The heavy cavalry reined in their mounts, the warhorses slowing to a trot as their hooves churned the blood-soaked snow. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of sweat, mingling with the faint musk of horseflesh. The knights' armor, once gleaming, was now splattered with crimson, the grim evidence of their brutal charge. As the formation came to a halt, several riders leaned forward, retching onto the ground, their stomachs rebelling against the carnage they had wrought.
Clang! A few warhorses, their strength spent, collapsed under the weight of their armored riders, their labored breaths steaming in the cold air. These were the older mounts, their endurance no match for the grueling demands of battle. Their nostrils flared, exhaling clouds of vapor as they lay panting, their bodies trembling from exhaustion.
The charge had been a resounding success—no casualties for Sedona's soldiers, though a few riders nursed injuries. Some had dislocated wrists from the sheer force of their strikes, while others had been knocked from their mounts, trampled in the chaos but spared from death. The victory, however, felt bittersweet, the enemy's weakness making the triumph almost too easy.
"Charge!" A faint, ragged cry broke the silence. Aiden, Ayesha, and Freya turned to see a lone knight charging toward them, his warhorse limping at a feeble trot. Behind him, a dozen surviving knights watched numbly, their faces etched with despair. Aya, the lone rider, was a pitiful sight—his body broken, his arms severed, yet he clung to the reins with his teeth, his single remaining eye burning with defiance. His horse, a grizzled veteran that had served him for fifteen years, moved with painful slowness, its wounds sapping its strength. Yet it carried its master forward, as if sensing his resolve to die with honor.
"He's a worthy opponent," Freya said, her voice low and solemn as she tightened her grip on her greatsword. Her wolf-like ears twitched, her expression hardening with respect. "I'll end it quickly, give him the rest he deserves." She had seen many foes fall today, but this knight's stubborn courage stirred something in her—a recognition of a true warrior's spirit.
With a flick of the reins, Freya urged her horse forward, its iron-shod hooves striking the ground with a steady rhythm. The beast accelerated, its powerful strides closing the distance to Aya. She watched him closely, noting the way he fought to stay upright, his body swaying but unyielding. His horse, too, seemed to share his resolve, its tear-streaked eyes fixed forward as it carried its master into his final charge. 'A loyal companion to the end,' Freya thought, her heart heavy with a strange mix of admiration and sorrow.
Aya coughed, blood dribbling down his chin, yet his teeth remained clamped on the reins, his legs gripping the horse's flanks with desperate strength. His vision blurred, his life flashing before his eyes like a lantern show—his youth, his triumphs, his love for Joy. His only regret was not spending more time with her, not noticing when the innocent smile had faded from her lips. 'I'm coming, Joy,' He thought, his heart aching with longing.
"Rest well," Freya said, her voice steady as she raised her greatsword. With a swift, graceful arc, the blade descended, her horse thundering past. A spray of blood bloomed behind her, marking Aya's end.
"Thank…" Aya's final word was a whisper, his gaze lingering on his horse, its familiar tear-streaked face the last thing he saw as darkness claimed him.
Freya pulled her reins, slowing her mount as she glanced back at the fallen knight. Her eyes drifted to the dozen remaining enemy knights, now surrounded by Sedona's light cavalry. A pang of unease tightened her chest. 'What drives a man like that?' She wondered. Compared to the corrupt nobles she despised, Aya's adherence to his knightly code was perplexing. Was it loyalty to a flawed cause? Duty to an unworthy lord? 'Humans are so complicated,' She thought, spitting out a trace of blood from her bitten lip. The victory felt hollow, the taste of it bitter on her tongue.
Aiden rode up, his massive frame imposing even in the aftermath of battle. He glanced at Aya's body, then turned to his soldiers. "Find a place nearby to bury him," He said, his voice gruff but respectful. "He was a true knight. He doesn't deserve to rot in the wild."
"Yes, commander," A soldier replied, hesitating as he glanced at Aya's horse, which stood stubbornly by its master's side, refusing to leave.
"Bury them together," Freya said, her tone flat but firm.
"Yes, ma'am," The soldier said, hurrying to carry out the order.
"That was… too quick," Ayesha said, shaking her Overlord Spear to dislodge the blood. Her voice carried a hint of disappointment. "I barely got to swing my spear before it was over."
Freya rolled her eyes, her wolf ears flicking. "Quick? No, it's not that it was quick—it's that our heavy cavalry was too strong. They didn't stand a chance." The enemy knights had been outmatched in every way—equipment, training, morale. Only their battle experience had given them any edge, and even that hadn't been enough.
"Clean the battlefield and tally our losses," Aiden ordered, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the soldiers.
"Yes, commander," A subordinate responded, relaying the command as soldiers fanned out to begin the grim task.
Aiden sighed, his broad shoulders sagging slightly. "This wasn't the test I'd hoped for," He muttered, glancing at the two hundred fifty light cavalry who stood watch over the remaining enemy knights. They hadn't even had a chance to engage, the heavy cavalry's dominance ending the fight too swiftly. 'We needed a real challenge to blood the recruits,' He thought, frustration creeping into his mind.
"Commander, we've captured the enemy leader," A soldier reported, as two others dragged a bound figure forward.
Aiden's eyes narrowed as he looked at Jesse, his voice cold. "Take him to Sedona City."
"Yes, commander," The soldiers replied, binding Jesse's hands, feet, and mouth with coarse hemp rope before hoisting him onto a horse like a sack of grain.
Jesse's eyes were wide with terror, his muffled protests stifled by the gag. 'How could this happen?' He thought, his mind reeling. Sedona City's three hundred knights, especially the hundred armored juggernauts and their iron-clad horses, had obliterated his forces with terrifying efficiency. His dreams of conquest lay in ruins, his pride shattered.
"Return to the city," Aiden commanded, waiting as the soldiers finished their work. A few squads remained to handle the cleanup, while the rest of the cavalry formed up for the journey back.
The hooves of Sedona's cavalry rang out in a crisp, rhythmic cadence, a stark contrast to the chaotic retreat of Jesse's knights. The tension of the battle gave way to relief, and smiles of survival broke out among the riders as they rode under the fading light.
Hours later, they reached Sedona City, the stone walls looming like a fortress of safety. Aiden, Freya, and Ayesha escorted Jesse to the castle, their silence heavy with the weight of the day's events.
Inside the castle's study, Lucas sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of parchment. The flickering light of a candle cast shadows across his face as he reviewed reports on the floating bridge construction and the workshop's production quotas. His mind was occupied with training schedules and resource allocation, the backbone of Sedona's growth.
Across the room, Mira sat quietly, her green eyes observing the scene. Amelia, seated nearby, was engrossed in her homework, her quill scratching across parchment as she practiced her letters. The sight was surreal to Mira—Amelia, an assassin trained by Big Sister, attending school like a common scholar. 'She's changed so much,' Mira thought, a mix of awe and unease stirring in her chest.
A sharp knock interrupted Lucas's thoughts. His dark eyes flickered as he called, "Enter."
The door creaked open, and Aiden strode in, shoving Jesse forward. Freya and Ayesha followed, their armor still stained with the day's bloodshed. Nicole and Annie immediately rushed to the beastgirls, their faces etched with concern.
"Are you hurt?" Nicole asked, her gray eyes scanning Ayesha and Freya for injuries.
"Not a scratch," Ayesha said, flashing a confident grin. "The enemy was too weak to touch me."
Lucas nodded at Aiden's report. "This is the ringleader?" He asked, his gaze settling on Jesse.
"Yes, Master," Aiden confirmed, his voice steady.
Lucas leaned forward, his expression calm but piercing. "You must be Viscount Jesse," He said, his tone deceptively mild.
"Mmph!" Jesse's muffled cries were stifled by the rope gag, his eyes wild with indignation.
"Untie him," Lucas said, waving a hand. He had questions, and he needed answers—about Count George, about whether this was a prelude to war or another probing attack.
"Yes, master," Aiden said, drawing his dagger and slicing through the ropes with a single motion.
Jesse gasped, sucking in air as the bindings fell away. His chest heaved, his face a mask of relief and fury. His eyes swept the room, lingering on the beastgirls with undisguised contempt before locking onto Lucas. "You dare attack Count George's knights?" He spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You've got some nerve!"
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