Into the Warzone

Rowan arrived at the battlefield in complete silence, his presence unnoticed as he made his way through the chaos. After careful searching, he finally found Blake inside his command tent, his brows tightly furrowed in frustration. Without hesitation, Rowan dispelled his disguise, revealing his true appearance.

Blake, upon seeing Rowan, felt his heart jolt violently. He immediately stood up and saluted. "Your Holiness, what brings you here?"

Rowan raised a hand slightly, signaling him to forgo formalities, and asked directly, "What is the current situation on the battlefield?"

Blake's expression darkened with guilt as he replied in a low voice, "It's not looking good, my lord. I've adopted a strategy of strategic retreat, engaging in battle while gradually pulling back. As of now, we've lost about a quarter of our territory… It is my failure."

Rowan shook his head lightly and said, "I did not come here to place blame on you. I came to discuss a way to annihilate our enemy. First, tell me about our forces."

Blake, encouraged by Rowan's words, straightened his posture and reported, "Your Holiness, the good news is that our elite troops remain largely intact. We have suffered some losses among the regular forces, but overall, our army's combat effectiveness remains stable."

Rowan nodded slightly and continued, "And what about the enemy's forces?"

Blake frowned before answering in detail, "I managed to disperse part of their army with a feigned retreat, but our biggest threat is still Vance's knight order. He leads a force of thirteen thousand, outnumbering us by three thousand, and his knights are superior in individual combat. That alone puts us at a significant disadvantage. Right now, they're running rampant across the battlefield, and we have no effective means to stop them."

Rowan pondered for a moment before asking, "If we eliminate their knight order, would the rest of their forces pose any real threat?"

Blake's eyes lit up. "My lord, if we can truly wipe out their knights, the tide of battle will turn in our favor. The rest of their army is nothing to be concerned about."

Hearing this, Rowan's mind was set. With unwavering resolve, he declared, "Lure their knights into battle. We will deploy our own ten-thousand-strong knight order to engage them head-on while simultaneously sending forces to flank them from the sides and rear. This time, we must crush them completely—no survivors."

Blake's eyes widened in shock. He hesitated before voicing his concerns, "Your Holiness… will this really work? This battle determines our very survival. If we fail, there will be no second chance."

Rowan met Blake's gaze, his eyes filled with confidence and authority. "Blake, you have followed me for years. Do you think I would make a reckless decision in such a crucial moment? Rest assured, I will be right behind your forces, ensuring our victory."

Recalling Rowan's infamous cunning, Blake's heart settled slightly. He nodded. "Since you have a plan, I will begin preparations immediately. Truthfully, the enemy is already growing impatient—they are eager for a decisive battle. We won't even need to lure them."

Meanwhile, in the enemy camp, Vance had just finished overseeing the construction of their encampment. Without delay, he summoned his vice commander and questioned him urgently, "How long can our supplies sustain us? This is critical for our next move."

The vice commander quickly responded, "At most, one more week, sir."

Vance frowned. "And when is the next supply shipment arriving? This cannot be delayed."

The vice commander hesitated before answering, "According to the church's logistics, it should arrive in six days… under normal circumstances, that is."

Vance's expression darkened with irritation. He slammed his fist on the table and roared, "I need certainty, not vague estimates! Do you understand the consequences if our supply chain fails?"

The vice commander, visibly nervous, tried to explain, "Sir, our advance was too rapid. We've stretched our supply lines thin, and the rear is struggling to keep up."

Vance's face turned grim as he considered their situation. After a brief silence, his gaze hardened. "No matter what, we must engage Blake's knights as soon as possible. If we crush them, the entire Duchy of Laen will be ours."

The vice commander, still cautious, voiced his concern. "Sir, but Blake is notoriously cunning. He has been avoiding direct confrontation this entire time. He won't be easy to bait."

Vance snorted. "He can't hide forever. Tomorrow, send men to their camp and provoke them—I refuse to believe he can sit still any longer."

The next morning, as the sun cast its golden glow over the camp, Blake stood at the forefront of his assembled knights. With a solemn expression, he gave the command. The ten-thousand-strong knight order mounted their horses, their expressions calm yet resolute. They all understood the gravity of this battle—it was a fight for survival, a battle where hesitation meant death.

Though they did not fully understand why Blake had chosen this moment for a direct confrontation, none wavered. These were warriors hardened by countless battles. They simply tightened their grips on their weapons and fixed their unwavering gazes ahead, ready to face whatever awaited them.

Blake gently patted the neck of his warhorse, a steed that had carried him through many battles. With a trace of melancholy in his eyes, he whispered, "Old friend, this may be our final ride together. Today, we give it everything we have."

As if understanding his words, the warhorse let out a resounding neigh, a battle cry that echoed across the ranks, filled with defiance and unyielding spirit.

The knight order swiftly formed their battle lines. The rhythmic pounding of hooves against the earth was like the steady beat of war drums. Slowly but surely, they advanced toward the enemy, exuding an aura of unshakable determination.

Meanwhile, in Vance's camp, his vice commander rushed over with an urgent report. "Sir! Blake's knights have emerged in full force. This appears to be their main army. However, we've also detected an additional five thousand troops moving in from the rear, likely an attempt to flank us."

Vance furrowed his brows but did not immediately respond. After a brief pause, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. "We cannot let this opportunity slip by. Assemble our forces immediately! We will first annihilate their knight order. Once their main force is shattered, the five thousand reinforcements will be of no consequence."

And so, the final battle began.