"Mmh." A Templar looked across the river in confusion. He was one of the few left on guard duty." Do you see that?" Talking to the other man, he focused his tired eyes and shook his head.
"It’s nothing." Not seeing anyone approach, the man brushed it off and leaned against his sword again.
"No. The camp. It looks active." Looking at his partner, he slapped the man’s shoulder, "Don’t lean on your weapon."
Rolling his eyes and sighing, the Templar stood up straight and sheathed his blade. He watched the Ammary camp. After half a minute, he focused even more intently. "They’re moving?" He didn’t understand. Maybe they’re repairing the damage from the raid."
"Maybe. But it’s too active." The man sighed, "I will keep watch for a while, mayb.... " The sound of ripping air cut his sentence short. The other Templar looked over and saw his comrade’s wide, shocked eyes, as he clutched his chest, his fingers curling around an arrow.
"ATT...!" The wind ripped again, and the arrow pierced through his stomach, making him stop and groan in pain. Two more flew out from the darkness across the river, delivering the finishing blow. A few seconds passed, and four Ammary n crossed the river.
"Sync your shot next ti." One of them said in annoyance, grabbing the first Templar’s feet. Another grabbed his head, and the other two did the sa with the other body. Without wasting a second, they carried the bodies down to the river and chucked them in.
Crouching down, they rubbed wet dirt over their armour and lay, waiting for the next patrol to co. They had been watching all this ti. Studying the patrol routes of the church. Three minutes passed, and five more Templars ca. They instantly could tell sothing was wrong, seeing the two they ca to replace having disappeared.
The Ammary soldiers acted quickly. With an arrow already ready, they stood up and drew their bows. In a second, four shot out and they quickly reloaded, firing another four shots at the n. One of them moved forward, pulling their knife out. Stabbing the n through the hearts, three disappeared clean from the scene as another crossed the bridge.
Covering his mouth with his hand, he bounced his fingers and made a sound resembling that of a bird call. After a few tis, he heard it being carried back to the camp by soldiers hidden in the dark. Returning to et up with his comrades, the four waited, lying in the dirt again. They were freezing, but they knew their job, and each one pushed away any discomfort they were feeling.
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"We have the signal, General." A soldier rushed into William’s tent and said before leaving once again. William got up and grabbed his spear lying next to his bed. Walking out, he saw his n waiting for him and led them out of the camp. All around the camp, the order was given to each commander, and they quickly led their n out.
Thanks to the raid on their camp, most n were already geared up and ready for battle. Although they had less than an hour to prepare for battle, they were trained to be ready to move at a mont’s notice.
William walked at the head of the large force. It was impossible to hide their march. Despite killing the patrols, the sound of an army marching wasn’t sothing he could hide. ’One minute. If a Patrol changes every five, I have one minute.’
Marcus ran up and took his place next to William. "The n are ready, reinforcents are still gearing up." William nodded and put his whistle in his mouth. Blowing hard, he and his n started charging.
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Michael knelt in his tent. His hands clutched his necklace as he quietly muttered a long prayer. His voice was full of sadness and worship, but hearing an annoying noise outside, his face scrunched.
Whilst he would never usually do so, he stopped praying and listened closer. ’Water. Rumbling. Stampede. Oh Sol.’ Michael stood up in an instant. Rushing out, he looked around and ran towards the bell.
"ENEMY ATTACK!" With all his might, he pulled hard on the bell, alerting every man. "ENEMY ATTACK!" Michael ran back and grabbed his sword. ’How could they attack. It’s too early. General Flanders isn’t this impulsive.’
It was a short mont they had t, but Michael had a good read of William. He was a mber of the old generation. Cautious and patient. That much was obvious when he t him. ’It’s the other. The one who sat with Flanders. The mad man.’ Michael rembered Marcus. That burning ambition when he looked at him, and his crazed movents during the raid.
’I was wrong. He values his n’s input more than I thought. Shit.’ Clicking his tongue, Michael walked over to a bucket of water and dunked his head in it to clear his mind. Throwing his head back, he brushed his hand through his soaked hair and let out a deep breath. He couldn’t risk being in a state of panic, nor could he focus on his failures. All he could do was win.
Even if he was caught off guard, he was still Sol’s sword. A man who led the Church to victory after victory. A warrior with God on his side. His enemy was n who placed their faith in another man. They may be smart or strong, but they had no higher authority. They would fear death because they had nothing to look forward to. Michael pulled his sword.
Looking at the golden hilt, he saw the etching of the sun in it and prayed. Putting his helt on, he pulled the visor down. The Templars outside the tent saw Michael walk out in our white armour. Each step he took forward was filled with unshakable confidence. The aura around him made it feel like losing was an impossibility.
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William led the charge. The Commonwealth forces sat on a slight hill, and although they caught them by surprise, a small but firm shield wall ford at the top. The Ammary n charged with all their might, the space between the two sides closing with each second. William Grib tightened around the spear in his hands, and when he was in rage, he shot out like a viper.
The tip pierced through the first man like he was paper. He had no ti to linger, however. Pulling the spear out of the man’s neck, he took a step back, avoiding the attacks coming towards him. The Ammary n quickly got into position. Even if they were rushed into attacking, the formations they learnt had beco a part of them. Neat rows of n lined up as each commander put a whistle into their mouth and steadily counted down.
William felt himself beco hyper-focused. His mind locked in on each part of his army as he simultaneously killed his enemy in front. Each commander, each groan and each laboured breath. He tried not to miss anything. His mind beca a massive chessboard with him playing on one side.
"PREPARE FOR CALVERY TO FLANK!" William shouted out the order, and his n carried it along. Although the sound of the fighting threatened to drown out anyone’s voice, his never did. All across the army, those in the back turned around whilst those on the side turned sideways and readied their blades for a surprise attack.
’5...4...3...2...1’ Blowing into the whistle, he moved back away from the front and was quickly replaced by another man. He moved down the line and watched. They had made a small breakthrough because of how quickly they caught the Commonwealth off guard. But bodies were being thrown at them. Although they had reached the top of the small hill, any further progress was stopped.
William watched. The chessboard in his mind played out hundreds of moves from both sides. He tried to predict every move Michael could possibly make. "WATCH FOR ARCHERS!" William shouted, and his n, not fighting, lifted their shields above their heads. The order didn’t need to be carried, the act alone being enough to tell everyone what to do.
A minute later, William heard what sounded like hail hitting the shields. Arrows pierce through the shields, allowing moonlight to break through. From the volley of arrows, the Empire took its first casualties. Their bodies were quickly dragged back, and their positions replaced. William nodded, expecting the arrows. Enough ti had passed for archers to be ready, and the Commonwealth had stopped them in place to make an easy target.
’5...4...3...2...1.’ Once again, the ti ca and the line moved quickly, those in the front given a chance to rest whilst a fresh batch of n took their place. William closed his eyes. ’What am I missing. Michael, Templars, Commonwealth soldiers. A commander. A commonwealth one. Laska. He is here.’
"TWO ENEMY GENERALS. GRAND TEMPLAR MICHEAL AND DUKE AUGUST LASKA. THEY ARE OUR PRIORITY!" Williams’s shout was quickly carried along to every man who made a ntal note.
The fighting grew heavier after the shout, each man knowing the reward they would get for felling an enemy commander. Despite that, the Ammary soldiers didn’t lose their discipline and stayed like a well-oiled machine, each playing their role perfectly. The fighting beca heavier and heavier with each passing second, but the Ammary n slowly made ground. The Commonwealth and Templars were caught off guard. If they had ti to think, things would have been different, but it wasn’t the case.
William looked around. Places with a heavy concentration of Commonwealth forces were weaker. Sword for sword, each one of his n was better in all aspects. Skill, endurance and coordination. Compared to the Empire, the Commonwealth looked like an unprepared mob.
Looking over to the Church, he frowned. Unlike the Commonwealth, the Templars had quickly regained their footing. Each one was equal to his own man, and the fighting had beco a brutal lee in which each man put all his effort into killing the person before him.
Despite that, Williams’ eyes looked to the Commonwealth. From what he knew, August was a rat, but a skilled one. The defence was too weak, even if he was caught off guard. William watched. His n broke through slowly, but easily. Too easily. ’A trap?’
The thought ca to mind. He and Marcus had created many hypotheses of formation for his n, and one of them considered making a weak line to allow the enemy in. ’Force us in and then cut us off.’
Willai put the whistle in his mouth and blew in a certain pattern. Waiting for a response, he didn’t get one and did it again. He waited, and from the Commonwealth side, he finally got a reply in the sa pattern. Moving over, he crossed paths with one of his commanders, who took his place.
"WEAKEN THE LINE! LURE THEM IN!" William gave the order. If it wasn’t a trap, the Commonwealth would push against his forces. If it were, they would hold the line, luring them in like bait. His n heard the order and didn’t hesitate to follow. They trusted their leader. If he gave the order, he must have seen sothing they didn’t.
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