a lot of heavy Infantry. That was according to his experience with normal armies. The Black army had heavy infantry, but its heavy infantry was much lighter and more flexible than normal heavy infantry. Meaning they could travel through mountainous regions a lot faster than was normal. Believing that it was impossible for an enemy forced to be west or south of him, he only sent Scouts out of preliminary caution and focused most of his energy on watching Grastide. This allowed for the first division to sneak around his sentries easily.

The first division exited the forest like a silent Black Wave rolling straight towards the enemy camp. They had expected some resistance, but the 2000 soldiers left behind didn't even bother to post sentries, and we're primarily relishing their good fortune by staying in their tents. After all, they were soldiers from the Affiliated Kingdom; they had no stake in this war and only wanted to go home alive.

The First Soldiers spotted them as they had exited the camp to play a ball game, only to spot the black Army approaching. They hastily rushed back to their encampment and rang the warning bell. But by then, it was far too late. The Black Army crashed into the camp, moving like packs of wolves among sheep, the unarmored and unprepared camp guards. Most of the soldiers fled in panic, but in a state of confusion, they fled northward, southward into the mountains, where only death awaited them. Some were loyal enough or smart enough to flee eastward towards their allies to warn them. However, the walls and defenses they had set up hindered their efforts, and very few managed to escape before being killed or captured. Although most of the soldiers simply surrendered without a fight.

Valerius followed behind his army, surrounded by his companion Cavalry and staff officers. Although there was some slight confusion about the enemy prisoners, orders had already been given for who would deal with them and how. So, he currently didn't have much to do. Hearing the sounds of battle dying, he ordered James Tallwood, “Tell Samuel to enact the plan, and tell Drake I want his brigade to be directly after Samuel and to start forming up on the right side.”

Samuel led his cavalry through the gates, a company of 900 skilled and experienced knights. The gates were already opened, and the enemy had already formed before them. He charged straight for where the highest flag was, the enemy field headquarters. Luckily, it was the closest and not protected by a reserve unit. The moment the enemy saw them coming, they started retreating in a panic. But the prince of the storm didn't wait for his enemies. It was far too late, with no forewarning, and Samuels Cavalry was already in a Gallup.

Falcus couldn't believe his eyes. He received no early warning before the gates of his camp opened, and Cavalry rushed out of it in Black armor with red capes. His companion cavalry didn't notice until the enemy started the charge. They immediately picked up and tried to retreat to the reserve Brigade but were overtaken and surrounded.

The first man to lose his life in this battle was a companion Cavalryman who was lanced in the throat and fell off his horse. The companions were outnumbered, surrounded, and defeated one by one. But their loyalty to their General, whom they had served for years, and their honor as companion Cavalry prevented them from surrendering, and so they died one by one. Falcus joined the fray but barely managed to injure an enemy knight Before he was accosted.

“Are you the general here?” the enemy Knight riding a black horse in full black armor yelled, his voice booming out of his helmet. He wore a single star on his pauldrons, probably representing his military rank.

“That's me,” Falcus said without hesitation. He saw no reason to deny it. He was wearing his full military regalia, which included two stars representing his Major General status.

“I've come to kill you bitch, but if you surrender, I'll let you live!” the enemy knight yelled over the den of The Fray. Although Falcus couldn't see his eyes, he could see the disdain in them as if he were looking at a dirty bug.

“I don't think I will, traitor, " he spat. He had no confidence in winning. Cavalry captains were generally young and chosen for their skill. He was old and at best, was an above-average knight. But a glorious death on the battlefield is better than Inglourious captivity.

“Well, then, bitch, tell Noel that Samuel Magyar sent you.” The man who'd introduced himself as Samuel thrust his Cavalry Lance straight towards Falcus. He could tell nothing was held back in the blow. The lance glowed with blood-red magic and moved so fast he could barely see it. Falcus barely blocked with his shield, but immediately, another thrust came at him. He only blocked three blows before a thrust caught him in the stomach.

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I failed you.” He muttered to the king he had parted with only a few weeks ago. Falcus Ormond's Last sight in this world was of the disdainful eyes of his killer.

Valerius sent his Cavalry forward to buy time for his main Force to get into formation, which was achieved by the death of Falcus Ormond. This caused the enemy to be thrown into a state of confusion. Neither the first nor the second division engaged the enemy outside of their decapitation strike. But a state of confusion and panic filled the enemy ranks without orders from the top, and the rumor of Falcus's death spread like wildfire, which shook the Antlatur army before the battle had even begun. Samuel retreated after charging the Cabela Reserve Brigade. It was only a stroke of luck that he'd been able to locate and attack the enemy field headquarters. His original plan had always been to attack their Reserve Brigade, which comprised their Affiliated Kingdom of Cabela, spreading more chaos before retreating.

Once the first division had finished forming up, they charged the enemy. Only the enemy reserves, a single Brigade, had even turned around to face them. The second division also began their charge. Rumors were already flying that Falcus was dead, and with enemies lining up behind them, the soldiers of the Affiliated Kingdom had no intention of dying. They threw down their spears and shields and ran.

The chaos quickly consumed the entire Army as soldiers fled in all directions. The Reserve Brigade retreated Eastward towards the second division and their oncoming allies. The main line was retreating westward, then northward. Soon, everyone ran in every direction, and shouting and confusion consumed the entire Army. There was no safe way for them. Many soldiers were trampled by their allies in the confusion. So some soldiers charged the enemy line, crashing against it like loose sand, and were easily killed. But most soldiers were either killed or captured, and the entire Army was defeated without much of a fight.

5000 soldiers fled through the northward valley under Carmine's command. However, most soldiers were captured, and there were few casualties on the Black side.