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1446: Furthering Competition – Part 6 1446: Furthering Competition – Part 6 Volguard by his side offered sothing more optimistic.

“I think, if you can find the right opportunity, victory might yet still be secured, Ser Patrick.

There are certain parts of the Battle board that you excel in more than others.

I’d advise, against all costs, in going on the defensive.

That is by far where your ga has proven to be weakest.” “Right…” Oliver had said dryly, feeling almost defeated before he began.

“Don’t lose, you bastard,” Greeves told him cheerfully when he found him as well, before he disappeared to check on the markets once again.

Nila was in far better spirits, grinning from ear to ear.

Hers was about the only words that made Oliver feel just a little bit easier.

“You know, I was realllly nervous too Oliver, but I probably shouldn’t have been.

I think you’ll be fine.” It wasn’t anything special that she said.

It was likely just the fact that Nila was saying it.

He reached out a hand to pat her head, not particularly caring who would be watching.

That finally brought a smile through his stained expression, and gave him so small asure of the peace that he’d been feeling earlier.

He supposed, at least for Nila, he could attempt sothing grand.

His associates had done nothing to boost his confidence in warning him against his foe, but rarely, if ever, did Oliver find himself nervous against foes that he could easily defeat.

It was always the mighty that served to get his heart pounding, and it was always that might that left him with an equally weighty feeling of significance.

It was an opportunity.

He wanted to drift off, and allow Ingolsol’s fire to fill him.

That extra bit of fla that ca with the aggressive determination not to lose.

But it didn’t seem fitting for the occasion.

His will hardly carried any effect at all on the battlefield.

In fact, when he’d practised, the more wilful he’d found himself, the worse he’d perford.

It was as if he was presenting his plans to his foes in advance, and they’d all seen straight through them.

He fought to keep his peace, instead, as he let his fingers feel the softness of Nila’s hair.

She was right on the edge of being about to complain, as her eyes darted around, and she knew the people to be watching.

Just the slightest hint of embarrassnt, that she fought to control, to keep her usual presentation of herself in place.

It was likely the most endearing sight that Oliver could have found for himself.

Ingolsol was quiet, and Claudia shared his warmth.

It wasn’t the sort of fiery fire that he’d wish to slaughter masses of armies with, but it was a good feeling.

A strong feeling.

A will to win that didn’t need anger or the like to buttress it.

“Alright,” he told her, finally removing his hand.

“I’m going to go.” “Okay…” Nila said, sowhat shyly.

“Do your best.

And we’ll go and enjoy the rest of the tournant together afterwards, okay?

I think I’ve done everything I need to today… But I’ll make sure of it!” “Mhm.

I’ll look forward to it,” Oliver said.

“Good luck, my Lord,” Verdant told him as well before he left.

Blackthorn echoed him.

“Good luck, my Lord.

You may pat my head as well, if it strengthens you.” Naturally, Blackthorn couldn’t resist the jab.

Nor could Oliver.

He reached out a hand, as if to pat her, but he flicked her in the forehead instead, leaving her complaining with a loud ‘owww’.

The spectacle of the Battle board that they’d set up, Oliver thought, was one of the aspects of the tournant that he was most proud of.

He was well aware that the rules of the Battle board weren’t exactly easy to grasp, and he was aware too that few people would be interested in seeing two n huddled over a board.

And so, they’d done what they could to bring the ga to the masses, to illustrate its transferability to the battlefield.

For that purpose, they’d brought it to life.

Instead of re pieces, they had five n serving the role for each piece, with five n for a single cavalry piece, and five n for a single spear piece.

With 16 pieces on a normal Battle board, it gave each side an army 80 n strong.

And that made for a far more impressive and life-like display, than re wooden carved pieces.

Wooden panels had been placed in the field, to mark out large squares, imitating the board itself, and in them, the eighty n of either side stood, facing off against each other.

It was Blackwell soldiers that Oliver had been given for this purpose.

When he’d heard the idea, Lord Blackwell had only been too happy to provide the n required.

The sa was true for Colonel Bookhorne, as he stood at the other side of their giant board, on his raised platform overseeing their makeshift battlefield, waiting for Oliver to arrive.

There was already a crowd of a few hundred gathered.

They’d been watching the earlier Battle board matches with interest, including the peasantry, and Verdant reported that they seed to be getting a sense for the rules, when they were presented in the way that Oliver had presented them.

But now that a bigger na arrived for the match, the number of a few hundred began to swell upwards of a thousand, as more people gathered with a curiosity to see just how strong Oliver Patrick was at this ga of warfare that the nobles held so highly.

Oliver greeted the n that would be playing the role of his pieces, before he ascended his own raised platform.

From the height it offered him, it really was not at all that much different from staring down at the table, and the board that he would usually sit on.

If anything, it made it all feel less limited, as if he had access to more ideas than he usually might.

Sothing out of the range of what was offered by re wood.

He’d already decided on his army formation in advance, and had sent it, but Colonel Bookhorne was in the process of adjusting his own.

Apparently, he preferred a few more archers than was standard, and fewer swordsn.

The Blackwell n necessary to serve as his new pieces were quickly enough gathered, however.

Even that part – the process of simply starting the ga – seed a rather impressive spectacle.

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