A horrible symphony surrounded Mattiew.

Even now, he knew the sounds of this day would haunt all who lived through it.

Arrow volleys from the enemy line. The sickening sound of metal ripping through flesh. The warrior on his right dying in gurgling agony as the one on his left swung his weapon wildly with desperation, unable to find a single enemy to fight among masses of them.

It all came together like music. Music conducted by the betrayer Gods themselves. A rhythm of death. The melody of war.

The Trial of Conviction was something completely different.

Where the previous trials had been a test of character or prowess or intellect, the Trial of Conviction was a test of human endurance.

Mattiew didn’t know what to think of it.

Every child heard of the terrible and indiscriminately violent act called war and often compared it to a duel, but with more people. Mattiew didn’t know just how many more people.

The Trial of Conviction was a single field battle taking place on the outskirts of Veyshtar. Cyrus, Semiramis, Maera, and Mattiew had all brought their armies to the eastern stretch of fields and coastline. A thousand soldiers give or take a couple hundred, all killing each other. And stories about the Empires claimed they fielded armies of tens of thousands against the Gods.

All Mattiew could do was fight and breathe.

Sometimes, he would face five soldiers on his own. Other times, he would jump one enemy with five allies.

He couldn’t even keep count of his losses. Because he had to fight.

While sorcerers paired off to do one-on-one combat in the four-way battle, the commoners weren’t keen on ignoring the chance to pile on an enemy.

In the deep recesses of his subconscious, Mattiew writhed in a mixture of agonizing remorse and crippling fear, a deep-seated desperation to escape the horrors of the Wild Age, last felt by the humans who killed the gods.

But the only way to escape it was to keep killing.

The battle stained his hands up to his elbows in blood and innards. His legs kept moving, despite the loss of feeling in them long ago. His thoughts came like a roiling sea, a drop in an ocean of other impulses swirling around in his head, unable to be isolated and processed.

That was, until someone picked him up by the back of his chest plate and threw him onto the back of an armored horse as it raced through the battlefield.

“What in Irkalla are you doing here, Nikoliades?” Kalai roared above the chaos from behind him. She carved through five or six enemy men at the same time with one swing of her cleaver swords. “You’re the commanding officer! Call your troops back!”

Kalai. She and Alo’aharu had reportedly been running late. He hadn’t consulted with her.

“What?” Mattiew asked.

“This isn’t a strategy, it’s a mob! Order a retreat right fucking now!” Kalai insisted. “Unless you want everyone to wind up dead!”

Kalai steered her horse to the back of the Sea Scourger line, where a woman with a horn stood by, paralyzed by the slaughter before her.

“Order a retreat!” Kalai shouted.

The woman snapped out of her shock and nodded before blowing the horn twice. The sound from this close nearly shattered Mattiew’s ears.

The organizers had given each remaining contestant a small encampment to serve as home base, where Kalai started riding toward.

As the Sea Scourgers pulled out of the battle, the other three armies filled their gap and continued to fight amongst themselves.

Given some time to breathe, Mattiew felt like passing out, but Kalai forced him to wake up by throwing him off her horse.

He staggered to his feet as she dismounted and headed into one of the few tents set up around the encampment. Mattiew followed her in.

“Mattiew,” Kalai muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Why in Irkalla is this tent empty?”

“...Because we’re all fighting?”

Kalai shook her head. “You all know nothing of war. This is a strategist’s tent, Mattiew. You’re supposed to put your brightest minds in here to develop a plan.”

“Well, I’m sorry that none of us have ever experienced war before.” Mattiew said. “Could you walk us through it?”

“It’s fine. Just...Who are the most intelligent people among your ranks? Gather them and your leaders here.” Kalai said.

Mattiew left the tent just as the Scourgers had started returning to the encampment.

“Dakkar, Dreya!” Mattiew called to his two secondary leaders. “Grab the smartest of us and get in the tent!”

It wasn’t long before the Sea Scourgers had a competent team of strategists at the helm of their army. This included Aram, who, despite being a bit of a brute, had a mind for these things. Sedis and Ladona also joined him, creating a team of three.

Mattiew felt like a fool. He always was careful and strategic with his fights. What had changed here?

Not one of the three warriors they’d gathered to be strategists was unharmed.

Kalai was the one leading the meeting. “First thing we need to establish, what is the condition for victory?”

“We just have to defeat the other contestants.” Mattiew said.

“And what does our army look like? Split into infantry, bowmen, and cavalry. And mounted archers if you have any.”

“Two hundred infantry.” Dakkar reported. “Eighty-six bowmen. No cavalry except you, Lady Kalai. Though we have horses. Two horse archers.”

“Alright. So given that, maybe slamming our infantry into their infantry isn’t the best use of the only significant force we have.” Kalai said with a tinge of bitterness.

Aram slapped Sedis in the chest. “Told ya.”

“Shut up, lout.” Sedis fired back.

“The organizers said we have to defeat the other contestants. That doesn’t include their armies, does it?” Aram asked.

“Exactly.” Kalai said.

“But the other contestants are never isolated.” Ladona said.

Kalai grabbed a roll of papyrus from the corner of the tent and a box of small stone figurines. She rolled out the papyrus and held it down with stone weights before making an impromptu map of the battlefield with a stick of charcoal.

“Rule number one of battle strategy. Your goal is to deceive your opponent and create an opening. Knowledge is as good as a week of supplies on the battlefield.” Kalai said. “Good thing we know what it is all our enemies are after.”

All present in the room looked at Mattiew.

He sighed. “What, you want me to hide in here?”

“That would be a smart option.” Dakkar pursed his lips. “Sorry Matty.”

“Smart, but expected.” Ladona pointed out. “If we leave Mattiew here, yes, the position is more defensible, but we may not have to spare enough troops to man the encampment. If we bring Matty along with us, we can not only have our entire army protecting him, but we can leave decoys here to draw the enemy back to our encampment. Deception, right?”

Kalai nodded. “Of our three opponents, who’s most likely to seclude themselves?”

“Cyrus.” Aram growled. “I could tell he was a coward the moment he opened his mouth. Not to mention he’s the second prince. Asshole has it coming if we target him.”

“But if we all go after the same encampment, the others will to notice. They might team up and come after us.” Sedis said. “We need a diversion.”

The tent nodded in agreement, though no one had a solution that wouldn’t result in massive casualties.

At least until Kalai pressed her finger to the far east of the map where the shoreline of the central Zagras river which ran through Veyshtar and drained into the Origin Sea. “You lot are sailors, aren’t you? Scourge of the Sea?”

“We don’t have any boats.” Aram muttered.

“There’s a dock to the north just around the bend, isn’t there?” Kalai asked. 

Dreya approximated its location with a mark of the charcoal.

Dreya scoffed. “Cyrus’s encampment is right on the sea. Not only can we stay out of the other armies’ range, but we can drop our assassins off right at the prince’s doorstep.”

“But that doesn’t really make for much of a distraction.” Sedis said.

“You were quite the rider in your heyday, right, Lady Kalai?” Ladona asked.

Kalai nodded.

“Could you lead a small band of shock cavalry around the field to keep their focus from leaving the other armies? Disrupt their lines, harass their flanks, that sort of thing.” Ladona said.

“I can do you one better. Get your twenty best riders together. Once I have that, I will keep the attention of all three of your opponents.” Kalai grinned.

Mattiew’s advisors gave Kalai a strange look.

“She may be loud, but I’ve never known Kalai to overestimate herself.” Mattiew said.

Aram sighed. “Alright. It’s in your hands, King Cleaver.”

“So that’s the plan?” Mattiew asked. “Kalai and her shock cavalry distract the enemy until we get to the docks here and sail our way back to launch an amphibious invasion of Cyrus’s encampment. We just need to know who will do what.”

“Mattiew comes on the boats, obviously.” Aram said.

“I’ll go with Kalai.” Dakkar said.

“What?” Mattiew asked. “You’re a full-blooded sailor, Dak.”

“The men putting their necks out for us on the field will need a leader they can trust. Not that you’re untrustworthy, Lady Kalai.” Dakkar half bowed towards the King Cleaver.

“I understand.” Kalai nodded. 

Mattiew sighed. “Let’s not leave Semiramis to have all the fun.”

***

The Queen of Conquerors’ raging battle cry could be heard all across the battlefield as she raised her cleaver swords high.

She was aware of the strain she was putting on her steed with her riding and massive twin blades. But warhorses weren’t exactly in significant supply any longer and these steppe horses, hardy as they were, would have to relearn what war is like. Much like these soldiers.

Fifty of Mattiew’s vagabonds, including Dakkar, rode behind her, pikes in hand.

Cyrus’s army was giving way to a clash between Maera and Semiramis.

She’d corral them first. After which, she would provide a distraction fit for all three armies.

“Follow my lead!” Kalai roared.

The cavalry gave a wide berth to the clashing blob of infantry as they circled around Cyrus’s flank. They didn’t go unnoticed and several men in the outer flank started forming a shield wall. But Kalai and her riders circled around to the back.

“Couch your lances, men! Stand in your saddles and lean!” Kalai shouted as she kicked her horse into a gallop, picking up speed.

She took her own advice and stood in the stirrups of her saddle, leaning forward. She positioned her sword, which was about as long as a spear anyway, at her side and made eye contact with the soldier that would first receive their charge.

Kalai let go of her reins and readied her other sword.

The soldiers’ inexperience showed when their resolve in their shield wall faltered. Despite having all the pikes they could hope for, they lacked faith in their formation.

Kalai spared her horse the agony of crashing into a shield wall when she swung her blades upwards.

The rest of the riders crashed into the line, sending at least three lines of spearmen toppling under the force. The rest of the footmen paying attention to them backed away, trying to retreat. Either their morale would shatter or they would drive their frontline further into the central battle. Whatever the case, their job was done.

“Fall back! We’re circling around for another!” Kalai shouted before turning her horse around and galloping away.

“Lady Kalai! Part of the Sun Killer’s flank is dispersing! Heading north! I think they’re sorcerers!” Dakkar reported.

Kalai looked over at Semiramis’s flank as their shock unit regrouped. Indeed, around a fifty or sixty soldiers dressed differently from their common footmen were parting from the primary force.

“They’re in range!”

“In range for what?” Dakkar asked.

“I am considered the weakest Champion. But that doesn’t mean I am without power.” Kalai said. “I will show these sorcerers what it means to witness a king!”

Kalai let loose an eldritch Tsengol war song from the deep recesses of her throat and the top of her mouth at the same time.

Crimson and black wisps of energy picked up with the wind as a storm of sorcery engulfed the battlefield.

Blackness consumed all three armies before the sun’s light broke through.

But beneath them was no longer a rolling plain.

Kalai opened her eyes and breathed in the glorious winds of the Gershut desert.

Sand dunes spread out for miles upon miles to seemingly no end.

But it was all an imagining. A construct of sorcery.

Her armies, back in the Wild Age, rode across this plain to conquer Qarkhan, the God of Law. And here again, they would ride to conquer the Trial of Conviction.

The armies of Mattiew’s opponents had stopped fighting, acclimating to their new surroundings.

The unison drum beat in the earth created by thousands upon thousands of marching feet rumbled beneath her.

“What...what is this?” Dakkar asked, only one voice amongst hundreds echoing the same sentiment.

“This is where humankind saw victory over the God of Tyranny!” Kalai shouted. “A place that all who know of humanity’s struggle will never forget. My sorcery binds the will of our hearts and makes real a world from an age of myth! Behold the Queen of Conqueror’s endless hordes!”

A sea of soldiers swarmed around the Scourgers, presenting a force twice as big as all three armies combined. Her Tsengol horse archers repeated Kalai’s song with a chorus of blood-thirsty voices. Her footmen carried the black banner of her empire and slammed their spears against the ground or beat on their shields. Each of her soldiers wore ferocious expressions matched by their armor. They were a flight of demons from Irkalla to these sorcerers.

“Each one, raised from the grave by the courage in their souls! What we accomplished together is what gave me my title, King Cleaver!” Kalai roared over the thousands of battle cries. “Bear witness, ye who follow false monarchs! This is the might of a true king!”

Kalai mounted her old steed, Baila, as the sandy mare approached her.

“Horde of the Tsengol! Let us ride to victory!” Kalai snapped the reins on Baila, spurring her into a gallop.

Kalai’s hordes roared as they followed her.

Her hordes kicked up a sandstorm in their wake as she charged at every army at once.

The armies faltered for a moment before allowing fear to replace their confusion.

When Kalai crashed into them, the enemy quickly gave way.

Blood sprayed as Kalai began a slaughter with her two blades from atop her mount. She sheathed one of them before carving her way through the dissipating ranks and coming around for another charge.

Their morale shattered.

Her soldiers outnumbered the three armies two to one. And each of her soldiers was worth three untrained men. So it was more like six to one.

Every enemy, whether commoner or sorcerer, had no way of resisting the Tsengol hordes.

“Star Killers!” a voice echoed out across the field. “Fear not these mud-born dogs atop horses! They are but insects before our power!”

Kalai looked up and...something happened in her chest. She’d known this sensation before, but it was so rare to the Queen of Conquerors that she never bothered remembering a name for it. A big, black hole opened for her heart to fall into. The sky of her construct gave way for a brilliant column of light, revealing the jet and scarlet wisps of her magic.

A woman with silver hair and emerald eyes slowly descended from the sky as though she’d been flying.

“The Sunkiller…” murmurs spread through both enemy and allied ranks.

“This is child’s play, King Cleaver.” Semiramis scoffed as a small glowing sphere flickered to life in her palm. “Perish.”

Then the world went white.