Aftermath of the First Encounter

March 22nd, 1701.

Marshal Armand Roux sat in his war tent, the dim glow of lanterns flickering against the fabric. The scent of blood and gunpowder still clung to the air, and outside, the wounded moaned as medics worked tirelessly to tend to them.

He exhaled, staring at the map of the battlefield spread before him.

The battle had not gone as planned.

He had expected the Elyseans to fall into his trap, to be bled dry in the dense jungle where they could not bring their full force to bear. Instead, they had turned the trap against him.

How?

His mind replayed the battle—the way the enemy had reacted swiftly, countering his ambush as if they had known exactly what he would do. That was no ordinary battlefield instinct.

No. That was calculated.

And there was only one conclusion: King Bruno had sent someone who thought like him.

"Who is he?" Roux muttered to himself.

A new enemy. One unlike any he had faced before.