CHAPTER 31: THE SECOND BATTLE

The air was dry as the ground was full of dust. It was the second battle and most likely the last. Everyone could feel it. They could feel the fear and the weight of what was coming.

Princess Nyella mounted her horse, with her armor that gleamed under the sunlight. Beside her stood the kingdom’s most powerful generals, people who had won many battles in the past. She turned around and gazed upon the soldiers behind her.

The soldiers of Ivarion, the Phoenix guards, the royal guards. But still, there were barely 10,000 of them.

Her heart tightened. Her hands slightly trembled and she held the saddle tightly. In the far distance, across the battlefield, stood the army of the Sandborns. There were many, far more in number than the Ivarion soldiers. Nyella could easily count over 18,000. They were already shouting and raising their weapons as if they had been victorious.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She could almost hear her mother’s voice again, the Queen’s soft voice, pleading with her not to go. "You are all we have left," her mother had whispered, nearly on her knees. "Don’t go, Nyella. Let someone else lead this."

But Nyella had made her choice. She had to come. She couldn’t sit back while her people were dying.

Memories flashed before her: her father teaching her how to hold a sword, her younger days running through the palace gardens, the moments she laughed, the times she would receive lessons, and so much more. It was as if she were reliving her whole life. Was this how it would end?

But then... something happened.

Far behind them, out of the forest, people started coming. At first, it was just a few, old farmers, young boys, blacksmiths... They came with anything they could carry: kitchen knives, sickles, bows with only a few arrows. Then others came... the deserted soldiers, private armies, and groups.

They kept coming.

One by one, and then in groups, they kept pouring out of the forest. Princess Nyella turned in shock. She couldn’t believe it. The people weren’t running from battle... they were running to it.

And they were coming because of her.

Because a woman had dared to ride to war when all hope was lost. She was the only child of the king. She was never supposed to fight. But she came. Contrary to what they thought that the people would be discouraged with a woman leading them, they were actually encouraged.

Princess Nyella couldn’t believe her eyes as the number kept increasing.

She turned her saddle and faced them. Her eyes were full of tears, her hands shook. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her heart was too full. So instead... she sang.

"Our home, our home... our beautiful home..."

Her voice cracked.

"Legends shall go, people shall go... but our home remains..."

And the soldiers joined her. Quietly at first, then louder. And then the villagers, too. They all sang.

"Men shall fall, names shall fall... but our home remains..."

From all across the battlefield, the voices echoed. A single song was binding them together in that moment.

Still, across the plain, the Sandborn army stood unshaken. Their confidence was still high because they knew King Tharyn was badly wounded. They had defeated many kingdoms before, what could one woman and a handful of rebels do?

And then it began.

The Sandborn horn blew. Their Horses roared, the soldiers shouted, and they charged forward.

But as usual... Ivarion was ready.

General Arvel raised his arm high and shouted, "Archers! To the front!"

A line of archers stepped forward

"Aim!"

They pulled their bows back in unison.

"Shoot!"

The arrows went straight into the air and rained from the sky toward the Sandborns. The first line of Sandborn soldiers fell.

"Aim! Again!"

"Shoot!"

More arrows flew. The Sandborns pressed on, trying all they could to avoid the arrows, and missing the traps. They had learned from the first battle.

Still, the archers didn’t stop. Pull, aim, release. Over and over. But the enemy was still pushing forward, and their numbers were greatly increasing and becoming too high for archers to handle.

General Lucius, commander of Ivarion’s defense, raised his arm and gave a command.

"Shields forward!"

Instantly, the frontline of Ivarion soldiers stepped ahead and locked their shields with loud metallic clanks. They created a wall of iron and covered their soldiers with it. The next wave of Sandborn warriors charged towards them, but they were met with unshakable defense of the Ivarion soldiers. They tried to pull through but the Ivarion line held strong. As they defended, they brought out their spears and stabbed the Sandborns with them. Once again, the Sandborn invaders kept falling.

The generals of Ivarion were not idle. They were chess masters and they had prepared efficiently for the battle. They gave signals, and with them, the soldiers would change formations, and they would keep dominating. For a while, everything was working. Their strategies had been going perfectly well and the Sandborns were falling back, step by step.

But then, everything changed.

The lines of Ivarion began to break. Their formations dissolved as the battle spread out into the open field, where no structure or order existed anymore.

That was where the Sandborns thrived. They had more advantage in the open field as they were more fierce.

The Sandborn warriors fought like wild beasts who were untrained, and unpredictable. They would create more space in the field and attack with more terrifying speed and aggression. They didn’t fight with style or honor. They fought with raw savagery. And it worked for them

The Ivarion soldiers began falling. In dozens. In hundreds.

Princess Nyella was in the heavy battle herself. Her sword was completely stained with blood, and her hair was totally messy, but who would care about that in such a situation? She could handle herself, she had trained for this, but what about the others? No matter how many she struck down, more kept coming. And each time she turned to look around, more of her people were falling.

She could feel the fear spreading. Some soldiers were hesitating. Others were stepping back. The courage they once had was fading away. She was very sad at that, but then.. something changed.

A sound came out into the battle arena, fierce and mean. Soldiers turned their heads and then they saw him.

King Tharyn.

He was supposed to be recovering. Everyone had believed he was too wounded to fight, he was stabbed in the right shoulder and was very weak. But there he was, he had mounted on his mighty black stallion with his golden armor.

His right arm hung limp as he couldn’t make use of it, but in his left hand, he held his sword tightly, and without waiting, he rode straight into the battlefield.

The sight was enough to freeze the moment. Everyone seemed to pause, as they all eyes fixed their eyes on him as he cut through the Sandborn lines, slashing and pulling down every enemy his sword met, even with one arm.

He had refused to lie on a sickbed and watch his kingdom fall.

And his soldiers saw that.

They saw that their king, who was badly wounded, was ours and was still fighting. That made something rise in them, a surge of strength and determination. A noise erupted from the Ivarion troops; they raised their swords and, without fear, pushed forward again.

And this time, they were winning.

The Sandborns started falling back. The Ivarion soldiers fought like their king. They fought bravely and determinedly.

But the Sandborns... they weren’t done.

They were never reckless. They were cunning.

Suddenly, a strange shift occurred. The Sandborns began pulling back, intentionally. They didn’t flee. They repositioned.

Within minutes, the entire Ivarion army found themselves surrounded from all sides.

The Sandborns had circled around during the chaos and now pressed them in, trapping them like animals in a cage.

The Ivarion soldiers tried to react, but it was too late. They had been held tight in the circle. The king, the princess, and the generals were all at the center of the trap.

And they were being slaughtered.

They resisted and tried to fight hard, but it was just too tight. The hope they had just found was now crumbling again. This time, it seemed final.

There was no escape.

Even Nyella was frozen in the midst of it all. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Tears filled her eyes from the unbearable thought that they would lose and might all die here. That their people, their kingdom, might fall today.

Then... something happened.

They heard a sound in the air, not just an ordinary sound but a roar. A loud, beastly roar from the skies.

Everyone looked up, but Nyella didn’t.

She had tears in her eyes, which turned to tears and fell down her cheeks as she smiled. She knew what it was.

"He came," she whispered.

"..."

"..."