Time passed, and the day marked by Esitoriel's enemies arrived. By this point, hushed tension had spread across all 54 provinces of the kingdom, and how could it not?
Trade had shut down, and travel halted. The inflow of outsiders had diminished to nigh-nothing, as a dark shadow loomed over the hearts of everyone and everything.
The day of battle arrived, and to the dismay of many, the skies gave their rain. As if to mourn the loss Eistoriel was about to experience, for indeed it would suffer a great casualty.
In order to preserve as many regions as possible, the "Warlords" allocated knights to each province in order of priority while also ensuring to maintain a certain quality in every region.
Their opponents had the advantage of numbers, but they had the home advantage.
Measures that took into account the locational advantages of each region had already been prepared.
Such that in only two weeks, offensives that had never-before been crafted found expression in the land. A reality only born thanks to the minds of Eistoriel's greatest craftsmen.
Yet, despite this incredible feat, the shadow of certain death still loomed over that nation.
But what choice did they have?
On that day, the grounds trembled in one accord, with every region experiencing the same grim phenomenon.
Their enemies had arrived in their glory, causing the ground to literally quake. Just their marching had caused this!
Frightening, to say the least.
Still, the arrival of the union was met with an equally prepared Eistorian army.
Nevertheless, the sight beheld in every region caused the shoulders of many to drop in acknowledgement of looming defeat.
Eistoriel's armies felt horror seep into their hearts, and for good reason.
An army of five million soldiers marched into Eistoriel's regions—all divided across the regions in order of importance. The enemy had come prepared, with ground, aerial, and marine forces trooping into Eistoriel's domain.
In comparison, Eistoriel at its best could only boast somewhere between six hundred thousand and a million knights. That difference was vast enough to damage the morale of over two hundred thousand knights.
Notwithstanding, as though in response to the intimidating presence of their enemies, Silver and Golden Knights in every province stepped forward to unveil their might, acting as a guiding light to their lost comrades.
As if miniature stars arose in every region, the golden knights ascended into the sky, allowing their magical radiance to fall on the weaker troops, while the silver knights raised their glowing weapons to the sky, each one unleashing a beam of light in its own colors.
A weight unlike any those troops had ever felt descended on the regions at that display. Their efforts painted the sky with vivid shades! The golden and silver knights weren't holding back. Their figures exuded immeasurable strength!
With the swiftness of a whirlwind and the strength of thunder, confidence returned into the hearts of many knights at that sight. None of them saw those god-like men dying in battle! It didn't matter how brutal it would get.
That belief alone caused their hearts to thrum in readiness for battle. It was that generation's first war.
All around the provinces, chants of war roared forth from the gathering of knights, generating an electrifying wave of excitement. The weaker knights saw this as an opportunity to see their lords in action.
The union studied those events carefully, and in response to Eistoriel's display, groups that seemed equal in might to the golden and silver knights stepped forward too, painting the side of their armies with their own light.
This was an expected outcome, so when the golden knights showed unwavering confidence, the weaker troops could only steel their own resolve even further. They would rather die fighting for their nation than fleeing.
Similar sceneries played out in every corner of Eistoriel… except the central city itself: Lorshdel.
Surprisingly, it happened to be the only location where not even a single knight could be found!
This shocking detail had been insisted on by the King, who ordered every knight, including his Warlords, to involve themselves in the war… assuring them that the central city could not be overtaken.
No one argued that truth with him, only that they worried its inhabitants could fall into a panic. Many were of noble background of different rankings, and most were far too valuable to the kingdom to lose.
Unfortunately, he disregarded their worries. None of it mattered as far as he was concerned.
However, just as they had deduced, those who resided in Lorshdel fell into hysteria when they watched every single knight march out of the city, leaving it unmanned! Not even its gates!
Their panic peaked when news reached the city that enemy troops approached by flight! And they numbered at least two thousand.
Two-thousand was a small number, but that was understandable due to the difficulties that existed in getting there.
Besides, no one could believe they had managed to bypass the various borders unnoticed, not until they got that far into the kingdom.
Still, a small number of attackers meant those troops were some of the best the Union could produce. They had come to take the seat of power after all.
Panic threatened to rip Lorshdel apart. Small fights occurred amongst the nobles as some considered fleeing, while the others begged them to stay; that city was their home after all.
Needless to say, the diverging desires caused disagreements heated enough that they were prepared to kill each other!
However, everyone, including the approaching enemy, had to halt their actions when a massive white veil originating from the mountain unfolded to encase the entire city in its light.
!!!?
Shock of untold measures filled the minds of those wealthy citizens, but even greater awe appeared in their hearts when the regions outside the veil quaked violently before giving birth to hundreds of strange emerald pillars that began to crackle with violent power.
Voicing horrendous roars that were inaudible from within the veil, searing beams tore through kilometers to reach their targets—instantly halving the approaching forces!
This event played out in mere seconds: faster than both sides could react. Those offensives had been overwhelmingly violent and quick.
However, all that the Eistorians could experience from within the veil was the intense green lights those beams radiated each time they shot forward.
Calm quickly overpowered the initial panic, as everyone looked up to the mountain from where that help had come.
For the first time in their whole lives, the possibility of a real king arose in the hearts of many, and a capable one at that?!
Still, many attributed that impressive feat to the workings of a 'Warlord' within the castle. But which warlord possessed that type of magic?
Maybe a group?
But all known 'Warlords' were spread across the provinces, engaging the enemies. The only other option was the mysterious King.
With the enemy force nearly exterminated with such ease, a sense of security washed over Lorshdel. They were actually safe!
However, the same could not be said for the other regions. Brutal clashes erupted in every other location, as both sides engaged in combat.
Swords clashed, and spells flew everywhere; explosions of different scales unfolded frequently, reaping lives and injuring the battlefields forever.
Fortunately for Eistoriel, its enemies had decided not to directly overwhelm them but instead sent their soldiers in coordinated waves.
That approach greatly disturbed the warlords, who wondered if it was a sense of honor their enemies sought. Or were their actions born out of a playful underestimation of their target?
After all, Eistoriel could be destroyed at any time. There was no need to rush.
The Warlords concluded that the latter was the scenario, since there was already no honor in a ten-to-one battle.
The ten nations played with the Eistorians by giving them a false sense of "hope." Since winning smaller battles meant nothing when a majority of their forces still sat in their camps, ready to unleash their full might when ordered.
Time passed, and the results obtained by the union confirmed that they had the upper hand: for by the start of the fifth day, Eistoriel had lost about thirty-nine percent of its forces across all ranks!