I’d finally had that table put in.

It was solid oak, and large enough to take up most of the floor space, with a few chairs that had been shuffled aside. At the moment, it was covered by a map of the city and surrounding area.

Standing around it were me, Duke Kalvin, and two of his Generals—Karron and Melric. Melric was an older human with thinning grey hair and a thick moustache, his face permanently set into a scowl. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his presence filled the room.

Karron was more casual, wearing her jacket open and keeping a relaxed stance. She had teal hair falling to her hips, and though she had to look up to meet my eyes, it still made me want to avert my gaze. Intimidation, check.

Duke Kalvin pushed wooden miniatures across the map, toward Larm. It had been a week since the non-battle in Asha, and Cannara’s network had informed us of another army—this one twice as large—due to march on my capital.

The information was supposedly secret, but it seemed a fire had lit under Cannara after her failure to protect the Verards.

Well, it had been my failure, but she didn’t see it that way.

In any case, the consensus had been that we should meet them with equal force at the border.

I’d allowed them to advance unimpeded.

Of course, I hadn’t left my settlements undefended, but a scorched earth tactic benefited Aleister as little as it did me, so I wasn’t worried.

Actually, that was a lie, but it was a calculated risk.

In Ruler View, I could see the huge force crawl toward my city without anything in the way.

I leaned over and shifted one of the miniatures.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Melric, his tone clipped. “If it fails, we’ll be placed under siege.”

“Or perhaps they will move on and attack the countryside.” Karron scrutinised the map.

“We can barely match their numbers and still defend other key points,” said Duke Kalvin. “It is risky, but the best plan we have.”

The enemy numbered around ten thousand, and while we could muster that number, it would lead to a long, bloody melee ending in a field of death. If Ribera had fifty thousand citizens, these plus the previous force made up thirty percent of the population.

Aleister was going for broke here.

I didn’t want to be responsible for so much loss. Another ruler might not have thought twice, and maybe I was being soft, or naive, but Konstantin’s expression in that moment had made my decision for me.

“If it doesn’t work,” I said, “we can have our troops fall back to the bridge, and take away their numbers advantage. In the worst case, we can just destroy it.”

“Destroy the bridge?” Melric’s eyebrows shot up. “With all due respect, sire, have you thought any of this through?”

I scoffed. “I’ve been doing nothing but thinking.” The Larm Bridge was the only route over the River Zambhir, which blocked the Riberans’ approach for miles. If they wanted to lay siege, they’d have to take it.

However, destroying it would also mean giving up an important route in and out of the city. Aleister had probably considered that when sending such a huge army. He wanted to limit my options.

“Then walk us through your logic, please,” said Karron, her tone demure but sharp. “Because I cannot, for the life of me, understand how you expect this to work.”

Smirking, I straightened. “Duke Kalvin, who leads the enemy?”

“Baron Jakron and Earl Selvig, sire.”

“And where will they be marching, in relation to the rest of their troops?”

“A cautious man would march in the middle.”

“But?”

“But they are not cautious men. There are benefits to standing with your troops, but in return, you become vulnerable.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“So,” I said, “we have the geographical advantage, and the enemy commanders are both right where we want them to be. Seems pretty simple, no?”

Melric grunted, and Karron shot me an approving glance.

“I still have misgivings,” said Melric, stroking his moustache.

“This plan is a painstaking effort undertaken by myself and the King,” said Duke Kalvin. “Have faith.”

Honestly, he gave me too much credit. The general idea was mine, but I was horrible at arranging details, and without him, it would all fall apart.

“I certainly have faith in you,” he replied, “but the lad has yet to prove himself in any meaningful capacity.”

“Markus!” Duke Kalvin wrinkled his nose, red-faced.

I waved him down. “Calm down, Relas. He has every right to express his opinion; isn’t it because it’s valuable that he’s here in the first place?”

“How nauseatingly reasonable,” said Karron, surveying the map again. “I must say, the ‘skirmish’ in Asha was rather impressive—I trust this will end similarly.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her. She ignored me.

“Very well,” said Melric. “How long until contact?”

Checking Ruler View, I sighed. The giant marker was almost upon us.

“It’s showtime,” I said, and switched to [Combat View].

***

From Shia’s vantage, everything looked so tiny. But the column of men in Ribera colours was still imposing, especially considering only Hana waited at the mouth of the bridge.

At the front, a pair of men rode in noble robes and plate armour, their horses sleek and bulky. They carried ornate swords, weapons that would be more at home above a mantelpiece than on a battlefield.

I tried to smirk, but it wasn’t my body. After Konstantin’s loss, I’d vowed to make sure none of my other friends had to feel that way again, but it was difficult. Holding all these lives on my shoulders was crippling.

When I’d tried to check on him, he had—respectfully, of course—told me to bugger off. I hadn’t pushed. Hopefully, avenging his family would give him some form of closure. If not, at least I could say I’d done something.

The red ‘x’ in my overlay split into several smaller groups, so multitudinous it made my head spin. Technically, it was Shia’s head, but I didn’t know if it transferred.

I still hadn’t worked it all out.

I clicked on the archers I had stationed on the wall, commanding them to ready. Three commands were available to me—attack, move, and ready—which wasn’t extensive, but it was enough for now.

Focusing on Hana, I ordered her to move toward the oncoming press. Shia received the same. I’d use [Conference Call] to allow them easier communication, but I doubted they’d need it.

As they came into view of the opposition, uproarious laughter spread through their ranks, a few of the soldiers relaxing, and the commanders jeered at us. Let them mock. I wanted them to think their victory was assured, then I’d rip the carpet from underneath them.

This wasn’t a game, and these were real people with real feelings. Therefore, the most important part of a battle wasn’t tactics, or strategy, or troop numbers. No.

It was morale.

The mood of the soldiers affected their performance, and even whether they were willing to fight. Victory wasn’t attained by slaughtering the enemy or capturing territory, but by breaking the will of the opposition.

Do that, and I’d have free reign.

Hana stopped a hundred feet in front of the bridge, the river lapping at its banks behind her. These were sloped, with plenty of space for a person to lie down.

Only fifty feet remained between both sides. Ten thousand versus two.

It was time.

“Charge!” One of the enemy leaders held his sword aloft, digging his heels and pushing his horse onward. The other rode alongside him, and the infantry took off in an uncoordinated sprint toward us, Mages and archers on the back line readying their attacks.

Hana stood firm.

A lecherous grin broke the lips of the man who’d shouted, his helm shining under the sun as he raised his weapon to strike. Next to him, the other commander—a younger man with a baby-face—clenched his jaw.

I felt bad about it, but in the end, Aleister hadn’t given me any other choice. None that wouldn’t end in crimson grass to the horizon, anyway.

Now.

Hana blurred, and shock overtook the expressions of the army. The commander’s grin faltered, and it was the last movement his face made before his head left his shoulders, rolling along the ground.

Twisting, Hana lashed out at lightning-speed against the young one, but somehow, he managed to raise his sword to block.

Then, soldiers swarmed her, eager to protect their remaining leader.

A spray of blood erupted as she sliced through them all like paper, gasps and groans ringing out, and they all fell.

The commander turned his horse around.

It started in a trot, trampling the closest troops, but the blockage was so immense its speed slowed to a crawl.

Hana stabbed him in the back.

Her sword jutted from his chest as gore splattered over his nearest allies, their eyes wide and jaws hanging.

The column faltered, looking at each other in a frenzy, desperately trying to find someone to follow.

Retreating, Hana, blocked a few spear strikes, but none really had any force behind them.

“Do not fear!” yelled a voice from within the melee. “It’s only one woman! Once we beat her, we take Larm!”

The soldiers cheered and continued their charge.

Oh, that’s what they thought, was it?

I checked my overlay, commanding my troops to move, and two thousand men in Larm crimson ascended from the riverbank.