[Eastern Line, Main Battlefield]
Medith held the rear on a white raven stallion, pale as frost at dawn. The city's cavalry was thin—only a hundred—and fifty had already been split to other lines as ace reserves.
On the front, fifty elite riders were enough. She had more killers up her sleeve, rain-plans laid before the storm. That’s always been Medith’s way.
“Looks like Lord Draela’s intuition really is terrifying.” Her voice was lazy over the saddle, wind-cool. Delaia wasn’t here; he’d moved to his appointed points to oversee the other three lines. The whole front lay in her hands.
It was a trust heavy as mountains. He’d handed her his entourage—and the lives of Sia City’s two hundred thirty thousand souls.
Sais spoke from under steel, her tone sharp as a reed: “Medith, we’re holding for now. But that heavy cavalry hasn’t charged. They just pulled back. Are they abandoning the front to swap lines?”
Medith smiled with calm fire. “Good. I’m begging for it. See Erig and Sinis? Behind them should be the supreme commander named in the letter—Manto, right? If they dare parade their commander, I won’t mind. We reclaimed the walls. Now they’re turtles sealed in a clay urn.”
She lifted her chin like a blade to the sky. “If they strip troops to aid another line, they open a gap for us. If he thinks I’ll miss it, perfect. I’ll take his commander’s head to show him how foolish he is.”
Sais nodded, tension loosening like thawed ice. Medith’s poise steadied everyone in a heartbeat. They’d just forced the enemy back; morale spiked like a drum at its peak. The iron defense of fifteen hundred from Sia City made the Sage Soldiers ache.
“Sais, be ready. If they roll out the Blackblood War Chariot, use that to block it.” Medith nudged her horse, riding the iron ridge. Half the city had been emptied of metal and master smiths. In two days, they cast a defense hundreds of meters long, black as a river of steel.
Beyond the line, concrete towers rose tight and high, like cliffs bristling. Breaking through was near impossible. Horses aren’t bulldozers. The first collision into solid wall—maybe a horse lives, but the rider won’t.
“Brave warriors! Sing!” Medith’s voice rang like a bell through cold air. “You drove back those blood-drunk fiends! But the war isn’t over! Sharpen your spirits. Be ready for a stronger hit—always. Never grow careless—”
Roars surged, a tide pounding stone. Momentum climbed like fire under a kettle.
...
“Report to Commander Erig! The Blackblood War Chariot has malfunctioned. We can’t start it. Bowstrings and key triggers were cut. With its special build, we likely won’t use it this war.” The scout tumbled his words out, panicked.
Erig and Sinis jolted like trees under thunder. “Say what?! Sabotage on the Blackblood War Chariot?! Who did it?!”
The question left Erig’s mouth, then he knew how dumb it sounded. If they knew, they wouldn’t be reporting like this.
“Second Brother, what now? Our key line-breaker is wrecked at the worst time. If we force it, we’ll bleed hard...” Sinis’s handsome face went dead-water black; his usual confident smile had drowned.
Erig ground iron underfoot, heat rolling off him. His eyes spat fire at Medith. She watched from not far away, wrapped head to toe in white armor. Even her eyes were veiled by crystal. No one could read her heart.
“Damn you! Was this part of your plan too? How many cards do you still have?” Humiliation tasted like ash. Medith felt like a shadow glued to his back—cling, cling—unceasing. When he finally faced her, he still had no answer.
Formations were locked now, heavy as set stone. “They calculated we’d attack the front...” Cold sweat slid, a snake down his spine. This whole deployment was a mind fight.
Predict the opponent’s thought, and you strike the key. If Medith guessed he’d hit elsewhere, she’d deploy elsewhere; then he’d win his gamble.
He went against the grain. He bet she’d set her key defense on the flank—because who’d front-assault with this much advantage? Hit from the side; that’s sane. So he slammed the front.
Turns out she didn’t overthink. She met him head-on, iron to iron. Come or don’t.
“Delaia, was this your hand?” Erig remembered one of the Five under Royal Authority. Each was a monster in their field. Delaia was famed for war-sense beyond reason.
It was useless to dwell. In this mind game, he’d lost. That’s all.
“Shield soldiers, all forward! Protect yourselves and your mates! Heavy Sword Soldiers, tail them tight. Mountain Bandits, cover fire from the rear. Heavy cavalry—charge with me! We ram the corner and break it!” Erig barked, and shieldmen advanced under heavy shields. Mountain Bandits clumsily strung bows, fists full of stones and iron, and began to shoot.
“Sinis, hit the right boundary! I don’t believe they can stop us with this few!” Erig slapped his mount’s belly. He leaped forward, dust trailing. One lone rider like a streak, pulling hundreds of world-shaking iron cavalry toward the left corner...
...
“Ha. You did take that move.” Medith’s smile under her helm was fox-sharp, ghost-cold. Lucky no one saw it, or they’d have flinched.
Palmer led fifty guards crouched inside a house, listening to iron hooves drum closer, like thunder rolling down an alley. “Commander Medith is frightening... She ate every step Erig made, down to his fear of front-breaking...” The man admired the girl who was playful off-field, remorseless on it.
He nodded to his men, flipped back a massive oilcloth, and looked at what lay beneath. His smile bloomed, quiet and sure.
...
“Ma’am! The Iron Cavalry Legion is moving! They didn’t choose a frontal break. They split for both corners. Do we shift? I’m worried about—”
Medith’s long blade cut the air, crisp as frost. “Don’t panic. I’ve got this. Focus on the enemies in front. Pull two hundred shield soldiers and three hundred Heavy Sword Guards. Split them to both corners. Endure the first impact, and they’ll have no follow-up. May His Majesty Ogathas walk with you—”
“Ah—oo—oo—!” The guards took the order and flooded into place, two white lines running to the corners like chalk strokes.
The front settled into four hundred shieldmen and over five hundred long-spear fighters. The enemy still outnumbered them several times over. But now they believed. They would drive these invaders from their home.
