Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love -
Chapter 421: The Start of The South Eastern War
Chapter 421: The Start of The South Eastern War
The dawn was gentle, a pale golden light stretching across the fields, revealing a hazy, mist-covered world. The early morning mist hovered above the ground, turning the surroundings into an ethereal painting. Lyan stood silently at the front of his troops, watching the distant movements of the Varzadian forces. His eyes narrowed, his gaze focused and calculating, the edges of his lips turned downward in a slight frown. This was it—the moment he had been preparing for, the beginning of their stand against the invading Varzadians.
His elite soldiers, hardened fighters with years of experience, remained quiet and calm behind him, their expressions ranging from stoic determination to barely-contained anticipation. They were ready. This wasn’t just about a kingdom or territory. It was about defending their people, their families, their homes. The soldiers were armed and prepared, each one knowing their role in the fight to come.
Beside Lyan stood Wilhelmina, her armor gleaming in the faint light of dawn. She carried herself with the confidence of a seasoned warrior, her eyes sharp as she scanned the enemy lines. The Valkyries—Surena, Emilia, and Alice—took their positions with precision, their armor shining under the early morning sun. The way they moved, with practiced ease and perfect coordination, was proof of their readiness.
Lyan’s mind drifted back to the conversation he’d had with the rest of his companions before dawn. They had gathered in the large tent, the air thick with tension. Belle, Xena, Alina, and the others had all insisted on joining him on the battlefield, their eyes filled with determination. It had taken all of Lyan’s patience and authority to convince them otherwise. He had explained, in as calm a tone as he could muster, that their strength would be far more valuable supporting from behind—using their magic and tactics to aid the main forces.
"Please, understand," Lyan had said, his voice steady but with an undertone of urgency. "I can’t afford to have any of you at the front lines. Not today. We need every bit of support we can get, and that means you stay here."
Belle had crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "You think we can’t handle ourselves out there?"
Lyan had given her a small smile, shaking his head. "I know you can handle yourselves. That’s not the point. The point is that I need you alive, Belle. All of you. I need you where you can make the most difference."
There had been a long pause, and then Alina had nodded, her eyes softening. "We trust you, Lyan," she had said quietly. "Just... come back to us."
He had nodded, a weight lifting off his chest as they finally agreed. He knew they didn’t like it, but they trusted him, and that was enough. They were his family, and he’d protect them at all costs—even if it meant keeping them away from the fight.
Lyan turned his focus back to the present, his eyes scanning the horizon as the sun slowly climbed higher. The Varzadian forces were still, seemingly unaware of the trap laid before them. His gaze flickered to his men, the archers stationed on the ridges, their bows already nocked. The cavalry, hidden in the shadows of the trees, waited for their signal, their horses restless beneath them. Light infantry had taken their positions, scattered across the battlefield, ready to strike when the time was right.
Lyan stood still, his body relaxed, but his eyes were sharp. His heart beat steadily in his chest, the anticipation building with each passing second. He gave a casual glance to the ridge on his left—a signal to the archers to prepare. The soldiers, their eyes on Lyan, responded with subtle shifts, their grips tightening around their weapons.
He glanced toward the grove of trees where the cavalry was hidden. A single nod, barely perceptible, was enough to set them on high alert. The wind seemed to hold its breath, the entire battlefield suspended in a moment of silence. Lyan’s heart pounded, the weight of what was to come pressing down on him. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation radiating from his soldiers.
Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead. Lyan looked up to see a hawk—Abraham’s familiar—circling above. It was the signal they had been waiting for. The Varzadian scout vanguard had moved into position.
Lyan’s eyes sharpened, a fierce glint reflecting the morning light. He raised his hand, his fingers moving in a swift gesture. The archers drew their bows, the strings pulled taut. He mouthed the command, "Loose."
The sound of arrows being released filled the air, the projectiles arcing through the sky like a dark cloud. The Varzadian scouts, unaware of the imminent attack, were taken completely by surprise. The arrows rained down upon them, finding their marks with deadly accuracy. Cries of pain and confusion erupted from their ranks, chaos spreading as they scrambled to respond.
Lyan drew his glaive, the blade glinting in the early light. He gave another hand signal, and the infantry began their advance. The soldiers moved as one, their footsteps a steady rhythm against the earth. The light cavalry followed soon after, their horses breaking into a gallop as they moved to encircle the enemy, cutting off any chance of retreat.
The Varzadian scouts, about 500 strong, were caught completely off guard. Their commander shouted orders, trying to bring some semblance of control to the chaos, but it was too late. The Astellian forces moved with precision, their attacks coordinated and relentless.
Wilhelmina’s voice rang out, commanding the Valkyries into action. Surena, Emilia, and Alice moved like a well-oiled machine, their swords flashing as they cut through the enemy lines. They were swift and efficient, their movements almost a dance as they engaged the Varzadian scouts. Wilhelmina herself led the charge, her blade moving with lethal precision, her expression calm and focused.
Lyan led the vanguard, his glaive sweeping through enemies with ease. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, as he cut down the Varzadian scouts. He could see the fear in their eyes, the confusion as they tried to regroup, but Lyan gave them no chance. He anticipated their movements, adapting his strategy on the fly, directing his men to where they were needed most.
The skirmish was intense but short-lived. The Varzadian scouts were overwhelmed, their numbers dwindling rapidly under the coordinated assault. Lyan’s soldiers pushed forward, their morale high as they saw the enemy faltering. It wasn’t long before the last of the scouts fell, their commander desperately trying to rally his men before being cut down by Wilhelmina’s blade.
Lyan raised his hand, signaling his forces to pull back. He knew better than to overextend—they had achieved their objective, and now it was time to regroup. His men obeyed without question, falling back in an organized retreat, their eyes still scanning the battlefield for any remaining threats.
As they regrouped, Lyan took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the horizon. Something felt off. The Varzadian scouts had been too close, their movements too confident. He turned to Abraham, who appeared at his side, his expression grim.
"They’re closer than we thought," Abraham said, his voice low. "The main Varzadian force is only a few miles from here. They’re moving faster than we anticipated."
Lyan frowned, his mind racing. This wasn’t just a scouting party—the main force was already at their doorstep. They had planned for a decisive battle at the southeastern border, but it seemed the Varzadians had other plans. They were already too close, and if they didn’t act fast, the entire front line could be compromised.
"We need to move," Lyan said, his voice filled with urgency. He turned to his men, his gaze sharp. "Tactical retreat. We’re heading back to the main camp."
He found Wilhelmina, her eyes meeting his with a questioning look. "What’s going on?"
"The main force is closer than we thought," Lyan explained. "We need to fall back and regroup."
Wilhelmina nodded, her expression hardening. "Understood. Let’s move."
Lyan turned to his companions, who had joined him on the battlefield. They looked at him, their eyes filled with concern. "We’re falling back to the main camp," he said. "I need you all to stay with me, but as support. No direct engagement. Understood?"
There was a moment of silence, and then they all nodded. Lyan could see the reluctance in their eyes, but they trusted him, and that was enough.
The retreat was swift and organized, the soldiers moving with purpose as they made their way back to the main Astellian camp. The atmosphere was tense as they arrived, the soldiers on high alert, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the enemy. Lyan’s group was welcomed back, their presence a relief to those who had been waiting for news.
Lyan led his companions towards the command tent, where Prince Erich, Commander Arnold, and Julius were already gathered. The tension in the tent was palpable, the air thick with the weight of the situation. Erich stood over the map, his expression set in concentration, while Arnold and Julius discussed their next course of action.
Lyan stepped forward, his voice breaking the silence. "The Varzadian main force is closer than we thought. They’re already a few miles from the border."
Erich looked up, his eyes narrowing. "How many?"
"Too many," Lyan replied. "We took out their scouts, but the main force is moving fast. We need to adjust our strategy."
Arnold nodded, his expression grim. "We have more soldiers, but something feels off. Their speed, their confidence—it suggests they have something up their sleeve."
Julius leaned over the map, his finger tracing the lines of the border. "We can’t risk an open engagement if they have hidden forces. We need to be cautious."
Lyan crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. "I agree. There’s something we’re not seeing. They wouldn’t move this fast unless they had an advantage we don’t know about."
Erich nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. "We need to be prepared for anything. We split our forces—one group fortifies the border, the other prepares for a potential ambush."
Lyan looked at Erich, his gaze steady. "I’ll lead the defensive maneuver. If there’s anything out there, we’ll find it."
Erich met Lyan’s eyes, a look of understanding passing between them. "Alright," he said, his voice calm but filled with determination. He turned to the others, his expression resolute.
"I’ve got a gist of what we should do. Everyone, hear me..."
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