The sun began to set, staining the sky deep crimson. The thunder of hooves shook the valley floor as a thousand soldiers arrived, led by the Great Commander, Keith Bortos.
At the edge of the valley stood a woman, her face radiating confidence.
As the thousand-strong army entered the territory under Bortos's command, she remained in the center of the valley—calm and composed, her black hair fluttering in the evening breeze. Behind her, two hundred revolutionary soldiers stood in perfect formation. She showed not a flicker of fear.
"Selia Argan, surrender and give yourself up to the Emperor!" Bortos's voice echoed.
Selia met his gaze coldly. "I thought you were the most loyal man to the Argan family, Uncle... turns out you're just another traitor." Her gaze was sharp, freezing, and merciless.
"Surrender, Princess. We do not wish for bloodshed here. This is a duty to the state; it does not mean we support the current Emperor," Bortos shouted back, his voice softening toward the end.
"Eits! Don't call me Princess anymore. I am the General of the Revolutionary Army. Even with only two hundred men, I won't flinch," Selia replied with a soft laugh.
"Look at her, Bortos. Is she stupid or what? It's a thousand against two hundred—the winner is obvious. Move aside, let me take command," Turen Light, the Vice Commander, stepped forward, interrupting them.
"Wait, do not rush the attack. I am certain there is a hidden motive here," Bortos said, raising his hand to restrain him.
"Don't tell me you're still loyal to her? Remember, Bortos, she is an enemy of the state!" Turen began to pressure Bortos to initiate the strike. "Listen up, everyone! I am in command now!" Turen yelled to the troops.
"Hey! Who gives the orders here?" Bortos barked, trying to hold his men back.
The soldiers grew restless as their two leaders clashed. On the other side, Selia Argan simply smiled and let out a small chuckle.
"Oh, come on... we're ready over here. When are you going to attack? Are you just going to debate all day like it'll change anything?"
"Everyone, surround them from all sides! Do not let a single one escape!" Turen bellowed. He raised his sword and gave the signal. Selia only offered a sly smile as the imperial troops closed in from every corner of the valley.
Selia gave a small yawn. "Hoahm... Is the debate over yet?"
"Surrender! We have the numbers!" Turen screamed, pointing his sword at her.
Selia Argan rolled her eyes. "Ah, really? Strangely, I'm not scared at all."
"Are you mocking us?" Turen's glare intensified. "Everyone, prepare to attack!"
All the soldiers raised their swords and magic staffs.
"Checkmate."
Selia raised her hand and snapped a spark of fire. Instantly, hundreds of arrows launched from behind the valley ridges at high speed. Every arrow that struck the ground immediately froze the surrounding area.
Bortos's ranks fell into utter chaos. "What?!" he gasped, stunned by the sudden ambush.
Selia unsheathed her sword. "Everyone... HURRAAAAAAA!"
The revolutionary forces charged. From behind the hills, hidden units descended, striking from every flank.
| Flashback: Before the Battle |
The room was silent, a map of the Eldoria Empire spread across the table.
"We only have four hundred troops. What are we going to do?" Kalt Barley paced back and forth in a panic.
"The imperial forces have at least a thousand, maybe more," Raviel Zenit murmured, eyes fixed on the map.
Selia chuckled softly. "Ha... Let's think about this logically."
Furen Fedora shot her a sharp look. "Can you be serious for a second, Selia Argan?"
"Cih, can't you think better if your brain is calm?" Selia countered nonchalantly.
Fedrel Zevienthe simply scratched his head. Barley stopped pacing. The atmosphere turned heavy. Selia's gaze turned cold and sharp as she pressed her hands onto the table.
"Listen."
All eyes turned to her.
"This valley region," she said, pointing to a narrow pass on the map, "this will be our battlefield."
Zenit looked up.
"We will split our forces into five units," Selia continued.
Barley was shocked. "Five?"
"I will be the main bait."
"What?" Furen exclaimed.
"They have the numbers, so they will be overconfident. That confidence will create gaps in their defense." She marked the valley on the map. "Once they enter the valley... the other four units will strike from the hills: front, left, and right."
"Trapping them," Fedrel muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Selia smiled thinly. "Surprise. Checkmate."
Zenit paused for a few seconds. "But the risk is too high. What if they don't take the bait?"
Selia looked him in the eye. "They will. They see the revolutionaries as a threat that must be wiped out immediately. The plan is: I'll lead a hundred men as the bait, and then—"
"I don't agree. It's too risky," Furen cut her off, his eyes full of sharp concern.
Selia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, two hundred then. Otherwise, the frontline will be too thin."
Furen finally nodded.
"Moving on... for the front, Master Zenit, your position will be on the right hill, moving to the front once the enemy is deep in the valley. Sixty personnel."
"Understood. I see the flow," Zenit replied calmly.
"The right and left flanks—Uncle Barley and Fedrel, I'm leaving them to you. Fifty personnel each."
"Ready!" Barley and Fedrel answered in unison.
"And the rear... the rest is yours, Furen." Selia locked eyes with him.
"Alright," Furen replied. Their eyes lingered for a moment.
"Yosh! Okay everyone, let's bring it in." They joined hands for a cheer.
Xion Barley entered the room, carrying drinks.
| Back to the Battle |
Zenit descended from the hill, leading his unit to block the escape route, while Barley and his men joined the fray.
"Inferno Flame!" Xion Barley unleashed his magic. Flames roared, shattering the enemy formation.
"Nice one, Xion!" Barley gave a thumbs up.
"All clear, Father!"
The imperial soldiers were in a state of total panic, every man for himself as they scrambled for safety. Fedrel descended from the hill to support Selia, while Furen continued to freeze the battlefield with his arrows.
"How is this possible? Master Mage Zenit is here! Help!" an imperial soldier screamed.
"The Zevienthe and Barley nobles are here too! Even if we have the numbers, I doubt we can win!" The cries grew more pessimistic.
Turen was in a full-blown panic, surrounded on all sides. Meanwhile, Bortos could only stand still, staring at Selia. In his heart, he was still loyal to the House of Argan.
"Surrender, Uncle Bortos," Selia said, leveling her sword at him. Her gaze was sharp and cold, staring straight into his soul.