The battlefield was silent. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers and massive beasts waited in this silence with the calm before a storm. The wind gently rustled the banners on the Hindonpon side, and the vapor from the breaths of the Konotger beasts was visible in the cold air.
Neonidas stood motionless on his horse at the very back of his army. His eyes were resolute, his face hard and expressionless.
The black horse beneath Neonidas stomped impatiently, the rhythmic sound occasionally breaking the surrounding silence, as if heralding the approaching storm.
Although the sky was clear, the faint mist on the horizon added an eerie unease to the battlefield. A thin fog spread across the ground, proclaiming the cold of the earth that would soon be soaked with the bodies of the fallen in this vast arena.
