The Devouring Knight

The two armies surged forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The air filled with the sharp hiss of arrows raining down from both sides.

"Shields!" Lumberling's voice cut through the chaos. Rows of soldiers raised their shields, the sky darkening as volleys clattered against steel and wood. Men grunted, some falling, but the line held.

Then came the crash.

Infantry slammed into infantry, shield to shield, sword to spear, the ground trembling beneath their struggle. Sparks flew as blades scraped, blood already staining the dirt.

Cavalry roared from both sides. The Legate's armored knights charged on warhorses like thunderbolts, meeting the snarling force of the boar cavalry led by Skarn and Takkar. The impact was brutal, metal and tusks colliding, beasts and men thrown aside as riders struck at each other with spears and axes.

Everywhere, the field broke into countless duels. Knights sought out Knights, Quasi-Knights clashing in flurries of steel, Knight Apprentices testing their strength against each other. It was as if an unspoken rule had taken hold: each warrior must prove himself against his equal.

Lireath's soldiers strained under the weight of the Legate's veterans, their formation bending but not yet breaking. Her voice rose above the battle, urging them on, steadying their lines.

On the other side, the soldiers of House Arden fought with grim precision, their discipline drilled into them by years of training. Backed by Lumberling's own troops, the wolves snapping at flanks, hunters striking from the shadows, the lizardmen breaking through weak points, the line held strong.

Despite the Legate's overwhelming force, the field did not crumble. Steel clashed, arrows whistled, beasts roared. Against all odds, the combined strength of Lireath's, Lucian's, and Lumberling's forces forced the battle into balance.

…..

On the Boar Cavalry's side, Skarn reined in his mount, his gaze sharpening. The massive boar beneath him snorted, tusks scraping against the dirt as if it too sensed the coming storm.

Takkar pulled up beside him. "Why did you stop?"

Skarn's eyes narrowed. His voice came out heavy. "Takkar, stay away from here and lead our men. There's someone strong coming."

Takkar hesitated, his grip tightening on his weapon. But the weight in Skarn's tone left no room for argument.

From the enemy's line, a Knight in full black armor rode forward. His warhorse was a beast of steel and muscle, covered in heavy plate. Each step of its hooves made the ground shudder.

"Commander Gregory!" The Sengolio soldiers parted, voices filled with awe and fear as they cleared a path for him.

The commander's helm turned, his gaze locking onto Skarn. For a long heartbeat, neither moved, their auras pressing against each other like colliding storms. Soldiers and cavalry instinctively pulled back, creating a circle of empty ground between them.

"Get away, Takkar," Skarn spoke again, louder this time.

Takkar clenched his jaw, conflicted, but gave a sharp nod. "Don't die." With that, he pulled the cavalry back, leaving the field to Skarn and the black-armored commander.

The silence lasted only a breath. Then both mounts surged forward.

The boar thundered ahead, tusks gleaming. The warhorse charged, armored plates rattling with each earth-shaking stride. Skarn raised his twin axes, their blades flashing. Gregory hefted his massive one-handed axe, its edge gleaming like a guillotine.

When they met, the crash was deafening.

Steel clanged against steel, the force of the clash throwing sparks in every direction. The ground trembled beneath the impact as both mounts reared, screaming in fury.

Skarn swung again, his left axe sweeping low toward Gregory's side. The commander twisted his arm, catching the strike with the haft of his weapon, then countered with a brutal overhead chop. Skarn crossed both axes, blocking it, but the sheer weight sent him sliding back atop his boar.

"Not bad… for a beast rider," Gregory's muffled voice growled from behind his helm.

Skarn bared his teeth, his blood boiling. "You'll find out I'm more than that."

The two charged again, axes flashing in arcs of silver. Each strike was answered with another, neither giving an inch. The boar snapped at the warhorse, tusks scraping against plated armor, while the horse kicked and shoved back with raw power.

Around them, soldiers could only watch. The battle between Commander Gregory and Skarn was like two storms colliding.

And yet, through the dust and sparks, one thing became clear. They were evenly matched.

…..

On another battlefield, Aren led the elite squad, his spear gleaming as he cut through enemy soldiers with precision. His men pushed forward with him, their formation holding strong.

Then, a spear came whistling through the air. Aren caught it in time, thrusting his own forward. The clash burst apart with a sharp explosion of force.

From the Sengolio side, a black knight rode out on a massive warhorse clad in steel. He carried a long spear, his presence pressing down on the field like a heavy weight. A faint smile touched his lips. "Interesting. A monster blocked my spear?"

Aren's grip tightened on his weapon. He knew instantly, this wasn't an opponent his men could handle.

"Gobo2!" Aren barked, his voice steady despite the tension. "Take command of the squad and hold the line."

The goblin nodded fiercely, his eyes full of trust. "Leave it to me!"

Without another word, Aren spurred his feet off the ground. His body shot forward, his spear flashing as he leapt high, aiming straight for the black-armored commander. The man answered with his own spear, the two weapons clashing midair with a thunderous crack.

The shockwave of their strike rippled outward, sending dirt flying and soldiers stumbling back. Sparks danced as both spears locked, neither side giving way.

The commander's voice rumbled low from behind his helm. "Another upstart with a stick… I'll crush you here."

Aren's eyes burned with determination. "Try it then." He twisted his body, forcing the lock apart, and the duel began. Each thrust and sweep carried killing intent, their movements blurring as they traded blow for blow, man and spear moving as one.

…..

On another field, Krivex too found his challenger. He had been commanding his archers with precision when a sudden pressure cut through the chaos.

From the Sengolio line, an enemy commander stepped forward, an archer like him, bow already drawn. Unlike the brute force of other commanders, this one radiated sharpness.