Hooo..we’re putting up a good fight against an enemy twice our size!”

Raidorl claps his hands in admiration as he sits on top of the city wall and watches the two armies battle it out.

Looking down, he saw that the Royal Army had successfully lured the Imperial Guard into a bitter counterattack.

The unexpected counter-attack by the Royal Army, which had seemed to be crushed by sheer numbers and geographical advantage, was a joy to watch from above.

“Perhaps there’s nothing for me to do? You’re a great protector of the country. I’m so proud of you.”

“No. This is only the beginning.”

While Raidorl applauded and praised his commander, Garst, the general shook his head calmly.

“The attack was a clever manoeuvre because he was unaware of his opponent. If it was Gracos Barzen, he would have made it up in no time.”

“You’re praising the enemy general, aren’t you? Are you so sure that the Imperial commander is a good man?”

“An old general, but a fierce one at that. If it weren’t for the legendary weapon of the holy sword, a man like him would be called a hero.”

Garst answers Raidorl’s question with a faraway look in his eyes.

“The only thing I have over the man is my youth. If he hadn’t been born, the Empire would be half the size it is today.”

“Heh .... that again.”

He had an amused smile on his face and turned his attention to the hill where the imperial camp was located.

Even Raidorl, who has better eyesight than most men, could not see the enemy general there.

Even so, the mere thought of an extraordinary commander there makes Raidorl blood boil.

“I won’t be tempted. It’s my first battle and I’m getting excited. It’s bad for morale to get carried away on the battlefield.”

“As a vassal, I’m glad to hear it. I am glad to see that you are a hero, chosen by the Holy Sword, and that you take pleasure rather than fear in battle.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. I’m just a kid who hasn’t grown up yet.”

Raidorl slaps both cheeks, tightens his loose face, and turns his attention once again to the battlefield.

The Imperial troops, whose first army had been half destroyed by a painful counterattack, soon came forward with their rearguard troops.

They did not charge with the momentum of the hill as the first army did, but spread out slowly across the battlefield, shields raised above their heads to block arrows.

While using their shields to block covering fire from the fortress, they gradually close the distance to the Royal Army. Behind them, another force is deployed, firing their bows from the heights of the hill at the Royal Army in a tight formation.

“They seem to have found a way to deal with it. You old bastard.”

Garst swears with an unusually contorted expression.

With a glance at the general, Raidorl looks sternly at the Imperial troops’ counterattack.

From the Blaine fortress, arrows are being fired at the imperial soldiers surrounding the kingdom army, but the shields overhead are blocking the arrows and making them less effective. On the other hand, from the top of the hill, arrows are fired at the Royal Guards, which are also defended by shields.

If the conditions are the same, then the difference in numbers will be highlighted in the battle situation.

The imperial army has already surrounded the kingdom’s army and is attacking from the front and from both sides.

Thanks to their custom-made long spears, the Royal troops were able to defend themselves well, but as time went on, the difference in strength pushed them backwards.

The Royal troops were already pushed to the front of the Blaine fortress, and there was no way to escape.

“It seems that the time has come for you, Your Royal Highness. Please fight like the legends have foretold.”

“I will, ...., for he seems to have reached the end of his patience!”

Raidorl smiles and clutches his sword at his waist.

Since the beginning of the battle, the holy sword Dáinsleif has been vibrating in its scabbard.