Chapter 424: Astellian First Blood
Lyan stood at the front of his troops, his breath heavy, his eyes focused on the retreating enemy. He raised his glaive, his voice filled with determination as he spoke.
"This is our chance! We’re taking the first blood!"
Lyan rode beside Alice, his expression calm but focused, the shaft of his glaive resting across his back. The horse beneath him stepped confidently, mirroring the aura of its rider. Lyan’s sharp eyes scanned the terrain ahead, taking in every detail, analyzing every rise and dip in the ground, preparing for what was to come. His companions, dressed in uniform armor with the crest of Astellia, followed behind with a precision that spoke of discipline.
Alice rode slightly ahead, her steely eyes reflecting the same determination Lyan wore. She turned to glance back at the troops, her gaze traveling over the focused faces of each soldier. Then, with a nod, Lyan gave her a smile—a signal of trust.
"Alice! I’m leaving it to you!" he called, his voice carrying easily over the rhythmic beat of their horses’ hooves.
Alice met his gaze, her lips curving into a confident smile. She straightened her posture, her presence radiating authority. The soldiers knew of her—the "Small General" of the legendary Mythril-ranked mercenary group, the Valkyries. There was no mistaking the determination in her eyes, and the soldiers listened attentively, their morale lifting as they looked to her for guidance.
"You heard the Baron! Everyone, prepare for engagement! Remember who you are fighting for. We fight for Astellia—for our families, our homes, and each other!" she declared, her voice strong and unwavering.
The soldiers responded with a unified cheer, the sound resonating across the field, filling the air with a sense of unity. Lyan remained silent but calm, his sharp gaze now resting on the horizon. He could see it all—the Varzadian advance, their forces steadily pushing forward, unaware of the trap waiting for them.
Alice raised her hand, and the motion rippled through the ranks like a wave. Soldiers moved into position, executing the orders with practiced precision. The crescent formation began to form, wide and expansive, designed to envelop the Varzadian advance.
"Form ranks!" Alice shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of movement. "Advance with discipline! Do not waver! Follow the Baron!"
The soldiers moved with practiced precision, the crescent expanding as they marched forward. The formation spread out wide, creating multiple points of engagement, intending to draw the enemy in. The confidence on Alice’s face was unmistakable, and her presence commanded the troops’ full focus. Lyan watched as she handled the troops, a small smile tugging at his lips.