“Do you see that?! She’s been holding the line for over an hour now! She’s a natural! Magnificent! That’s my niece for you! And she’s a stunner too! Don’t you dare even think about falling for her!”
Maxim’s adjutant smiled awkwardly. “She’s definitely living up to her reputation as the most promising warrior in Achilles history, Battalion Commander. Her skills rival those of a full-grown adult, and her stamina seems to have no limit... We might be on opposite sides at the moment, but I’m eager for the day when I get to fight alongside her instead.”
“You’re damn right! And don’t forget that she’s gonna grow into a real beauty by then! You can’t see it very well from all the way back here, but she’s a stunner!” Maxim, ever the doting uncle, was about to launch into another of his famously long-winded boasting sessions when the reinforcements he’d requested arrived from the northern stronghold.
“Battalion Commander! Reserve company reporting for duty, as requested!”
Forced to battle in disadvantageous conditions against skilled opponents, the vanguard company led by Maxim Achilles had already diminished to nearly half of its original strength. The troops hadn’t actually died, of course. Any soldiers who were disarmed, knocked unconscious, or found a blade held against their neck (or any other vital part of the body) were treated as having been “killed in action.” As casualties, they were no longer able to participate in the battle. They were, however, allowed to retreat to a preestablished waiting area, and nearly half of Maxim’s original company was already on their way there.
“Well met, Commandant. How goes the fighting at the other strongholds?”
The commandant grimaced. “It’s much the same as here, unfortunately... They’ve made good use of the terrain to restrict our movements, forcing us into head-on combat a few at a time.”
Maxim’s shoulders drooped. Their overwhelming advantage in numbers meant nothing if they couldn’t use it. One by one they’d continue to fall, and eventually, they’d lose. “Any orders from the Sage?”
“Yes, sir. He said to be wary of flank attacks, and gave you leave to revise the battle plan as you see fit.”
Maxim snorted. Their enemy was only twenty strong; they didn’t have the troops to spare for a flank attack. He still didn’t know how many of those troops were stationed within the western stronghold, but assuming Class A had divided themselves into three approximately even groups, there couldn’t be more than six or seven of them in total. He’d already seen five of them with his own eyes. Besides, even if they’d assigned half of their troops to this stronghold, a flank attack would never succeed. While the Trouvereans’s access to the stronghold was restricted on account of the narrow ridgeline, the forest, where they waited, was spacious enough for two companies (well, one and a half at this point) to move around freely. A flank attack would be suicide.
We’re wasting our time here, Maxim decided, and immediately began to issue orders. “Swap positions! I’ll deal with Stella. Massie, Romeo—you handle the other two! Trayde, you take command back here. If we fall, don’t give them any time to recover—just keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got nowhere left to run! Once this stronghold has fallen, march south!”
Of course, Maxim hadn’t wanted to fight his beloved niece, but there could be no allowance for personal feelings now. If they managed to break through and marched southward, joining the forces already there, the southern stronghold would be caught in a pincer movement. It would be nearly impossible for Class A to turn the tides at that point. Maxim just needed to conquer the western stronghold first.
After sending the newly arrived company to join the other troops in the forest, Maxim stomped back to the front line, longsword in hand. “Stella Achilles!” he roared. “I, Maxim Achilles, will be your opponent! Come face the Trouverean Tiger for yourself! Let us fight fairly—”
He swung his sword up as he spoke, positioning himself for the fight to come. As he did, however, a tremendous rumble sounded from the northern mountainside and drowned out the rest of his words. There were few sounds more ominous than that of hundreds of boulders tumbling down a rocky decline. He’d barely twisted around before the rumbling itself was drowned out by a terrifying, almost primal cry that echoed through the mountains. As the animalistic cry faded away, it was replaced with another rumble. It wasn’t the same sound of falling rocks, but of trembling earth—
“S-S-STAMPEDE!” someone shouted from the forest, soon joined by cries of terror.
Amid all the chaos, however, the last sound Maxim heard was barely a whisper, cutting through the clamor like a knife. “Oh, Uncle...? You’re facing the wrong way, you know?”