Marnadal basked under the scorching sunlight, a heat wave dividing the valley into two battlefields. One was at the valley’s entrance, and the other was on the valley’s slopes. Standing before the valley’s entrance was Cintra’s commander—Vissegerd. His army came with him.

Vissegered lowered his head, and a few arrows whizzed through the air, raining down on his troops. “Men, attack! Attack!” Vissegerd roared like a lion. “Crush these southern bastards! Crush them!”

The war horn boomed, and two armored troops ran down the mountain like an avalanche. Then they clashed on the battlefield. The soldiers’ eyes glinted with a fierce fire, and they threw themselves into the battlefield.

Deafening roars echoed in the air around them, and shouts of war rumbled through the air. Metal gleamed under the sunlight, clashing on the battlefield.

One Nilfgaardian soldier roared to the heavens, and the veins on his face popped. His helmet trembled as the soldier swung his sword upward, slicing the neck of an incoming Cintran soldier.

The soldier covered his neck and howled, but he did not fall. Despite the pain, he charged toward the soldier. A scuffle ensued, and he stabbed the Nilfgaardian soldier with a dagger. Blood spurted, splattering the Cintran emblem.

Both soldiers drew their last breath together, their eyes still wide open and glaring at each other. It didn’t take long for the war to rise in tension. People would die with every passing moment, and a lot of the Cintran soldiers would bring their enemy down with them even if that was the last thing they did.

***

Part of the Nilfgaardian troops circled around the valley in an attempt to attack from behind, but the Cintran army was fighting them there as well.

“Attack! Kill the sons of bitches!”

“Sync up your direction! Don’t sway from the formation! Stay in your group!” Jan shouted. “Vanguard, kneel! Rear guard, stay up! Stab your spears into the ground.”

Jan looked around him. The battle was going strong in the valley. He could feel the heat from here. The Nilfgaardian troops looked like a sea of black, but Cintran’s soldiers stood their ground defiantly. They huddled together, shields held close to one another. Spears and halberds would pierce through the cracks and charge straight at the incoming Nilfgaardian troops.

The Nilfgaardian soldiers were unrelenting, just like waves crashing against reefs. Eventually, one of the knights managed to break through the wall of shields. He sat on the back of his horse and swung his morningstar down at the soldier who was stabbing at him. The soldier died, but another soldier struck the Nilfgaardian, slicing his head off.

A small victory, but it couldn’t stop the Nilfgaardians’ footsteps.

***

The commanders looked grim. This attack came too suddenly. Nilfgaard’s troops left Amell without anyone knowing. The soldiers in Erlenwald hadn’t managed to light up the woods either, for the enemy soldiers didn’t seem to be stopped at all. Cintra had just started building up their defenses, but now they had to give up.

The trenches they dug at the entrance of the valley slightly slowed the cavalry down, stopping their army from fully surrounding the Cintran forces. But everything else they did failed to create much of a ripple.

Nilfgaard had with them a group of mages. They weaved a sturdy magical shield with mana and stopped Cintra’s first wave of attacks. And since they were heavily guarded, the mages could cast hail, fireballs, lightning, and gales at the Cintran army without care.

The only sorceress Cintra had couldn’t help much, and because of that, the Cintran army suffered great casualties. It wasn’t until they sent out crossbowmen armed with dimeritium bolts did the mages stop attacking. They were forced to leave the battelfield lest the bolts kill them.

Even so, the mages would still seize every opening they could to harass and trip the Cintran army up.

***

Eist rode through the battlefield beside the valley, slicing off the head of a Nilfgaardian soldier. His hair billowed in the wind, the king roaring into the heavens. The king stood behind his cavalry, swinging his blade at any enemy who came close. It was his wish to enter the valley and fight with his brethren, but now he was forced to stay behind his troops to order them around.

“Your Majesty, you must stay calm.” Captain Kenneth wiped the blood and sweat from his face. “You mustn’t risk your life. You’re the heart and soul of the troops.”

“Eist, everyone has a role to play here, including you. Your existence is a huge morale boost for our soldiers.” Calanthe lost her usual elegance. She looked a bit worn down. Her face was drenched in sweat, and her hair was sticking to her forehead. Her skin looked oily and wrinkly. Stress lines extended from the sides of her nose, and grime covered her face. She looked like a scrawny man in that attire of hers.

The queen stared into the battlefield. Blood had drenched the land, and screams of death and battle shook the firmament. Still her soldiers charged headlong into the battlefield, even though they would die in the end. The queen teared up.

This battle ran from morning until afternoon. Nilfgaard outnumbered Cintra two to one. By now, the landscape was covered in corpses. Cintra and Nilfgaard had a combined casualty of eight thousand, and Nilfgaard had a slight advantage at the moment.

But even though Cintra’s army managed to go toe-to-toe when they were at a disadvantage, that situation would soon change. Cintra had lost more than one-third of its army, and reinforcements had slowed. On the other hand, Nilfgaard’s troops didn’t seem to diminish at all. That could only mean one thing: Nilfgaard still had reinforcements coming their way.

“I see we couldn’t trust the witcher’s prediction entirely. Nilfgaard’s invasion started six months earlier.” The light in her eyes dimmed. “Is this fate?”

If Cintra had enough time to prepare, they might have actually stopped Nilfgaard’s footsteps, but now defeat was only a matter of time. Even if Skellige managed to arrive the next day, all they could do was defend their kingdom’s gates. “But Nilfgaard will pay a heavy price. Cintra will make sure of that, even if that’s the last thing we do.”

***

Triss was wearing conservative attire. Her collar was clasped shut, and all her curves were covered under fabric. She kept looking around the battlefield. A troop of shieldbearers protected her, and the soldiers manning the mangonel would shoot wherever she was pointing. Wherever she pointed was where the Nilfgaardian mages hid.

These mages were cunning. They would disguise themselves as soldiers, hide themselves with an invisibility spell, or make themselves lighter. All so they could traverse the battlefield at a greater speed and attack the Cintran army easily.

Only Triss could see through their tricks.

Another rain of arrows thumped against the shields around her.

***

The sorceress was breathing heavily, sweat trickling down her cheek. Her eyes were wide, and her chest was trembling. She was exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally as well. She had never felt this tired before. Sweat kept pouring all over her, and her heart was thumping thunderously in her chest.

A hint of regret filled her heart. Am I going to die? Under this hail of arrows? She shook her head and stubbornly gritted her teeth. With her sheer will, the sorceress held herself up. And it was then she saw a silhouette whizzing past her, fast as lightning. All she managed to see was something grey.

It wasn’t a mage, nor was it a sorcerer. But for some reason, that silhouette looked familiar. He was weaving through the edges of the Nilfgaardian army. His head was covered in a hood, and a cloak shielded his body, billowing in the air like dragon wings.

Wonder who that guy is.

***

***