Ancient Empire Calendar, Year 1832
After suffering a heavy defeat at the hands of Jamshid III Arfas, the Dynasty Lord of Arfas, Marco Kislavein was retreating towards the Western Lands.
One night, Marco and his commanders were holding a meeting about what to do.
"Yes, I'm open to any kind of idea, even the stupid ones."
Marco clapped his hands together and spread his arms wide.
"I'm waiting."
But the silence continued. Most people didn't know what to say.
"It seems everyone has lost their ability to think. Haa..."
The commanders' heads were bowed in shame.
Marco didn't like seeing his commanders like this. He thought he needed to give an enthusiastic speech to encourage everyone.
"Lift your heads! We can't win every battle; that only happens in nonsensical fantasy stories. Even our ancestor Harloumen VIII lost many battles, but each time he rose again, stronger. Rise, shake it off, and pull yourselves together. As long as the last Kislavein hasn't fallen, don't you dare say we've lost this war!"
The commanders jumped to their feet with enthusiasm.
"AS YOU COMMAND!"
Seeing his commanders' morale restored, Marco's spirits lifted.
"GREAT! EXCELLENT! Always be this enthusiastic! Always keep your morale high!"
That night, there was celebration. Even if all the past bad events weren't erased from memory, they were no longer cared about.
After the death of his father, Kervin Payrist, Arlek Payrist IV, declared the 29th Dynasty Lord of the Payrist Dynasty, sat next to Marco and asked a question.
"Commander-in-Chief, so what do we do now? Do we keep running?"
Marco replied.
"We have to. But we can't run forever. Once we reach a point where Jamshid III can't perform that damned spell again, we must harass them with night raids and guerrilla tactics until their resources are exhausted. Apart from that, there's nothing else we can do."
Arlek Payrist IV was deeply troubled by the gravity of their situation, but he was determined to fight to the end.
The retreat continued for a few more months. Finally, as Marco had hoped, they found a place with sparse sand where Jamshid III couldn't use his most powerful spell at its full potential.
Alfred Rodwel II, the Rodwel Dynasty Lord, was presenting a report to Marco.
"According to reports from the scout units, the Arfas army will arrive here at nightfall. They'll probably rest here. That's when we can begin the night raids and guerrilla attacks."
When Alfred Rodwel finished his report, Marco began to speak.
"Alright, the big day has come. It will be difficult, but we can't keep running. Begin preparations."
The Kislavein army began preparations for the major night raid.
That night, as Alfred Rodwel II had reported, the Arfas armies under Jamshid III's command set up camp at the predicted location.
Around three in the morning, the Kislavein armies had painted their armor black to remain unseen in the darkness.
"ATTACK!"
At Marco's command, the Kislavein armies raided the Arfas camp, putting to the sword anyone who stood in their way.
An Arfas soldier ran towards Jamshid's tent, knelt before it, and shouted.
"DYNASTY LORD! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! PLEASE HELP!"
Jamshid quickly donned his armor and rushed out of the tent.
"I wasn't expecting this. Because they kept running, I let my guard down too quickly."
Jamshid looked around. Wherever he looked, he saw raiders in pitch-black armor.
"They're everywhere. One wrong move and I could kill my own soldiers. I have to be careful."
Jamshid channeled his mana into his legs, cast a speed spell, and moved at lightning speed. He channeled his aura into his sword, cutting down anyone who crossed his path with a single stroke.
The battle lasted for hours. During the raid, half a million Arfas soldiers were killed. Kislavein losses were only one hundred thousand.
"This is enough. The winds of war have started blowing towards the Arfas. If we get greedy, it will be our downfall."
Marco channeled his mana into his vocal cords, amplified his voice, and shouted thunderously.
"RETREAT!"
As the Kislavein armies in black armor retreated, the exhausted and shocked Arfas soldiers did not pursue their fleeing enemy. Except for one person.
Jamshid III Arfas.
Like an enraged bull, he chased after the Kislavein army, slaughtering thousands of them.
"I no longer have to worry about killing my own soldiers! I WILL FIGHT WITH EVERYTHING I HAVE!"
Jamshid began fighting with all his might, slaughtering tens of thousands of Kislavein soldiers. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Marco reacted quickly and placed himself in Jamshid's path.
Without recognizing the person before him, Jamshid attacked. Marco deflected all incoming attacks.
Jamshid realized the person before him was no ordinary soldier. As they continued fighting, he aimed for Marco's head and shattered his helmet.
"You're Marco Kislavein, one of the Kislavein Commanders-in-Chief, aren't you?"
Marco spat on the ground and prepared to attack.
"Yes."
Marco attacked. The two Commanders-in-Chief clashed swords hundreds of times.
Marco spewed flames from his mouth. Jamshid countered the flames coming at his face with water spewed from his own mouth.
When fire and water clashed, a dense cloud formed. The two Commanders-in-Chief fought without being able to see where they were striking.
The battle continued, but no victor emerged. Both sides were exhausted.
Marco levitated himself with a wind spell and tried to escape, again using wind magic.
"He's running away! It's finally over!"
With the relief of impending victory, Jamshid collapsed face-down and fell asleep. Arfas soldiers surrounded him, forming a wall of shields.
Marco escaped and returned to his army.
Alfred Rodwel II ran to where Marco landed.
"Commander-in-Chief!"
Marco, exhausted, collapsed onto Alfred.
Alfred caught the falling Marco and laid him on the ground.
Victory belonged to the Kislavein army. In this night raid, half a million Arfas soldiers were killed, while one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers from the Kislavein army perished.
From this night onward, the Kislavein army under Marco's command inflicted heavy losses on the Arfas army through sporadic night raids and guerrilla attacks, continuing until...