Though Varre technically fought at the very front lines, he didn’t have to get bloody his own sword. That was too dangerous. He was surrounded by eighty men from his elite honor guard who did the real fighting. He was close by, but there were a few heavily armed warriors between him and the enemy at all times.

  Just in case anything unexpected happened, the guards surrounded their king from all directions. If an enemy knight decided to gamble. Desperately charging forward in an attempt to slay the enemy leader, he’d need to get through some of the fiercest soldiers in all of Logres first. Varre himself, was no longer some complete rookie either.

  Fighting was exhausting. The Royal Guard may have impressive power, but they mostly made do without their enhanced state, conserving energy for dueling enemy nobles. They relied on their human strength, along with master crafted equipment and weapons, as much as possible. They sliced the enemy footmen with swords and polearms, while seated on the backs of their mounts, but it was tiring.

  Every few minutes the guards at the front of the formation would rotate. Only ten or so fought at a time, while the others rested and focused on keeping their liege safe. In emergencies, such as when an enemy noble attempted to strike against this formation, a few more would move up to intercept.

  The common soldiery had almost no hope of besting these heavily armored warriors. Most used spears, which couldn’t pierce through the heavy plate armors. They’d need to look for weak points like armpits, and joints and the warriors guarded these spots well. Their best bet was to aim for the horses, but even they were armored.

  Slowly, minute after minute, the guards cut down the infantry in front of them. But as they did so, Varre’s side was bleeding troops as well.

  “How does it look?” the king asked, yelling over the sounds of battle.

  “Good!” Jan replied, leaning towards his liege, “do you see that? Charles’ banner? We have to make our way over there!”

  Varre had to move around to get a better look at it. He had a vantage point, seated on top of his mount, far above the heads of the footmen, but he was surrounded by other riders.

  Fortunately the flag was easy to spot. After all, that was its whole purpose. It looked similar to his own since the duke also belonged to the royal family. He couldn’t recognize individuals at this range, but he could see that it was surrounded by dozens of knights, just like his own position. Presumably, the pretender was somewhere alongside them.

  “Are we going to kill Charles?” the king grabbed the count’s shoulder as he yelled into his ear.

  “Don’t need to! It’s enough to take the banner!” Jan explained.

  “Won’t they just run?”

  Jan smiled. “No! They want ours just as much! We’re both heading straight for each other!”

  Though the Royal Guards gave the loyalists an advantage, they weren’t an unbeatable force. If Charles managed to somehow punch through the first line of defenses and shove them back, he could fight his way towards the flag. If he captured it, the loyalists morale would falter.

  Losing the symbol would be an obvious sign that something with the king’s entourage went very, very wrong. It either showed that the monarch was slain, or at in the best case, had been surrounded and was now retreating. And if that happened, then the entire army was probably losing.

  Varre didn’t appreciate taking this risk, but he had to admit that Jan was a far more experienced commander. Especially when it came to all out brawls such as this one. The former earthling managed to come up with a couple clever strategies to outwit his opponents before, but this fight required a wholly different set of skills. One that he unfortunately lacked.

  If the count said that was the best path forward, the king was willing to try it. Especially if it could end the battle early and save plenty of lives.

  As the two formations fought their way through the infantry, slowly drawing towards each other, Varre tried to get a better look at the battlefield. From what he could tell, it didn’t look like there were that many bodies on the ground. Most men retreated after receiving the first injury. Or if a sufficient blow against their shield scared them enough to back out. Troops also constantly cycled in and out, recovering in the backlines of each formation. If even his elite warriors got tired after a while, the peasants got absolutely exhausted.

  Outside of the main clash, small teams of knights roamed the fields. Some dueled each other, but others arranged into groups and performed small charges on the outskirts of enemy formations. It was messy and disorganized, but at this range it was impossible to send any direct orders to those men. It seemed strange, but if Jan saw no issues with this, then Varre couldn’t complain either.

  Slowly, as the two banners got closer to each other, more and more knights were choosing to congregate on this location. They knew that taking the enemy’s symbol could be the decisive blow to end the battle and everyone wanted to be a part of it. It was the best way to bring glory to one’s house.

  Baron Gregory’s flank seemed to be doing fine, but at this range, the king couldn’t notice any details. The commanders’ flags appeared to be even closer to each other, but besides that the situation looked about the same as the center.

  The right flank though was still open. The infantry marched through an empty field, already past Varre’s own formation. The enemy knights kept sallying out of their hedgehog, threatening to charge the footmen and harass them, but each time they were blocked by Khoman’s cavalry. If the infantry kept firm and trusted their horsemen, they would be able to swing around and hit Charles from behind eventually.

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  For now, Varre simply had to wait and watch as men slaughtered each other, getting closer and closer towards the enemy’s entourage.

  It felt like hours, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. The Royal Guard made short work of any opposition and it seemed that the enemy was eager to let them through. None of the peasants wanted to throw their lives away, so after blocking a couple blows with their shields, they tended to step back. They let Varre’s men push them away and cleared a path forward.

  The loyalists were doing the same. All of the infantry understood they stood no chance, so they put up a token resistance, hoping for a few lucky hits if possible while retreating. Only knights were able to slow down any advance, but they weren’t going to throw their lives away either. Most pulled back as soon as they saw the honor guard approaching, choosing to stick closer to their own side’s banner and ready for the decisive battle.

  Then it happened. The enemy got close enough that Varre recognized Charles peeking out behind his own knights.

  Jan noticed it too.

  He raised his sword in the air and yelled out, “There he is! Get him!”

  The heralds were ready to deliver the message and sounded a new alarm. At the sound of trumpets all of the Royal Guards and knights that joined this group enhanced themselves and raced towards the enemy. And Charles’ side did the same.

  All of the infantry still standing in these last few dozen feet between the formations turned to flee. If anyone got caught up in this titanic conflict between nobles, they were as good as dead. They ran as fast as they could, avoiding massive horses and their deadly hooves.

  There wasn’t enough room to build up speed for a proper charge, but the meeting would still be devastating. Especially since Varre had a secret move up his sleeve.

  Right before the enemy knights reached his side, Elvira, who was hiding in the center of the entourage, unleashed a powerful spell.

  A massive explosion erupted at the very center of the enemy group and killed about a dozen horses on the spot. The men fell off their saddles, blocking the path for their allies and many of the remaining animals panicked. Just as it had happened during Clement’s final charge.

  The other mages followed suit. They didn’t have the aura to waste on dispersed spells like this one, but they focused on hitting single targets, either horses or people, and thinned out the enemy’s ranks even further.

  Charles did not expect this. He knew that Varre had achieved some impressive victories, but in both, magic was simply an afterthought. Even as rumors of the battles reached his ears, most gossipers didn’t mention it. They were more impressed by the thousands of men fighting, than the explosions filling the air somewhere off to the side, and left such details out of their stories. Perhaps, if he had spoken to actual witnesses, the duke could have learned of this threat. He only heard secondary accounts.

  Wizards were rare and everyone knew that they tended to stay away from internal conflicts. Even if the duke found out that Elvira was part of Varre’s forces, he could have simply assumed she was there to advise him, or offer some supportive spells and healing services. Not fought on the battlefield directly.

  Without proper preparations, the rebels were decimated. Their line collapsed into chaos and it couldn’t resist the approaching wave of Royal Guards. They smashed their way through, killing all opposition. Only those who immediately surrendered were spared. The path to the banner was now open.

  The surprise attack worked, but it could only do so much. They had to follow through quickly. The rebels were reorganizing and preparing a countercharge to stop this advance and save their flag.

  Elvira couldn’t repeat such a powerful explosion again, at least not quickly enough to hold off a counterattack. Such spells required time to charge and wasted a lot of aura in the process. Instead, she focused on smaller scale spells, disabling individual knights and sewing further confusion into their ranks, slowing them down.

  It was working. Using their momentum, the honor guard threw off any remaining resistance and fought their way towards the banner. And Duke Charles.

  Varre saw him, looking at his opponent over the shoulders of his companions. The pretender looked furious, but he knew that staying here meant death. He turned around and fled deeper into his formation.

  The banner couldn’t easily follow. Not only was it heavy and bulky, but seeing it run would have been even worse than seeing it fall. A fleeing flag carrier was a surefire sign of a rout. A total defeat. Losing it damaged everyone’s morale, but it still left a chance for victory.

  Varre clenched his teeth as he watched the men in front of him slay the last remaining rebels defending their banner. Then they reached it. The leading Royal Guard clobbered the flag carrier over the head with a war hammer and the man fell off his horse, dead on the spot. A few other loyalists kept going, pushing the enemy further back and giving the victor some space.

  A single rider remained. He caught the enemy’s banner as it was falling and turned his horse around. He lowered the flag, showing everyone what had just happened, and started retreating back to his king.

  But the battle wasn’t over just yet. No matter how much Elvira and the other mages managed to distract the enemy, seeing their banner fall threw everyone into a fit of rage. They had lost this critical skirmish, and they couldn’t stand it.

  With a resounding cheer, they threw themselves into a fierce combat. Just as before, they didn’t have enough space for a proper charge, but they still picked up enough speed to pierce through the guards lining the side of the royal entourage. And they kept fighting their way through.

  “Your majesty,” Hakon grabbed him by the shoulder, “we should pull back for now.”

  Varre looked around. The enemy was approaching from both sides, hoping to cut their way through the entourage and cut off the flag carrier before he made it to the safety. And that meant they were converging on the monarch’s position at this very moment.

  The king looked towards Jan, but he simply nodded. It had to be done, at least for now. Just as the rebels managed to pull off a counter attack, so could the loyalists. Varre turned his horse around and slowly moved back towards safety, while the count barked out new orders, preparing for a countercharge of his own.

  In the meantime, the enemy managed to cut off a portion of the Royal Guard who stood at the very front of this attack. A dozen warriors were now surrounded and desperately fending off attacks from all sides.

  Then, Charles came back.

  The duke hadn’t given up just yet. Though he fled at the first sign of danger, Varre had done the same. The pretender used this time to quickly regroup, gathered up a large selection of nearby knights and now hit hard against this enclave of loyalists holding the captured flag.

  The casualties were heavy on both sides. Jan managed to prepare some reinforcements and countercharge again, but they couldn’t make it in time. Charles’ entourage slaughtered every one of the surrounded guards and recovered their lost banner. The rebels triumphantly raised it in the air and cheered. With renewed morale they pushed back hard against the loyalists.

  Now it was Varre who was losing ground. His plan ended up working against him. His success was only temporary and it only managed to rouse up the enemy to fight harder. The tide of battle had turned.

  We often hear stories about how a battle was lost when one side lost their flags.