The Army of the Kingdom of Whitecastle appeared round a distant hill barely five minutes after Rici Army finished its deployment.
Suddenly, the army fell quiet, except for several children talking excitedly in the back.
"Man, I can't wait to see how our army destroys the invaders!"
"Wait- look, there they are! That's the Whitecastle Army!"
Aside from that, Archon Otto could only hear the distant echoes of footsteps ringing throughout the plains.
A distant but still intense voice could still be made out if one listened carefully:
"For king and country
We march to victory!
Let the enemy know,
that the brave men of the kingdom
shall shy away from no fear!"
The sound of the enemy's marching chant could be heard as 10,000 men recited it in unison, creating an effect of fear and intimidation on the Rici Army, and many soldiers started nervously whispering to themselves.
Seeing this unrest, Archon Otto frowned in dissatisfaction. The difference in morale between the highly trained, veteran troops and his own mainly conscript army was as clear as day. Beside him, Legate Valery suggested something. "My liege, perhaps you should display yourself to the men, so that your presence inspires them!"
Archmage Reaves quickly rebutted him. "And risk his life? Our liege is a tier five mage; if he is killed by the superior tier six mage that is Legate Leon, who is to blame for that?" He shot back while glaring at his erstwhile enemy.
Legate Valery, burning with resentment, struck back. "Says the tier seven mage! As a native to this kingdom, surely you should do your part to protect and defend it!"
Archmage Reaves countered. "I'm an Archmage; there are barely one hundred in the entirety of the Ophym continent. As such, the Mage Association requires me to be neutral so as to not drastically shift the balance of power!"
Everyone, including Archon Otto and the senior officers behind him, rolled their eyes at that. Keep neutral? This guy had been trying to seize control of the army to obtain glories for weeks now!
However, no one said anything as the international Mage Association, based in the Uria Empire's Uria city, was on a completely different level from the local Mage Guilds.
Had Alexius been here, he would've noticed that the Association was just like the church back on Earth, with it being based in and backed by a huge empire.
If local great mages and grand mages were like priests and deacons, in charge of a small region or nation, then Archmages were like bishops and cardinals, having influence over large territories spanning multiple nations.
The only difference was that these men didn't rule through religion, but rather sheer power. The only reason why they didn't rule the continent by now was due to how decentralized it was.
As the chanting from the Whitecastle men continued, Archon Otto realized that he had to do something or risk a collapse of morale.
As such, he immediately donned his signature jewel-studded crown and royal regalia, flying out before his army for all to see.
"Brave men of our nation; we are gathered here today to stop the merciless invaders from pillaging our land and burning our homes!"
His voice echoed through the ranks eerily, as the tension in the army flared up.
"Make no mistake, the enemy is here to take our land; they will stop at nothing to do so!"
The conscript spearmen at the front started whispering amongst themselves, even though their officers tried to keep discipline.
"They will drive a spear through your father and brother, and they will take all your wealth; they will rip the dignity from your woman, and they will burn your fields!"
This struck the soldiers hard as they realized that, behind them, there was nothing stopping the enemy from doing just that.
Then, their leader's voice rose. "We have to stop them right here and right now! So, my fellow countrymen, let us stand fast in unity; to prevent the terrible invaders from taking away everything we hold dear!"
The whispering and chattering amongst the ranks soon turned into a flood which sounded throughout the entire valley, drowning out even the Whitecastle army's chant.
"Defend our homeland!"
The twenty thousand men affixed their spears and stood at the ready, puffing their chests out with pride.
'It is truly a wonder at how a few words can turn 20,000 individuals into 20,000 soldiers.' Alexius thought from afar as Archon Otto returned to the command tent.
Excited whispering came from behind his back as he watched the Whitecastle army's column stop its advance about 10 kilometres from the defensive line.
The enemy moved like a well-oiled machine; various units split up, coalescing into brigades and battalions, taking their positions.
In the command tent overlooking the battle from a nearby hill, several mages moved pieces representing enemy units around on a map.
This was to let the high ranking officers who couldn't use magic have a clear understanding of the battle as they discussed and gave orders to tweak their formation.
"My liege, it seems that the enemy is taking an offensive position." Legate Valery came beside Archon Otto and reported.
Otto was surprised. Was the enemy not going to engage in any pre battle operations?
However, a grin appeared on his face.
Perhaps this Legate Leon was an excellent mage, but he had little combat experience and had only won against the aparsely-placed border guards.
Would he fare well against a numerically superior army?
From what it seemed, Legate Leon had made a grave blunder by committing to a frontal assault with his outnumbered forces on a superior defensive position.
Well, this was just making his life easier, wasn't it? That was ehat the Archon thought.
The enemy was better equipped, but his army had longer range and better numbers, so it wasn't a large problem.
In just 15 minutes, the Whitecastle army had completed their deployment, standing in neat rows about ten men deep.
However, Archon Otto realized that about 1,000 men on the enemy side were missing, though he didn't let that bother him.
Compared to the average of 16 men on the Rici side, their numbers were just too lacking. What could a measly 1,000 men do?
Just then, they started their advance.
As one, they slowly marched forward, accelerating at a constant rate till they were at a brisk walking pace.
The enemy got closer and closer, and the Rici soldiers held their breaths.
Eight kilometres away, an exchange of magic occurred, as both sides fired fireballs or conjured water waves at each other.
These didn't do too much as the mages on each side mostly negated the damage.
The sky grew increasingly gloomy as the exchange wore on and the enemt kept advancing.
Five kilometres.
Four.
Three.
Two.
At this range, the archers and crossbowmen atop the city walls of Littlesberg started taking pot shots at the enemy, hitting a few as the exchange of magic projectiles intensified.
Both sides suffered similar casualties, but Rici still held the advantage with its larger number of ranged troops.
By this point, changing the formation any further would just be inviting chaos, so the officers in the command tent sat back and waited with clammy hands.
One kilometre was left.
The Whitecastle army now inched closer and closer to the frontline under a heavy barrage of projectiles, spooking even the Rici men. However, their superior armour and heavy shields negated most damage. From the command tent, the officers all let out sighs of exasperation.
Just then, about 100 metres away, a singular shout could be heard from across the battlefield.
"Charge!"
At that, the army across from them suddenly broke ranks, with the men letting out primal roars before spurring themselves on.
These were veterans, men who outclassed the conscripts at the front of the defensive line in ferociousness, skill, boldness, and everything else save for numbers.
"For the King!"
Their shouts startled many spearmen holding the line, but, inspired by their leader's speech and unwilling to yield, they dug their feet into the ground and grit their teeth. Now, they could only trust in the man behind them, and the earthworks in front of them.
In the command tent, the scene rapidly changed. Archon Otto scoffed, seeing the enemy charge headfirst into the defenses and the wall of spears. 'They are offering themselves up to be sacrificed!' He thought.
His confident voice sounded through the eerily silent tent, in contrast to the chaotic field below. "The enemy has made a foolish decision! I see few mages in the enemy army; they have no chance of bridging our trenches and bypassing pikes without earth magi-"
He was cut short as the enemy did exactly that. "B...but- I can't see any red-robed mages!" He stuttered, as he struggled to come to terms with what he had just seen.
Beside him, Archmage Reaves and Legate Valery were, for once, in agreement.
The Archmage spat on the floor. "Trickery... vile trickery! They have completely broken the precedent set by the great Marlonian Empire, and disguised their mages; watch, just watch, and our army will prevail with glory and its dignity intact!"
The clash of metal on metal was heard as a deafening roar through the entire plain as man slaughtered man in a chaotic frenzy.
Below, near the foot of the hill, Alexius couldn't find anything wrong. 'It seems that the earthworks have been neutralized, but they have done their job of slowing down the first wave. It's a success from my point of view.'
It was true. He could tell that the front ranks of the Whitecastle army slowed down to give time for their mages to raise land bridges, which amazed him at their versatility. However, this came at the cost of their momentum.
Looking to his side, the rest of the children held their breaths, with some squealing with glee at the dramatic scene. Alexius shook his head. 'If they were down there fighting, I doubt that they could be so lighthearted.'
All along the defensive line, the bulky, armoured infantry of the enemy smashed into the spearmen, whose formations became disordered, allowing for gaps and more men to pressure the defensive line.
Legate Valery, back in the command tent, had his brows furrowed while observing. The defensive line of spearmen was supposed to hold on even if the trenches suddenly flew away, so them getting pushed back from their defenses and even forming some shallow gaps was incredibly worrisome.
Seeing that the situation at the centre was worsening, he turned to the runner beside him, who was a tier two warrior mage and could get messages across the whole distance in record time.
"Tell the first and second battalions on our right to reinforce our centre; the right flank is doing well right now." The runner nodded, dashing off to fulfill his duty.
The officers now watched, with rapt attention, at the battle unfolding before them. They knew that, at any time now, the second phase of the battle was about to begin.
Very soon, the two battalions reached the centre of the defensive line and reinforced it, greatly slowing down the progress of the attackers, who by now had mostly crossed the earthworks.
They now slowly inched forward, grinding the spearmen before them down, brutally stabbing and pulling back their swords like machines and not humans. Warrior-mages were involved in intense and flashy fights all across the line, while traditional mages did all they could to support the front.
"The enemy has advanced about 10 metres behind the defensive line!"
The hearts of the officers in the command tent all started pounding.
"Make sure the right flank doesn't falter!"
"Tell the officers at the centre to allow the men some leeway!"
Orders were getting barked out left and right, but to the Archon himself, it was as if he was in his own world. His entire being was focused on one portion of the battlefied.
This entire time, as the enemy advanced and come into contact with the Rici line, there were 2,000 men who weren't engaged.
'Soon... a few more...' A countdown started in his head as he looked towards the flanks.
At the ends of the left and right flank, there were 1,000 cavalrymen each who were waiting for the signal.
Then, an officer with wrinkles on his face came up to him and bowed.
"My liege, the centre has fallen significantly behind the rest of the army. It is do or die!"
A wry smile formed on Archon Otto's face as he turned to Legate Valery and gave his order.
"It's time! Now we drive the enemy back to where they belong!"
Finishing his sentence, he turned back to the battlefield and his brows furrowed once more.
No matter how much bravado he showed, there was one major thing that had irked him since the start of the battle.
The enemy's commander was a tier six mage, but there had been no trace of him. Just what was he getting up to?