Chapter 27: The Foolish and the Valiant

The Month of Ninsum Day 31 Year 675 Of the Second Holy Calendar

The armies had set up their camp in the Philatrox Basin. This area was relatively small and held little significance for the Kingdom of Black, as the soil quality was so poor that it was unsuitable even for grazing animals. The noble family that owned the basin had considered converting it into agricultural land. However, doing so would require an enormous investment. Typically, the kingdom would offer a subsidy as long as the family sold the food at cost, but they refused to provide assistance for the Philatrox Basin. This was due to its proximity to the Uscan Union, which had recently been the enemy of the Kingdom. They were concerned that any developments in the area would simply be seized, leading to their refusal of the subsidy. As a result, the basin remained almost entirely uninhabited, with only a few stonemasons residing there.

Valerius set up his camp on a hill at the entrance to the basin, while Andrew established his camp in the middle of the basin. Both camps signaled their respect for each other's intentions. Valerius aimed for Andrew to attack uphill, which would place him at a disadvantage. Conversely, Andrew wanted Valerius to come down and confront him in the basin, where Andrew's more significant numbers could effectively be utilized. This situation resulted in a stalemate, as neither side was willing to give the upper hand to the other. However, this stalemate was about to be abruptly broken.

Zach Pickett and his Antler Knights quickly left the Antlatur camp. Zach informed the camp gate guard that he had been ordered to launch an attack at night. The guard, somewhat familiar with Zach and knowing he supported the Golden Stallion, had no reason to suspect Zach disobeyed orders. Therefore, he opened the gate without hesitation.

It didn't take long for either army's commander to learn of Zach's movements. After being caught off guard, Valerius had become extra vigilant and practically stationed soldiers on top of the camp. Meanwhile, Andrew was also cautious about a night attack. However, unlike Valerius, who had access to strong light cavalry, Andrew’s light cavalry had been severely depleted.

Andrew wanted to allow his light cavalry at least one night of rest, so he built several watchtowers surrounding his camp. Like the camp guard, most watchtower guards believed this movement was sanctioned and, not wanting to disturb their general, did not send him a report. However, one perceptive lieutenant colonel from the Kingdom of Monica found the military movement suspicious and decided to alert Andrew about it.

Zach Pickett had 500 Antler knights and, after recruiting the prince of Monica, added 300 knights to his forces for the assault. With 800 knights, he commanded a formidable cavalry, representing most of the remaining heavy cavalry in the entire army. The kingdoms of Esterberg and Emmon had both seen their heavy cavalry destroyed, and most of the knights from Antlatur were killed during the siege. Thanks to strict orders from the king of Monica, the knights were instructed not to engage in battle unless necessary, and Stephron had effectively preserved their numbers thus far. This force assembled under the camp walls before charging across the field.

As they approached the Black Camp, they were illuminated by the moonlight and substantial magical spotlights. This was expected, so it did not come as a shock to any of the members. Any army that fails to protect their camp with magical spotlights against potential night raids is foolish.

Emerging from the camp was a line of 900 black-clad cavalry bearing the bloody crown flag of the Kingdom of Black. A voice boomed from one of the knights, magically enhanced so everyone on the battlefield could hear it. “Just when I thought you were all getting rusty, some knights of the Golden Spurs have offered themselves as training dummies.”

The Black Knights often mocked knights from other kingdoms by calling them the knights of the Golden Spurs. This insult stemmed from the fact that Black Knights proved themselves on the battlefield to earn their knighthood. In contrast, knighthood was generally a hereditary privilege granted to most nobles from foreign kingdoms.

Knowing he needed to respond to the insult to maintain the morale of his troops, Zach similarly enhanced his vocal cords with Mana before shouting. “The old knight of the Kingdom of Black has made an appearance, and now is the time to win eternal glory for yourselves and your family.”

The Black Knights charged down the hill, while the Antlatur quickly reorganized their formation to meet their opponents with full strength. As the Black Knights reached the bottom, they adjusted their ranks. The two groups of knights approached each other at a trot, lances raised and filled with bloodlust. Zach focused on the presumed leader, Samuel Magyar, easily identifiable by the gleaming star on his pauldron, which indicated his rank as a Brigadier General. It was evident that Samuel was also aiming for him, and they moved directly toward each other. Zach summoned his lance, “Lafox Alsairs,” with intent. He could almost envision holding the weapon in his hand, and after a brief display of mist and light, it materialized.

Samuel Magyar was the stuff of nightmares in the Kingdom of Antlatur. His infamy and legendary cruelty had been so stamped into the public consciousness that mothers warned their children of him when they misbehaved. He would descend from the Norris mountains burning, pillaging, and raping as he went. His capriciousness was such that one never knew if he was going to burn down an entire village or kill its inhabitants, or merely rape and murder the women and leave both the men and children alive. Such was his cruelty that he had once impaled 1,000 babies on Spears in front of their mothers and a part of the reason why the Kingdom of Black was seen as nothing more than barbarians. What turned him into such a sick and twisted monster remained unknown. Still, it was rumored in the Kingdom of Antlatur that all his sons were murdered during the Rebellion or perhaps during the occupation, and the Archduke raped his wife. No one seemed quite sure, but all Zach cared about was that many good knights had fallen to him during his raiding parties and wars. This earned him the nickname “the Sneering Slaughter.”

“Old man your rather swift to come to his death,” Zach shouted.

“Humf, I was merely bored when I heard there might be some entertainment, so I came out, try hard, whoever the fuck you are. If you're lucky, you can survive for 5 minutes,” Samuel called back mockingly.

“You're quite noisy for a relic of the past,” He retorted.

“And you're quite noisy for someone I've never heard of before. I heard your kingdom got a new Marshall saint, Balthy, or something.” Zach initially thought it was a lousy insult, but then he realized that Samuel was being utterly genuine. He didn't even know the name of his greatest rival, Marshall Saint.

“You old bastard!”

The Antler knights and the Bloody Knights' orders approached each other. Both knight orders had reinforcements, and they chose to fight each other, with the kingdom of Monica lining up against the knight company from the first division. Zach attacked Samuel with all his might, plunging his lance straight for the man. Samuel blocked the blow with his own Mithril Lance quickly. Zack couldn't read his opponent's expression under the helmet but felt Samuel's sinister sneer and disdain. “You have a nice lance, but you don't have much skill to go with it.”

“Shut up!” Zach responded agitatedly before trusting his lance consecutively. One advantage of “Lafox Alsairs” was that it had weight reduction Magic cast on it. This was not as rare as phase Magic, but it was still relatively rare. This resulted in his lance being lighter and faster; he used that advantage to deadly effect, launching a series of swift strikes, hoping to catch his opponents off guard and slowly destroy his defense. Zach's abundant talent for magic training and general skill with the Lance had always resulted in a swift victory.

“You should improve of your horsemanship,” Samuel said almost appreciatively. “It would improve your ability as a knight exponentially.”

“Shut up. I know you're at your limit. If you surrender, I'll spare your life.” He could feel that he was at an advantage. He had the edge in terms of skill. He knew that he was faster and stronger than his opponent. He also had more magic and a better weapon; victory was only a matter of time.

A light chuckle escaped Samuel's mouth. “You have a phase weapon. I'd never seen one before, so I was curious. I wanted to see what all it could do, but I suppose I'll figure that out after I kill you and claim it for myself.” Before Zach could adequately respond, he felt the gaze behind the helmet shift, and the aura around Samuel changed.

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Zach attacked, although he wasn't entirely sure if he was doing it out of fear from the sudden change or anger. Samuel aimed not to block the blow but instead aimed at Zach's lance. The strike resulted in a clash of metal in a screech as Lafox Alsairs was blown away, almost knocking it out of his hands. Samuel took advantage by raining down a series of strikes on Zach, who desperately blocked them with a shield and deflected them with his lance. But the strikes were swift, brutal, and merciless. They were impossible for Zack to see coming due to their speed, and they left his hands numb with the strength of each blow. The battle had changed place, with Zack on the absolute defensive, devoting all his energies to staying alive, and Samuel on the offensive.

“It's impressive you've managed to keep up with me so far at your age. You have quite the talent. You could have become a threat to me in another 20 years or so, presuming I wasn't dead by then,” Samuel laughed. This was proof of Samuel's respect for the younger man, and he would acknowledge another man as his equal, which rarely happened. “I suppose I'll have to kick it up a notch to kill you.”

“Lies,” Zach said weakly, unable to shout due to the lack of breath. “You're at your limit already.”

Samuel just chuckled and plunged his Lance forward. Zach blocked it reflexively with his shield but immediately regretted it as the Lance pulled back shot towards Zach's shoulder plate. Blood trickled down his armor. Zach felt Lance's arm fall limply at his side, and before he could recover from the shock, the next blow landed on his skull, piercing through his helmet and into his brain.

Samuel pulled his lance out of the skull with a blood-curdling noise of his lance scrapping on metal and bone. The body slid uselessly from the saddle, “He really should have improved his horsemanship,” Samuel thought with regret. He was a one-trick pony with the lance. If he'd focused that effort on his horsemanship, which was half of the mounted battle, then although he still wouldn't have threatened Samuel, he most certainly would have been a better knight. Samuel was a bloodthirsty monster. There was no denying that, but he was still a warrior. He respected other warriors. He felt potential in his opponent, and if he had another 20 years of experience, he might have come to truly rival Samuel. But the history of the world was filled with young idiots who would overestimate their power. Even many more seasoned men believed that they were invincible.

Samuel watched as his men systematically eliminated the Antler Knights. However, he had lost all interest in the battle. None of the Antler Knights were formidable enough to capture his attention after the death of Zach. He could see that his men were managing the situation perfectly well on their own.

The Antler Knights were an elite unit specifically designed to counter the Black Knights. Ultimately, the disparity in martial skill and experience made a significant difference in this conflict. The Black Knights were better trained, more experienced, and far more coordinated than the Antler Knights. As a result, despite their valiant efforts, the Antler Knights were being gradually defeated.

Samuel glanced down at the lance, who had fallen from Zach's limp fingers, before picking it up. The moment he did, he felt it fuse with his soul. He knew how to operate it even though he had never had a phase weapon. With his intent, it disappeared, and when he wanted it in his hand, he felt it there. “I could certainly get used to this.”

*****

On the other side of the field, the knights of the Kingdom of Monica had a similar experience. Stephron defeated two knights of the Kingdom of Black, but he could still feel the walls closing in. His knights were falling faster than the enemies, and his only hope was that Zach would defeat the Kingdom of Black Knights quickly and come to his aid. But as time continued to pass, and that didn't occur. He realized it likely wouldn't happen and needed to go to Zach's aid. Stephron decided to take one last desperate Gamble. He had no choice. Retreat here wasn't an option. His father had strictly ordered him not to engage the knights, unless it was unavoidable. Going out on an unsanctioned night attack was hardly avoiding battle.

Stephron rallied his knights for one last desperate charge. He was aiming for the head of the enemy captain; hopefully, with their death, the remaining knights would fall into chaos and disorder. Initially, their charge went well. With desperation and ferocity, they pressed forward. Stephron and the knights from the kingdom of Monica were far from battle virgins. They had frequent skirmishes with the Uscan Union, and many of them took part in the war against the kingdom of Triton. They sacrificed 30 knights, but ultimately, they achieved their objective, cutting a path for Stephon to reach the enemy captain.

The enemy captain turned out to be a woman. She wore the simple black armor of the Kingdom of Black. But to dignify her status, she wore the badge of a Captain on her pauldron and a golden crown encrusted with rubies on her breastplate. She still had the option of running but instead came to face him, showing she had at least some confidence in her abilities. It made sense to be captain of a regular military unit. You had to have at least some combat ability to be the captain of a knight unit. You needed to be at least more powerful than most of the knights under your command. Otherwise, they wouldn't follow your orders, and your unit wouldn't have the shock and penetrate power necessary to form a proper heavy Cavalry unit.

He had no time to play word games with her, so he rushed directly at her without hesitation. She responded by lowering her lance and charging at him. His lance was broken in the earlier engagement, leaving him only with his sword. He blocked her lance with his shield while swiping at her with his sword. She nimbly dodged before moving past him. She planned on turning around and building up momentum again to charge him. He usually would play along and do the same thing, but since his lance was broken, it wouldn't be possible, so instead, he followed right behind him, attempting to stab her in the rear.

She whirled and thrust her lance straight at him. He blocked with his shield, and he felt his shield shatter in his hands. It had taken a beating in the earlier fighting, so it made sense after taking such a hard blow that it would shatter. He rushed forward, and his horse collided with hers. The two horses both snorted at each other as her horse wobbled. The fact that neither the horse nor the rider fell was proof of the excellent quality of the horse and the captain's equestrian skill. He thrust his sword at her, but she blocked with her shield and counterattacked with her lance, which he barely dodged. Without his shield, he was on the back foot and could not dodge every one of her strikes. If he relied on his sword for defense, he had nothing for offense, and his only option would be to lose slowly.

Its next attack aimed straight at her horse's head. The blow landed on the horse's armor as he'd expected. He didn't put much force in the blow so it couldn't pierce the armor. But the horse panicked and reared, kicking its front legs and attempting to horse buck the rider in panic. He moved to the side and aimed a strike at her midriff. With the horse panicking, she should have moved her Shield arm to grab the reins to prevent them from falling off. Otherwise, she would have had to drop her lance, resulting in her being unarmed or momentarily defenseless. Regardless of which one she chose, it seemed victory was certain. However, his blow crashed against her Shield with a clanging noise, and he realized she had lowered it. She hadn't grabbed onto the horse's reins at all. Instead, she held on with sheer leg strength, which should have been impossible.

Her horse calmed down, and she moved to face him, thrusting her lance straight at him. Even though he was in despair, he reflexively blocked it with his sword. Her shield arm rolled around a second later, striking him directly in the middle. A stirrup didn't strap its rider in; instead, it offered a place for the feet to rest. The rider's feet would inevitably slide out of the stirrup if the strike were delivered with enough force, and that was precisely what happened. He slid out of his saddle, which caused the horse to lack its rider, panic, and bolt off suddenly. As he crashed to the ground with the wind knocked out of him, he was dazed and confused when the lance tip was thrust at his face in a shout came from the enemy: “Yield!”

“I Yield!” Stephron shouted back. When he responded, She pulled her Lance back and surveyed the battlefield. That allowed him to do what he needed even though it was considered dishonorable. “All of you fall back!” he shouted, empowering his voice with Mana. “This is an order to fall back to the camp!”

One of the knights shouted back, having seen him fall from his horse, “We can't leave you, your Highness.”

“You honorable fool!” he thought mentally but shouted back. “That's an order from your commanding officer to fall back! And give my apologies to the Golden Sta.”

Before he could finish his words, a kick from the female captain sent him sprawling back on the ground. “You would betray your words, you dishonorable cur!” She said shaking with anger. Which only made sense when one yielded. They didn't only cease fighting but ceased commanding any troops they were in charge of. But Stephron had to give the order because he dragged these knights out here for personal reasons, not for the country's sake. He had to ensure that as many of them got back alive as possible, even though he knew that was more just for his satisfaction than actually redeeming himself. He had to do it even if it meant being labeled dishonorable.

“My apologies. I had to do what was best for my men,” he said, watching as she continued to shake with anger.

“Huff, I'll deal with you later,” She said, looking away.

“I suppose this woman has some cute sides as well,” he thought, something that was entirely out of place.

When he saw the point of the lance directly aimed at his face again, his smile under his helmet only widened. “I could tell you're thinking something stupid.”

“How is that even possible?” he replied, despite thinking something was stupid. “I'm wearing a helmet, but you can't see my face.”

“I know because I know,” she stated, trying to sound cold, but in the end, she just sounded more exasperated.