The air was clearing, and although the lowlands were still largely covered it was probably only a matter of minutes before the entire battlefield became visible.

"This is our chance!" Victor exclaimed. "Let us advance with our troops and crush them!"

"My Lord, perhaps we should wait until the fog lifts completely, or until news arrives from your uncle the General."

"I have no intention of allowing that stuffed shirt to take all the credit for this victory. Give the order to advance!"

Trying to silence the anxiety that didn't make him feel calm, Lefde could do nothing but obey, and preceded by a solemn roll of drums, most of the troops began to descend along the ridge.

The rebels responded by shooting arrows, but precisely because of the fog that had not yet risen further down, their shots were inaccurate, completely missing the target.

This invigorated the soldiers, who, spurred on by the officers, increasingly accelerated their pace, finally launching a real charge.

Like an unstoppable wave, they descended from Ratcliffe, ready to climb up the opposite hill impetuously.

Meanwhile the fog was dissipating there too, swept away by the north wind which, when Eirinn's troops had almost reached the foot of the climb, finally opened the way to the sun... revealing the great deception.

Twenty large cannons, each surrounded by three crewmembers and resting on light but sturdy wooden barrels, awaited their arrival, appearing from the mist like infernal spirits ready to claim their tribute of blood and souls.

The commanders didn't even have time to order the charging soldiers to stop.

"Fire!"

The roar of the grapeshot coming one after the other reached Victor and Lefde's headquarters before they could even realize what was happening; and such was the dismay that appeared in their eyes at the sight of hundreds of soldiers disembowelled like animals in a slaughterhouse that the General felt his heart stop in his chest.

"Curse! We had them under our noses the whole time!"



"What do you mean, discuss the terms to surrender? I can't believe you're actually thinking about giving up!"

Come on Scalia, it's not complicated. I thought you were a bit smarter than this.

"I understand." Adrian said anticipating me. "This is bluffing."

"By now it seems clear to me who we are dealing with. Victor is a child seeking glory, and Philippe an ambitious nobleman who considers himself a great general. As long as they are there we won't have to worry about General Lefde, who instead seems to be a much more unpredictable guy."

"So this embassy would serve to make him believe that we are in trouble?" Septimus asked

"It's not exactly an act, actually. We're really in trouble, and a good general would be able to take advantage of it. But if we stimulate their ego by convincing them that they can achieve a quick victory, they will fall into our trap like fishes in a net. To make the play even more credible we will abandon Ratcliffe Hill to reposition ourselves here, on the other side of the plain."

"They will think that we want to defend the road even at the cost of leaving a more favorable but also more exposed position."

Well done Oldrick. Your reasoning ability is finally starting to reflect your age.

"So if they think we're desperate enough to make such moves, they'll attack us hoping to end the game with just one battle."

Now I knew I had done well to promote Richard; he had been the slave of a very famous general of the Principality who fought in many noteworthy battles between Patria and Torian, it was only natural that he had ended up learning something.

He certainly wasn't a new Scipio, but at least he knew how to distinguish a spear from a pike.

"As Adrian said, this area is perpetually shrouded in fog, especially in the early morning. And we will take advantage of it."

"What do you have in mind?" Septimus asked

"We will form frontline as wide as possible, which goes from the edge of the woods in the north to the banks of this marsh in the south. In this way we will be able to cover the entire slope that descends towards the plain below. This one here, just south of the swamp, does anyone know what village it is?"

"It's Mistvale. My grandparents live there. They fish for frogs and crustaceans in the lakes all around."

"So I assume you have a good knowledge of this area. Then I will assign this flank to you and the Fourth Division. You will occupy the village after evacuating the inhabitants and form a separate front."

"It seems like a pretty exposed position." Jack said

"Precisely." Adrian replied. «It's a perfect bait. Am I right?"

"Even with the fog it won't take long for the explorers to discover this second front. Then they will send part of their army to defeat it, gain control of the road, and attempt a flanking maneuver. Of course, if they succeed we would find ourselves in big trouble, so it is necessary for this front to hold out for as long as possible. I will tell Sapi to support you. She alone should be more than enough."

And it will also be a great way to test her skills.

"I think I'm starting to understand. This way their army will be divided in two."

"Exactly Richard. Their forces are numerically much superior, but separated they will only be two small armies that are much more vulnerable. The important thing will be to ensure that they cannot reunite when the counterattack begins. Natuli."

"Yes?"

"Do you see this little indentation behind the hill? It's a great hideout. You and your unit will stand here and wait for my signal, then you will bypass Mistvale and attack the enemy engaged in battle from behind. They will definitely be tired, so subduing them and pushing them to retreat or surrender won't be a big problem, especially if Philippe is in command. By doing so, the southern front will find itself completely isolated, leaving us free to concentrate on the counterattack on the main force."

"Sorry to tell you, but this plan is based on a very questionable premise. When have you ever heard of a cavalry charge, even made up of archers, launched in the middle of a fog?"

"I'm afraid she's right." Adrian said. "Once a charge has been launched, it can hardly be stopped or changed its direction. How will they attack if they don't even know where the enemy is?"

"The fog will lift. It always lifts, usually around noon. It will hide our maneuvers, and once it disappears, it will allow us to launch the counterattack. And in reality it's precisely on the fact that it will lift that I am counting on."

"What do you mean?" Oldrick asked

"I want your artillery positioned right here, in the heart of the valley. Hidden in plain sight. Lefde may keep that hothead Victor at bay for a while, but I'm sure that as soon as the fog starts to lift he will receive the peremptory order to attack. His soldiers will end up straight under the fire of your cannons without even realizing it. When they have been properly mowed down, a simple charge will be more than enough to rout them."

"But if we're in the fog, how will we know when to prepare to shoot, or that the enemy is actually walking into the trap?"

"I thought about this too. I will order our troops on the hill to make a lot of noise. As long as you hear us screaming it will be proof that everything is going according to plan. Furthermore, the noise will hide any noises from our maneuvering units. As for when to prepare to shoot, just listen to their drums."

"And will this be enough?"

"Of course not, sister. Not without great losses on our part if we had to go up the Ratcliffe hill attacked by their archers. This is why while Jack will lead the frontal assault, you and Richard will have already led your troops north, bypassing the valley hidden behind these hills. Even if Victor senses our plan and attempts a desperate defense of Ratcliffe with his remaining forces, he will not be able to resist a combined attack from three sides."

"It seems like a plan that's totally worthy of you, if it weren't for the fact that it seems to rely a lot on luck." Adrian said. "If the fog were to rise too early all our maneuvers would be discovered prematurely, vice versa if it were to rise too late Septimus and his men might not be able to resist long enough, ruining everything. Are you sure this will work?"

"Trust me, it will work."

Also because it already worked once.

More than once in my old life I had seen my plans thwarted by the intervention of nature.

I had always told myself that no one can control it, and that if something went wrong because of it, only fate could be blamed.

But now I knew I had been wrong all along.

Maybe nature cannot be controlled, but it can certainly be predicted. You just need to understand the signs.

This is also why I had chosen to be a hunter; to learn to read what was once obscure to me.

By the end of that battle I would find out if the conquest of Basterwick had been just a lucky coincidence or if I had finally managed to match the only enemy I had always feared.



"Voilà, le soleil de Mistvale."

"What?" Adrian asked as Daemon smiled and looked at the sun

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Come on, now is the time. Give the signal."

"Yes, sir."

A flaming arrow launched towards south heralded the appearance of hundreds of mounted archers led by Natuli who entered the space between the base of Ratcliffe and the village of Mistvale, cutting the enemy front in two, attacking Philippe's soldiers from behind and turning them into pincushions.

At the same time, Jack led the charge across the hill, catching the enemy troops still dazed after being decimated by Oldrick's grapeshot unprepared and pushing them to flee within a few minutes.

The final blow came when the combined forces of Richard's First Division and Scalia's Great Guard attacked the right flank of Eirinn's army.

The name of the latter was not chosen by chance; they were minotaurs, orcs, kobolds, and each of them was worth ten soldiers, especially now that they had been properly trained.

Seeing Scalia among them, moreover as their commander, might have seemed strange, but in terms of brute force, she surpassed them all.

They were created above all to scare, because for a soldier there is nothing more terrifying than seeing three hundred thugs coming at you who made the ground rumble during the charge, handling axes and broadswords as if they were toys.

This was their first battle, but others would follow in the months and years to come.

And every time, just hearing their names, everyone would think back to that day, to the stories that were told about the terrifying Great Guard, and would feel a shiver down their spines.

Lefde desperately tried to regroup his troops, but by now, they had largely abandoned the higher positions, becoming vulnerable.

The right wing was overwhelmed before it could even rearrange itself to face the appearance of the enemy, and it was clear that the few reserves left to guard the base camp would not have lasted long before meeting the same fate.

"My Lord, we must retreat while we can!"

"Retreat? No way! There's no way I'm giving up on these yokels! My army can still fight!"

"My Lord! If also the left flank gives way, very soon we will no longer have an army! Please!"

No matter how Victor behaved, it was impossible to deny the evidence, and the moment his angry eyes turned away from the sight of the havoc that was happening in front of him, Lefde read that gesture as an admission.

"Sound the retreat! Return to the fort!"

Fortunately, the enemy did not rage or pursue the fleeing enemy, allowing the survivors to retreat in relatively order and without suffering too many losses.

But despite everything, some still refused to resign themselves to defeat.

"Medea, didn't you hear the horn? We have to go!"

In the end, Kassia and the other Furies almost had to forcibly drag away their commander, who even after running out of arrows continued to hurl everything that came within range at the enemies celebrating their victory.

"See you soon big sister!" Sapi said to Ignes as she retreated together with her men. "I hope we meet to fight again!"

"You can be sure of it, fur ball! And next time I'll color my ax with your blood!"

Once again, Daemon had accomplished an unthinkable feat, even for the most experienced soldiers in his army.

From the top of his white horse, Marengo, the Supreme Commander of the National Guard and Prime Minister of the Free State observed the plain and hill before him covered with dead bodies, silent and frightening witnesses of his great victory.

"La victoire est à nous."