Sitting on a railing of her lookout tower, Eyna watched the clashing sides with confusion.
They, well, they weren't clashing at all.
"Aset's men-at-arms play a careful game," she commented, knowing her voice echoed in the arena far away. "They've sent their light infantry to explore the deeper woods, but—"
Whenever they encountered something, they retreated.
They seemed like cowards, but she couldn't broadcast that to all the viewers.
And it wasn't surprising when she considered their gear, even if she couldn't make sense of it.
They numbered too many to treat them as scouts; it was half the Defenders' fighting force.
But carrying only daggers without armor, they would have been too vulnerable in a fight.
Sure, they moved fast, but the constant retreats must have tired them out.
And it wasn't like Aset's duke couldn't afford their gear.
Lord Schwertburg was rich, unlike his master and the duchy of Halaima. The rest of his company was way better equipped, too, but they all stayed far behind.
And some of them carried long pikes? In these dense woods?
Eyna had no explanation for any of that—and she spent every day reading Kasserlane's codices for a month. She dove into strategy and tactics, old and new, desperate to please her master.
She considered that the broadcast might've missed something, but that was inconceivable.
Konrad was perfect in her eyes, so it had to be her glossing over an important cue instead.
"The Silver Bears are trying to flank the Defenders' formation, but it moves too fast."
The northern duke used much more conventional tactics.
His men carried maces and axes, clad in heavy armor, and moved in rigid formations.
They sacrificed mobility for safety, allowing Aset's vanguard to run laps around them.
But they didn't seem to mind.
Without ranged weapons or magic, it was all but a strange and tiring dance in the end.
"Who's going to lose their patience first, and what will happen when the two armies meet?"
Eyna didn't need to decode the tactics involved, but now she was too curious.
What was Vargas thinking?
His light infantry was fast, but they seemed useless.
Without armor, even the blunt weapons could have wounded them, and the rules were simple.
All injured soldiers had to leave the battleground.
The Bears could herd them in any way they wanted, whether they were slower or not.
Soon, the Defenders would've been out of space to run to, and then what?
"Are the Defenders hoping to drag part of the pursuers away and then turn on them?" she pondered, only to have something to say. "An obvious tactic, but the Bears see right through it."
The northern duke's army was too patient, too careful to fall for something so simple.
His commander led from the front, the duke keeping a quarter of his men in reserve.
But the pursuers still outnumbered the light infantry by a large margin.
"The Bears seem better equipped and less tired by the looks of it," Eyna noted.
Konrad thought of Vargas as a dangerous schemer and a great loss when he returned to Aset.
But why was he staying so far back?
Was it a strange tactic she couldn't understand, or cowardice? Did her master overestimate him?
It seemed impossible that the captain would fumble this much, and yet—
"The Defenders' vanguard is slowing down. Are they out of breath already?" she yelled, fired up by the dynamics of this strange dance. "The Bears are on their heels, but—"
They ran straight into a pike-wall.
So that's what those long shafts were for?!
"What a masterful ambush," she exclaimed, finally realizing what was happening.
The men Vargas set up had sprung their trap, pinning the fifth of the enemy's forces in one genius attack. It would've never worked in a real battle, Eyna was almost certain.
But the tournament's rules were strict.
Even the smallest scratch counted as an injury, and injured warriors had to surrender.
Five pikes in a narrow trail forced twenty Bears to give up before the rest of them intervened.
It was a humiliating defeat, but the battle was far from over.
"This ambush also exposed Aset's vulnerabilities," she yelled, eyes glued to the broadcast.
It seemed odd that Vargas and the duke himself would hide nearby this glass cannon they've set up. How and why did they reveal themselves?
Eyna didn't know, but the Bears' shield walls were quick to adapt.
"The noose is closing around the ambushers now," she noted. "They're enveloping and outnumbering the Defenders three to one."
To make it worse, the Aset pikemen were now sitting ducks with their long weapons.
And at the center of them, the Duke of Aset was also in a trap of his own formation.
"Is it the end for the Aset Defenders?" Eyna asked the rhetorical question.
Did Vargas miscalculate this much?
His plan seemed sound, catching her off guard despite seeing everything, too.
But the Silver Bears turned everything around and fast.
They outnumbered the ambushing force by a vast margin, and she didn't understand how.
"Their advance is much more careful now; they won't fall for another trap," Eyna claimed.
But it came at a cost. Weren't they far too careful and slow now?
The pikemen had to surrender first, their long weapons becoming their worst enemies.
Then, line after line of defence faltered, even the mastermind, Vargas, among the 'fallen'.
"The Duke of Aset is in trouble," she yelled. Eyna did her best to stay impartial, but deep down, she was still rooting for Gabrielle's father. "His champions can't hope to hold out against—"
She couldn't finish, the horn of surrender cutting her sentence in half.
But the sound came from somewhere else.
With her eyes locked on the Defenders' heroic last stand, she forgot about the other side.
The vanguard that she dismissed earlier surrounded the Bears' reserves.
And since then, another sizable force joined them.
Every able-bodied man, about three-quarters of the Aset Defenders, was there.
It was no longer a surprise that the ambushers were all but outnumbered.
The trap itself was a distraction, and Lord Schwertburg was a bait the Bears couldn't ignore.
Eyna couldn't believe she missed that, too, despite following her master's broadcast.
And without telepathy or messengers, the northern duke had no way of knowing how close he was to victory. Separated, he was unable to coordinate his men with his commanders'.
Let their phalanx fight a minute longer, and Lord Schwertburg would have fallen.
But all they saw was the approaching enemy outnumbering them, and the northern duke blew the horn. Vargas turned himself into a noble sacrifice to win an easy victory.
Of course, Konrad was right to fear this man.
How could she even question it?
"The fight is over," Eyna announced, feeling cheerful and out of breath. "The Defenders of Aset have won the Ducal Tournament's second match. The next bout will start in an hour."
And that was the day's main event.
His master would lead the Rogue Rejects against some western noble in an abandoned fort.
She had a fast horse waiting, so she could commentate on that fight as well, her heart almost jumping out of her chest. Compared to the first event in the arena—
She now understood why people liked these tournaments.
"I hope Master will be victorious," she muttered, face flushed as she rushed down the staircase.
Meanwhile, Konrad had somewhat bigger problems to worry about.