The Final Battle [1]

The day of the final battle had dawned.

"Hmm... I guess you really intend to fight."

Chandar smiled as he glared at the formation of Hardion, who had been moving busily since morning.

The battlefield was narrow. The plain that emerged from the valley stretched long from north to south.

To the west, a steep rocky mountain blocked the way, but it was so high and rugged that it could not be used tactically other than to limit the battlefield.

To the east, there was a short, gentle downhill slope. Although it was open, bypassing to attack the enemy's flank or rear required climbing the hill while being held back, rendering it practically inaccessible.

"You must have known the geography," Chandar muttered, running his hands through his beard.

Hardion's army, led by Carl, had likely settled there because they had reliable information about the geography.

Could this be information provided by those who surrendered to Carl?