The fog and Maple's non-stop chatter became Eyna's bane of existence.
"Wonder if they'll even find each other in this weather," the dragon mumbled, squinting.
Searching for the right point of view, she talked more than the commentator herself.
Eyna tried her best to tune her voice out, but her lack of responses didn't faze her. The broadcast followed a lone scout from Aset, moving blind in the thick undergrowth.
"Oh, he's in for a surprise," Maple giggled, poking her side for attention.
She liked her better while asleep—but those dragon eyes were sure in another league.
Eyna only realised what was happening when it was already too late.
She and the soldier in question as well.
"We have first blood," she yelled, her voice an artificial echo in the distance. "Lord Schwertburg's scout had to surrender after running into the Rogue Rejects' ambush."
"Heh, calling it an ambush is a bit generous," Maple laughed, which seemed fair.
Those tribesmen couldn't see a foot beyond their own noses, either.
The first one to strike won, the weather making strategising impossible.
And his master had to go up against that old schemer captain like this?
"Don't hate me, but Vargas has all the advantage he could want," the dragon mumbled, looking for a fresh point of view. Was she reading her mind? "He strikes me as a much better tactician."
It took Eyna a lot of self-control not to respond, but Maple wouldn't shut up.
"After Sorell made that critical mistake in the previous round—oh, look at that."
Another random encounter, over before it even started.
She had to focus.
"A Rogue recon has also fallen," her voice boomed. "And let's not forget that the Rejects started with fewer soldiers. Lord Halstadt must take the initiative if he wants to win this fight."
Yes, her master had to take over.
He was now both the commander and the general of his forces.
But most of all, he was the most tired.
"Mhm, he had huge bags under his eyes this morning," Maple said, searching for the next interesting thing. "And stumbled around like an undead. Those girls pushed him too hard."
"Wha—"
Eyna slapped her lips before she continued.
She was a commentator now, a job her master had given her. No matter how jealous she felt.
If only she had a chance to meet him today, too—
The mention of the first haremettes triggered something inside her. She knew they were preparing for a wedding. And a double one at that.
She knew her place, but it still hurt that they hadn't invited her.
And after that terrifying reveal with the king and the nomads yesterday—
"Yeah, for something they have cancelled, I bet there are more visitors now than at the opening." Maple's chatter once again dragged her back to the present.
She followed the point of view of another scout, but Eyna could only see the fog.
Damned weather.
But well, if the visibility hindered planning, her master might've profited from it.
Following the logic that Vargas was the better strategist—
"Hmm, that could be," Maple said out of the blue. "Cuz' Konny has no plans whatsoever."
The best Eyna could do was to shoot that dragon an annoyed glance.
She was deep inside her head, and she couldn't even call her out while running the broadcast.
Although if it was true, there was nothing she could do about it anyway.
To calm her nerves and divert her thoughts, she analysed the situation for the viewers.
"The teams' outfits are more conventional today," she said, her voice carrying far. "Leather armour and wooden shields. Less noisy, but it sacrifices some protection."
"A single scratch would send them packing anyway," Maple interjected.
Eyna ignored it, focusing on her job.
"The Rogue Rejects opted for spears and axes, about half-half in composition. The Aset Defenders brought fewer spearmen, the rest of the company carrying swords."
"It's not fewer, sweetheart," the dragon noted. "They have more men. A perfect mirror build."
The most annoying part was that she was right.
About the numbers, the leaders, and the potential outcome.
She wanted to prove her wrong, but only her master could have done that now.
***
"Why can't I keep all my men in one place?" Konrad groaned, waiting for his scouts' reports.
"Because of the terrain," Welf said. The fact that he couldn't recognise a rhetorical question felt like an insult. "It would be only viable in the arena. The paths here are too narrow."
"Don't you say?" he snapped, his voice harsher than he wanted.
But no matter how he tried to calm himself, he failed.
He was too tired, too stressed by the future, and too inexperienced for all this.
And the disagreement between his three advisors didn't help.
"We should stay here and wait for them to push," Sorell recommended. Too careful ever since his blunder from yesterday. "The spearmen could hold them up until the axemen reinforce."
"We'd run out of time," Kade grunted. "Tournament or not, the same rules apply."
Which wouldn't have been a problem if the two men-at-arms were the same size.
But in case the one hour passed and there was no active combat, the side with more warriors standing would have won. In this case, that was the Aset Defenders, so they weren't in a hurry.
"They probed from the south, and nobody returned from the centre. We should go there."
"Which one?" Konrad asked, his head a jumbled mess of maps and magic formulas.
"The centre," the blacksmith said.
"Envelop them from the south and the north instead," Kade countered.
Only Sorell remained quiet, scratching his head.
"The terrain on the flanks is bad," Konrad claimed, having traversed those paths earlier. "Only a single file could fit. If they stop us there, we'd be stuck until encircled. No good."
"The centre it is," the redhead repeated, but he was already shaking his head.
"Too swampy. We couldn't form a cohesive battle line. Their swordsman could slip through, and they have the numerical advantage. Unless—"
He had an idea that flipped the basics of formation tactics on its head.
"We should launch a frontal assault with the axemen," Konrad suggested. "They'll lead, and the spearmen will follow behind. That would make our formations denser on those narrow paths."
"It would sacrifice the spearmen's reach, though," Sorell protested. "If they spot us—"
"In this fog?" Welf interjected, rubbing his jaw. "And the axemen could carry the shields, too."
"If anything, our troops will have a bigger momentum. We could push the enemy off the trails and into the swamp," Konrad said. Well, it was more of wishful thinking than a tried method.
"Even if the weather holds, they could flank us," the veteran knight pointed out.
The weather was a huge risk. It wouldn't have been long before the fog started to clear up.
Focusing on safety and advancing at a slower pace would've hurt more in the long run.
"You took a risk yesterday, and you failed," Konrad noted, his voice level. "I bet they think we'd play it safe after a blunder like that, too. Let's prove them wrong. Frontal assault with everyone."
The sooner they'd set out, the more likely the weather would have aided them.
And if he were dead wrong, the sooner he'd find out.
If they had to lose, he'd rather lose fast so that the angel could adjust her plans faster.
And the most important part—he could finally rest.