The wind blew across his cheeks, pressing Nidesar's slightly curled black hair against the iron chin guard.
His body rose and fell with the warhorse, as the trees and berry bushes on either side vanished like phantoms.
He could hear the warhorse's neighs and the war cries of his companions; 300 charging Nikosaks lay low against the horse's backs, almost becoming one with them.
Behind them were 300 knights charging as attendants, struggling to keep up with their shadows.
Bright red short capes protruded from beneath the silver-gray shoulder armor, swaying violently in the fierce wind and clashed against each other with crisp cracking sounds.
Unlike the previously fanatical Ibe Knights, Nidesar's eyes were extremely clear-headed.
His equestrian skills were excellent, and his courage was more than enough to charge the enemy formations.
Not like those Imperial dandy knights who forego equestrian training, relying instead on drinking Khan potions to achieve a charge.
