With Lehlia's entry into the conflict, Perturabo's war to unify Kislev evolved into the largest military engagement in the land's history.
The two sides of this war were the Lord of Iron, representing the rising new powers, and the Kingdom of Lehlia, the symbol of the old order. The fate of all Kislev rested on this clash. Regardless of who emerged victorious, it would be a winner-take-all outcome; no force remaining in Kislev would be able to oppose the victor.
Almost all Kislevite princes chose to trade their independence and freedom to follow the King of Lehlia. Terrified by Perturabo's sudden rise, they preferred to kneel before the Lehlian monarch—the very power that had defeated their ancestors—rather than submit to the Lord of Iron.
Yet, not every prince sided with Lehlia. Some harbored hatred for Lehlia so deep that they chose Perturabo over their ancestral enemy. If Perturabo could lead them to vengeance against the Lehlians, they would acknowledge the Lord of Iron as their new master.
One such example was the Veche republic of Novgorod. After deliberations by the Veche assembly, Grand Duke Nevsky, who represented the republic's rule, chose to swear fealty to Perturabo. The merchants and citizens of the assembly feared that Perturabo might sack their city in a fit of rage, but they feared a future under Lehlian noble rule even more.
After a complex process of choosing sides, Kislev was divided: the territories and princes loyal to Perturabo stood against the Kingdom of Lehlia and its vassals. War was imminent.
Faced with such a formidable opponent, Perturabo remained calm. He deployed his Streltsi and the armies of his vassal princes with his usual cold precision, preparing for the engagement.
Fortuitously, Perturabo's iron-fisted reputation made him famous among the "Kossar" tribes wandering the borders between Lehlia and Kislev. To these nomads, who were largely descended from escaped Lehlian serfs, the rising Lord of Iron appeared to be a leader who could guide them in a vendetta against the Lehlian nobles who had once enslaved them.
Furthermore, Perturabo's mysterious and renowned origins led many devout and superstitious Kossars to believe that this king—taller and wiser than any mortal—must be a messenger sent by the heavens to lead them on a grand crusade for redemption.
As Perturabo led his legions toward his chosen battlefield, many Kossar tribes arrived to join him, eager to serve as vanguards in his army.
Thanks to this, Perturabo conducted a massive expansion of his forces at almost no cost. While his numbers had previously been severely lacking compared to the combined host of Lehlia and the Kislevite princes, the gap was now significantly narrowed.
More importantly, under Perturabo's immense computational capacity and Father Mikhail's diligent leadership of logistics, every Streltsi unit was well-supplied. Each soldier practiced daily, and their equipment was brand new, ready for immediate deployment.
Even without the addition of the Kossar tribes, Perturabo possessed total confidence in his ability to crush the allied forces of Lehlia and the princes. He intended to use the prestige of this victory to complete his dream of a unified Kislev.
On the other side of the field, the King of Lehlia shared a similar confidence in his ability to win, though that was where the similarities ended.
Unlike the modern army Perturabo had created, the Lehlian military adhered to a feudal system identical to that of their neighbors. Most soldiers were peasants and citizens levied from the countryside and towns, farming in the spring and summer and fighting in the autumn and winter. The only true standing force consisted of the armored knights of the nobility and their squires.
Wadisvav was not a man closed off to progress. As Perturabo campaigned with his new professional army, the King had heard reports from merchants and spies.
Desiring to strengthen his own power, the King had attempted to form a new model army—one that received pay directly from him and could focus entirely on training and military affairs. Unfortunately, unlike Perturabo, who relied on arms exports, the King of Lehlia lacked sufficient liquid capital.
Raising taxes was an impossibility before the Royal Council, which was composed of Lehlian nobles and urban citizens. Increasing taxes to build a new army was a sensitive issue for the council members.
To the nobles, a tax-funded royal army was a tool for their own suppression and could never be allowed to pass. To the citizens, higher taxes were a personal threat to their livelihoods; taking another penny from their pockets was unacceptable.
Consequently, as the war against Perturabo began, Wadisvav's professional army numbered only a few thousand men—a force that already threatened to bankrupt the King's private treasury.
King Wadisvav kept these few thousand professional soldiers under his direct command as an expanded personal guard. Because they wore black armor, the people called them the "Black Army."
The stage was set for the conflict against Perturabo's well-trained Streltsi: King Wadisvav's "Black Army," the private levies of the Lehlian nobility, and the armies of the various Kislevite vassal princes.
From a purely numerical standpoint, the Lehlians far outnumbered Perturabo's forces, and the advantage appeared to be on their side.
However, the outcome of a war is not determined by numbers alone. Occasionally, a smaller, more cohesive force can defeat a larger, fragmented army. Throughout history, in battles where the few defeated the many, the larger force usually suffered from greater internal flaws.
The great battle to decide the fate of all Kislev was about to begin. The actors of the drama held their breath, ready to play their parts.