With the new destructive machine causing wreckage on the enemy force, though not a truly devastating force, its psychological toll on the enemy force was immense, especially on its command structure. General Dorvik seized the opportunity and made a strong push through the enemy lines with the high-spirited soldiers, leading the enemy force to make a full-scale retreat. A crushing victory was achieved on the right flank. Dorvik led his troops and flanked the main army of General Alviz, the ballista targeting Alviz himself, but couldn't reach as he was far back from the front.
The news of enemy general Mouriz's death reached all across the battlefield, along with the retreat of the enemy right flank; the battlefield was once again shifting. The spirit of the left flank, now led by Knight Captain Cedric, was regained. With that, Cedric yelled, "God has spoken! Victory is in sight, one more push and home will be waiting, avenge General Rolith and bring victory home!" The men chant in unison, "For General Rolith," as they push forward with all their might, their force regaining momentum, steadily chipping the enemy force.
All of Cedric's unit was now actively engaging in close combat, and the fruit of their training showed; his men performed better than all other units. The commander of the enemy force started retreating as his army was being pushed back. Just then, Cedric shouted, "Fenric!!" Immediately, an arrow zipped and pierced through the opposition commander. Cedric called for Torric, and he nodded and smashed through the wall of troops, clearing the way for Cedric. Lucen took the flank following the opposition commander to cut his exit. Cedric, once close enough, threw his spear; it thundered right through the opposition commander's back. He dropped down from his horse.
Another cheer of victory erupted, the left flank decisively winning. The remaining force of the enemy retreated. Now, Cedric's army was freed, and he sent his force to flank the enemy's main army from the left. Now being attacked from three sides, General Alviz was doomed to fail, so everyone thought.
Nightfall was approaching, the sky darkening as the Twilight slowly faded.
Orlen rode towards Cedric, his voice shaky. "Dalmora… it has fallen." Cedric froze as though time itself had stopped; the noise of the battle disappeared like he was in the abyss, and he stopped blinking entirely. Orlen called out to him repeatedly, but he was lost. He shouted this time, "Cedric!" The young knight Captain snapped out of it, "What do you mean Dalmora has fallen?" Orlen released a sharp exhale. "I meant what I said! As I saw the mysterious cavalry force come out of the forest line, I followed the forested area and found unusual trails, which led me back to Dalmora, where they now wave the flag of Arizz (King Cialic and General Alviz's kingdom). We may have won the battle, but we lost the war."
Cedric put his palms on his eyes, tilting his head back and growling like a dying beast. The main enemy force could be seen retreating, Dravem's army rejoicing in what they thought was a victory. The men raised their swords, taunting the retreating force, "Run Cowards", they now chanted, "Long Live The Kingdom Of Dravem," but their joy didn't last, with the news of Dalmora's fall spreading quickly, their joy turned into despair and agony. From the crowd, howls of realisation could be heard, "Then was all this for nothing? My brother… Did he die for nothing? Another voice could be heard, "What about my family in Dalmora, what will happen to them?"
Darkness fell upon them literally and figuratively, as the sky turned dark and their hearts with it. It was, as Orlen had feared, a pyrrhic victory. They drag themselves through the muddy and bloodied field with lifeless bodies beneath every step. They camped on the corner of the forested lines, dead silence amongst them, only the screaming of the wounded could be heard. A few young boys from Dalmora started weeping softly, worried for their families. When they gathered to eat, the food was stale and tasteless, but it was all they got; the food supply had been sabotaged. With grimness on their face, they force themselves to eat a porridge of God knows what, the campfire only being their source of comfort and fleeting pleasure.
Rodric went to sit with the soldiers with the same food the soldiers were getting while Dorvik and Orvyic stayed at the leisure of their camp, he stood up his voice steady and eyes heavy "As a boy i was a clumsy creature maybe I still am, either way I was a boy of small stature, dull of mind, ill-suited, to put it in plain i lacked behind my peers in every field" the soldiers turned their gaze towards Rodric eyes widening but face stilled. He continued, "So the lads my age tormented me throughout my boyhood, life was hard on me, yet it gave me one thing, 'resilience." Through it, I stand before you as a Knight Commander, and my son Cedric as a Knight Captain. When I look back, I know this much: had my early years been easy, I would never have met his mother, nor been blessed with such a son."
Cedric sat the other way, leaning on Torric, his head tilted back. He put a scarf on his face, covering it. The men shifted their posture, their bodies straightening, their gazes more alert, like they were waiting for Rodric to continue. So Rodric proceeded to read the room, "As such, I believe this hard time shall pass and its struggle will bear a better future for you as an individual and for Dravem." One of the man muttered "Our struggles doesn't guarantee a better future" Rodric finished his porridge and continued "It needen have to, but you always have a choice, you either whine about your hardship or use it to build a stronger version of yourself, maybe even then it wouldn't lead to anything meaningful but even so it will without a doubt shaped a better future relative to whining and doing nothing."
The men nodded in agreement. Lucen spoke up, "Knight Commander Rodric, you truly are a wise, strong and humble man, a contrast from your boyhood days. And your son Cedric is equally a man of courage, and with great talents." Rodric chuckled, "That is my boy."
On the other side of the campfires, Selara tended to the wounded; she, above all, witnessed the horrifying aftermath of war: Severed limbs hung by threads of muscle, and men with half-split faces gasped for breath that would not come. A young man with both his legs gone, his blood lost beyond saving, whispered, "Will I … go to the middle land after my death… or no such thing exists, I fought my hardest...I should be allowed in, right?" Selara eyes narrowed, breathing slowly, "I reckon so," he smiles, "So which will it be?" This time she took a deep breath, "I don't know but surely a place better than this." he closed his smile, still lingering, "I believe so too."
Rhydan arrived at the scene, his hand covered with bloodied cloth. "Has his pulse halted?" Selara nodded. He replied, "What a cruel world we breathe in, that boy doesn't look a day older than 16." Selara put her hand over her eyes, taking a breath. "Indeed, it is most unfortunate for such young lives to be out here." As Selara tends to Rhydan's injury, "Selara, about the infamous prophecy and rumours people whisper about, what exactly might it be? I am a bit out of place, for I come from the outskirts of the kingdom."
Selara, with a heavy voice "The people believe all of this bloodshed is occurring as told in the prophecy, 'one kingdom must rise above all to open the inner gates, those who fail will be damned, ' and so the coalition army. Rumours had it Morhan was behind it, and they will soon seize the opportunity to conquer Dravem when it's weakened."
Rhydan's eyebrow raised. "The inner gate? Isn't that a great wonder of our world.. a sight to behold, but nothing more"
Selara sighs, "Maybe, but men are stupid... they would believe in anything to comfort themselves from the unknown."
As the star shone brighter and the moon dazzled above the whole circular land, the messenger had reached the capital. The news of the defeat was hard to swallow. "Grave news from the battlefield, my Lord, our army has won the battle against the coalition army, but…." Before he could finish, the King cut him off. "What? How is that grave? This is fabulous news, I shall throw a feast tonight," the chancellor said cautiously. "Please continue," so he continues, "But… Dalmora... it has fallen." The king's pupils shrank as though he had seen a ghost, his breath caught halfway up his throat, lips parted but soundless.