Herald of Steel

The sun finally rose in all its magnificent glory after two whole days of relentless rainfall, finally signaling to the world it still existed.

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"Haha, looks like dawn has come early, Your Majesty. Ramuh blesses us again," Kefka credited the king for driving away the two days of relentless rainfall to give them the brilliant sunshine they were basking in.

"Those rats will not be able to run," Arazadm growled menacingly, eager to kill the mercenaries and if possible personally slay the mercenary commander or better yet capture and torture him.

Alexander also had a similar reaction to the rain stopping.

Remembering that Ramuh was the god of lightning, thunder, and rain, he remarked sarcastically to the nearby soldiers, "The rain has stopped. This signals that Adhania has lost Ramuh's favor." And only time would tell how right or wrong he was about this seemingly mundane statement.

The Adhanian army was led by Amenheraft, with its two generals being Kefka and Arazadm.

Manuk was not able to participate because of the immense workload he had to deal with as the archpriest, mainly overseeing the restoration of the Temple of Ramuh, which had been partly damaged during Ptolomy's brief rule.

Also, the greater reason was that Amenheraft saw no point in dragging him to battle when he outnumbered the enemy by double and they were reportedly running.

'What kind of a god can't beat a running army halve his size?' He pompously reasoned.

"Your Majesty, the army is ready. We are ready to march at the breath of your command," Arazadm who was a primarily military man, said giving a military to his king.

"Then, charge. I will personally behead that kingslayer." Amenheraft regally commanded, his eyes looking with imponderable hatred at the cliff Alexander had camped.

And soon the Adhanian army of twenty thousand (20,000), ten thousand (10,000) infantry and ten thousand (10,000) slingers marched to meet the Cantagenans, camped just four kilometers away.

And in just under an hour, the army crossed the flat plain where they had decimated the Cantagenans twice just five days ago and arrived at the foot of the valley housing their enemies.

Or so they thought as they could see the tents that likely housed their enemies, but no enemies, the tent's only inhabitants being miscellaneous paraphernalia.

Some of them even glittered with gold and silver, piles of tustas and ropes left strewn about, them shining back the rays of sunlight to all corners of the earth, enticing men from all over the globe like a siren to grab and possess them.

They had clearly run and run very recently given the state of things.

"Heh, craven cowards!" Sat atop his horse, Arazadm let out a snigger, which drew a similar expression from his king.

"Forward! Their supply wagons will slow them down. And I want them caught soon" Amenheraft felt every second Ptolomy lived, the more sin spread throughout the earth.

And so, like a firefly drawn to a flame, the entire army made its way up the valley, their eyes fixated not on their sides or around the slopes of the valley, but on the shiny prize waiting for them at the top, just begging to be taken.

So soon, without arranging any vanguard or rear guard, the entire army found themselves inside the 'abandoned' camp of the mercenaries.

And soon, some of the army began to lose cohesion as many began to break rank and take part in the looting of the tents.

These were not the regular armies of Cantagena, but mostly conscripts, and so discipline among them was low to begin with.

"Haha, we are gonna drink tonight, brothers."

"Oh, Meleka how long I haven't tasted that body."

"Look at these clothes. *Whistle*, fucking fancy."

"These uppity bitches have some good thing,"

At the sight of the unprotected riches, some soldiers threatened to turn into an unruly mob.

"Why are the soldiers breaking rank? Commanders, what are you doing?" Arazadm who was used to commanding professionals felt incensed at this shabby show of basic discipline.

"These are pathetic peasants. What did you expect?" Kefka only sneered.

"There's there a pile of gold right in front of them. They wouldn't be peasants if they could keep their greedy hands off of them," Amenheraft joined in on the taunt.

"Herald!" Amenheraft them sternly called for his messenger, and imperiously ordered, "Tell the commanders to kill two men from each of their phalanx formations and restore order." Amenheraft gave the cruel order.

"Yes…Yo.." The herald didn't get to finish as the sound of a loud trumpet being blown smashed into the ears of twenty thousand men.

And as if sparked by that sound, a second trumpet was blown, and hearing that a third trumpet and then a fourth and so on, almost like the musical version of lights turning on one after another and Amenheraft got the same sinking feeling he had given Agapios just five days ago.

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"Shit!" was the chosen curse word Amenheraft uttered out loud.

Immediately after the signal, the air was filled with roars of jubilant cries screaming, 'Charge!' which collided with pained howls of 'Ahhhh.'

"Get in formation! Get in formation!" Arazadm screamed.

But the sight of twelve thousand armed men, with their shields up, wielding three-meter spears and charging at them both from the back and front sent panic into the hearts of the spread-out soldiers.

"Ambush!" They immediately started screaming and started running haphazardly.

This trap sent the high commands' and particularly Kefka's into blind panic as he realized in horror that the king was with them, in the thick of it.

'I need to get His Majesty out of here. If anything happens to him…,' Kefka shuddered to think further.

"Your Majesty! Run! We have to run!" Kefka then stupidly shouted this at the top of his voice, causing the shrill cry to spread to the ears of all the soldiers, especially the nearby commanders.

"The king's leaving, the king's leaving!" Hearing this, some of the commanders started shouting in alarm and broke off to pave their own destiny.

"The king's gone, the king's gone!" The phrase changed a bit as it spread among the soldiers.

"The king's dead, the king's dead!" Then the phrase changed to a deadly one.

This rumor spread like wildfire, as it was human nature to spread the worst news in times of crisis.

"Let's go," Understanding the morale of the army destroyed, Amenheraft decided he would fight another day and escorted by eight hundred of his guard, attempted to leave the battlefield.

And the Adhanians, seeing their banner fall and the royal horse clad in gold turn tail and run, their formation melted like butter.

Thus, even before fighting, even before first contact was made, a brutal rout began, and just like that the war was over!

Seeing the mercenaries coming at them both from the northwest and southeast and their flanks compromised, the Adhanians started running down the east and west slope of the valley in a blind panic to escape the encirclement.

This caused many to trip and fall over the steep slope, and when they did, they rolled down the hill like a bowling ball, smashing against tens of their brothers on the way, forming a chain reaction and causing a grotesque avalanche of flesh, blood, and gore as many impaled themselves on the very spears they once carried, their own weapon seemingly turning against them.

"They are routing, We have won!" Some of the mercenaries shouted in ecstasy.

"Kill them all! Break rank and charge!" Seeing the battle finish even before it began, Alexander screamed in rapture and commanded his men to give up the bulky phalanx formation and just go and engage in melee to kill as many men as possible.

And the bloodthirsty mercenaries did just that, dividing them into small groups of five and ten and stabbing and slashing at the back of the screaming enemy.

Some tried to resist, some used their comrades as body shields, and some surrendered, but in front of the fierce omnidirectional attack by the mercenaries, the disorganized mob was slaughtered like pigs as many mercenaries lost their minds to grief, thinking what these animals had done to their loved ones just five days ago.

The muddy ground beneath them soon turned like the floor of a slaughterhouse.

"Hold! Hold the line, men." Some competent commanders tried to rally their troops and the stand out among them was Arazadm who had not fled with the king, but vowed to hold back the mercenaries as long as possible to buy time for the king.

And under his cry and prestige, they actually managed to gather some around them, mainly the trained slinger.

And soon these pockets of resistance began to spread and finally coalesce into a large contingent equivalent to a quarter of the total force, about five thousand (5,000) men around.

But these soldiers were the wrong type of people to join and fight on their own.

Because, they were slingers and not infantry, meaning they lacked the most important weapon in an ancient battlefield- the shield.

Thus all alone, with no shield support, their large numbers and constant attack soon drew the ire of Menes, who led Camius and Pallidus to crush the five thousand men with their three thousand, with Arazadm being slain by him and Camius, one through the stomach, other through the back.

Alexander saw everything unfold and although he was ecstatic inside, he didn't show.

Instead, he spoke to Menicus, who due to his age decided to take part in the melee, "If the Adhanians had held together and dug themselves in, even with this ambush, cracking them would have been hard."

"Because of the cowardice of a few men, a plausible victory was turned into an utter defeat." Menicus's sharp eyes had caught the precise moment Amenheraft had fled.

"Yes. And I intend to catch that coward! You are in charge," Alexander then rode down the valley followed by the hundred horsemen, intending to catch the biggest fish in the world.