A week had passed, and several battles, similar to the one at Crystal Brook, had taken place. The barbarians, unprepared to counter the mage units, had lost a substantial sum of their forces. Of course, even the grand duke's army had not emerged unscathed, as they had lost ten thousand men by the end of the week. If the war had continued for longer, it was clear who would lose. But not everyone saw it that way.
Back at the barbarian chief's longhouse, the chief looked at Arvandus with a serious expression on his tattooed face. "You're telling me that most of our ambushes have failed?" he said.
"Yes, my chief. I did not expect those heathens to have prepared such a response in such a short period of time," Arvandus replied, his face creased with a frown.
"Forget it. If the ambush strategy doesn't work, I'll simply have to bait them into direct confrontation," the barbarian chief said.
"Will you head out soon, my chief?" Arvandus asked, his eyebrows raised in concern.
"What other choice do we have?" the barbarian chief replied, looking straight at Arvandus.
Seeing that his right-hand man had nothing left to say, the barbarian chief spoke. "Their army is superior to ours in every aspect, aside from numbers. If we can pull the grand duke into this battle, it will distract them from the pincer."
"Understood, sir," Arvandus agreed reluctantly. His concerned expression was clearly visible.
"Prepare Arktos. We will meet them in battle in three days," the barbarian chief said as he left the longhouse.
"Yes, sir," Arvandus said, closely following behind the barbarian chief.
shortly after the barbarian chief had moved out of his village with his troops, the grand duke could be seen listening to a report from one of the scouts who had been observing the actions of the barbarians.
"Artoxares has already started moving? The war has only been going on for a week?" Dante asked in surprise as he listened to the reports from his scouts.
"It seems the old bastard has grown impatient after seeing all of his tactics fail before our superior military quality," Nicholas replied, standing next to Dante as they looked over a detailed map of the north.
Nodding at Nicholas's words, Dante said, "Get everyone ready. Besides the soldiers engaging in guerrilla warfare, I want everyone to be near the frozen forest by tomorrow evening. We will wait for the barbarians to show up."
After the scout nodded, Dante turned to his butler and said, "Get Stormwing ready. I'll be meeting the barbarian chief in the tundra plains outside the frozen forest."
"Yes, sir," Benjamin replied, quickly leaving the tent.
"John!" Dante shouted, alerting the entire camp to his presence.
John appeared in the tent a minute later, wooden sword in hand. "Yes, sir?" he said, standing at attention in front of the grand duke.
Smiling at the young prince's diligence, Dante said, "Get ready. We're about to go to battle."
"This soon?" John asked, surprise visible on his face.
"Yeah, the barbarian chief has started to move," Dante replied, rising from his seat.
"I see," John said, going into deep thought.
"Don't just stand there. Get your gear and meet me by the stables where Stormwing is resting," Dante said, noting that John was not moving after receiving his orders.
"Ah, yes, I will get going then," John said as he rushed out, his mind puzzling over why the first battle had started so soon. He wondered if it was the presence of himself and the duke in this timeline that had caused events to progress so smoothly, unlike his past life. However, he knew he would have plenty of time to ponder these thoughts once the battle was over, so he decided to put them aside for now.
Three days had passed, and now, on a barren tundra, two armies stood facing each other. One army was much larger than the other, dwarfing it by a substantial margin.
The grand duke, accompanied by his seventy thousand troops, stood at one end of the plains, while the barbarian chief, with his one hundred thousand troops, stood at the other. The two armies had their troops organized differently. The barbarian army consisted mostly of infantry and beast riders, whereas the grand duke's army was far more diversified.
On either side were two ten-thousand-strong light cavalry divisions, each with a twenty-five-hundred-strong heavy cavalry behind it. At the center of the formation was a thirty-thousand-strong infantry, and at the front was the grand duke's five-thousand-strong wyvern knight division, accompanied by another five thousand mages. At the back of it, all was a five-thousand-troop-strong archery division.
Unlike the complex division of the grand duke's army, the barbarian army was divided into three portions. The infantry, numbering a total of seventy-five thousand, secured the flanks, while the riders in the middle, numbering twenty-five thousand, aimed to destroy the enemies' center.
Before the battle had begun, the barbarian chief, mounted on his gigantic snow leopard, and the grand duke, riding his massive wyvern, met at the center of what would soon become a bloody battlefield.
"Artoxares, you fucking old bastard, have you not learned anything from your loss five years ago?" Dante sneered at the barbarian chief, meeting his gaze with a piercing stare.
Artoxares chuckled, stroking the scar on his chest that he had received during their last battle. "Oh, Dante, you fool. I have learned much from my defeat, but don't worry, I shall have your head on a pike by the time we're done fighting."
Dante scoffed. "You're confident, aren't you? Is it because you broke through to the Violet Core grade? If you think you can win just because of that, you're only fooling yourself."
Artoxares grinned, his eyes flashing with fierce determination. "No, my friend, there's more to it than that. When we fought five years ago, we were at the same rank, and I still lost. But this time, I have something that will tip the scales in my favor."
Dante raised an eyebrow, a sly smile crossing his lips. "Oh, and what would that be? The organization that gave you the power to form beast contracts and caused those beasts to mutate?"
Artoxares was taken aback. "How did you know?" he stuttered, a look of confusion crossing his face.
Dante smirked. "You underestimate me, old fool. But let's end this conversation here, shall we? May the strongest army win."
A couple of minutes later, Dante landed before his army and began to speak. "Today, I stand before brave men who have taken up arms to defend their lands from these barbarians who seek to steal our homes from us. Today, I see brave men who stand here in front of a vastly larger military for one purpose, to protect their homeland. Many of us may not return, but we march off knowing that today, we either win or we die."
"VAE VICTIS!" The Grand Duke screamed at the top of his lungs, his sword raised high in the air.
"VAE VICTIS!" His soldiers roared in response, stomping their spears on the ground, causing the entire battlefield to tremble.
*SCREEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHHHH* Stormwing screeched as Dante signaled it to take flight. Once his ride was airborne, Dante screamed at the top of his lungs, "CHAAARRRRGEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
His infantry and archery units marched forward slowly, while his light cavalry charged toward the flanks. The heavy cavalry followed behind, keeping a low profile and out of sight from the barbarians.
.
.
.
After separating from Dante, Artoxares returned to his men, his chest heaving with emotion. "MEN!" he bellowed, pouring his mana into his voice. "Our ancestors faced the tyranny of the empire for centuries. They chased us out of our rightful land and left us to starve within the frozen forests of the north. But not any longer!" Artoxares recounted the struggles his people had endured at the hands of the empire for centuries, his voice rising with each passing word.
"Today, we shall end this centuries-long conflict once and for all and reclaim our rightful land," Artoxares continued, his axe raised high. "FOR YRIDNIA!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with determination.
"FOR THE GODDESS OF VICTORY!" his men echoed, the sound of their voices rising to a fever pitch. They readied themselves for battle, their muscles tense with anticipation.
"CHAAARGEEEEEEEEEEE!" Artoxares screamed, urging his snow leopard and his twenty-five thousand riders forward. They raced toward the grand duke's army, their battle cries echoing across the battlefield.
No one knew how this war would end, people had their predictions, while most believe the barbarians would end up winning if they stalled the duke's army for long enough, there were plenty who believed that the grand duke's superior-quality troops would make short work of these barbarians.
However, the result would only be decided after a long and gruesome battle in which our young prince would be actively participating. This would be the first real conflict the young prince would face since his arrival back in time, and it would definitely not be the last, but it would forever be engrained into his bones.