In the war-torn lands of Orlais, where a civil war raged between the native factions and the invading Saxon-Fanoss Union, a young woman named Malty Melromarc found herself thrust into a battle for her homeland. The daughter of a once-powerful Count, Malty had witnessed her family's territory being ruthlessly annexed by the Saxon-Fanoss Union, leaving her with a burning desire for revenge.

Malty, filled with a fierce determination to reclaim what was rightfully hers, had aligned herself with the conservative factions that valiantly resisted the Saxon-Fanoss Union's rule. They sought to protect the traditions and independence of Orlais, standing against the invading forces colluding with the neighboring Principality of Fanoss. Together with these rebels, Malty hoped to free her people from the clutches of their oppressors.

Meanwhile, far from the lands of Orlais, in the distant kingdom of Castall, another young woman named Demia Harviala found herself caught in the turmoil. Demia was a noble daughter whose homeland was annexed by Hiro Hezri, the ruler of the Hezri Kingdom. Forced to serve her conquerors, she found herself working for him as reinforcement to Orlais. Hiro helped the traditional nobles to repel the advancing Saxon-Fanoss Union.

Demia and Malty now joined in a small army to help a Baron who was was being attacked by a batalion of Saxon-Fanoss Union.

"Lady Demia, I don't we could win." The red haired Malty who was on her horse called the blonde haired woman with body armour who was on a horse beside her.

Demia turned her gaze towards Malty, her blue eyes filled with determination. She wore a serious expression, reflecting the gravity of their situation.

"Malty, we cannot afford to doubt ourselves now," Demia replied firmly. "We may be facing a formidable enemy, but we have something they lack: the spirit to fight for what we believe in. We fight not just for ourselves, but for the freedom and independence of our people."

She adjusted her grip on her sword, her armored gauntlet glinting in the sunlight. "Remember, we are not alone. Our small army may be outnumbered, but we have the support of the Baron and his loyal soldiers. Together, we can turn the tide of this battle."

Demia urged her horse forward, moving closer to Malty. "We must stay united and fight with all our might. Our cause is just, and victory is within our reach if we remain steadfast. Have faith, Malty, and let our determination guide us to success."

She looked over at the approaching battalion of the Saxon-Fanoss Union, their banners fluttering ominously in the wind. Demia took a deep breath, steeling herself for the impending clash. "Prepare yourself, Malty. Today, we make a stand and show our enemies the strength of our resolve."

With a resolute nod, Malty tightened her grip on her own weapon. "You're right, Demia. We fight for Orlais and for the freedom that was taken from us. I will give everything I have in this battle, for my family, for my homeland, and for revenge."

The two women shared a brief, determined glance, before turning their attention back to the battlefield. The clash of steel and the cries of war filled the air as they led their small army into the fray, ready to face the overwhelming odds ahead. 

The Saxon-Fanoss Union's battalion proved to be a formidable force, their soldiers well-trained and equipped. Despite the valiant efforts of Demia, Malty, and their small army, they struggled to hold their ground against the overwhelming numbers and superior strength of their enemies.

The battle raged on, with both sides fighting fiercely. Demia and Malty displayed incredible bravery and skill, leading their troops with determination and inspiring them to fight on. They fought side by side, cutting through enemy lines and rallying their comrades, but the Saxon-Fanoss Union's forces seemed relentless.

As the battle wore on, it became clear that victory was slipping from their grasp. The Baron's soldiers, despite their loyalty, began to falter under the pressure of the enemy's relentless assault. 

Malty herself was being cornered by a man. 

Demia's heart raced as she saw Malty in danger. She swiftly maneuvered her horse, charging toward her comrade with a fierce determination. As she closed the distance, she swung her sword, deflecting the enemy's attack aimed at Malty. The clash of their blades echoed in the chaos of the battlefield.

"Malty, stay focused!" Demia shouted, her voice carrying over the sounds of battle. "We fight together, remember?"

Malty's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude as she parried another strike. She quickly regained her composure and nodded, a renewed fire burning in her eyes. The two women fought back to back, their swords moving in perfect harmony as they defended each other against their adversaries.

As the enemies continued their relentless assault, Demia and Malty realized that their current strategy was not enough to overcome the superior strength and numbers of the Saxon-Fanoss Union. Their small army was being pushed back, and the Baron's soldiers were becoming overwhelmed.

Demia quickly assessed the situation and made a split-second decision. She raised her voice, shouting over the din of battle, "Fall back! We need to regroup and reassess our approach!"

With a coordinated effort, Demia, Malty, and the remaining soldiers retreated to a defensible position, seeking cover behind a nearby hill. They caught their breath, their chests heaving from the exertion of the intense battle.

Malty looked at Demia, her eyes filled with determination mixed with frustration. "What do we do now, Demia? How can we turn this around?"

Demia took a moment to collect her thoughts, her gaze scanning the battlefield as she formulated a plan. "We need a strategic advantage," she replied. "The Saxon-Fanoss Union may have greater numbers, but we can still outmaneuver them."

She pointed to a nearby forest. "We'll use the terrain to our advantage. We'll split our forces into smaller groups and launch a series of hit-and-run attacks. We'll disrupt their formations, target their vulnerable spots, and create confusion in their ranks."

Malty nodded, understanding the plan. "So, we'll rely on our agility and knowledge of the land to outwit them?"

Demia smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Exactly. We'll strike when they least expect it, using guerrilla tactics. We may not be able to defeat them head-on, but we can weaken them, wear them down, and chip away at their morale."

She turned to the soldiers gathered around them. "We need each and every one of you to give it your all. This battle is far from over. We may be outnumbered, but we are not outmatched. We fight for our homes, our families, and our freedom. And with our determination, we can still emerge victorious!"

The soldiers, inspired by Demia's words, rallied behind her and Malty. They formed smaller squads, utilizing the forest for cover, and prepared for the next phase of the battle.

Under the leadership of Demia and Malty, the rebels launched a series of lightning-fast attacks, striking from the shadows and disappearing just as quickly. They targeted supply lines, disrupted communication, and targeted key enemy captains. Their hit-and-run tactics proved highly effective, causing confusion and chaos within the Saxon-Fanoss Union's ranks.

They darted through the chaos, their swords finding their marks with deadly precision. Their guerrilla tactics kept the enemy off balance, gradually whittling down their numbers and sowing seeds of doubt among their ranks.

However, they realized their numbers were also dwindling. 

"Arggh!!"

They heard a painful scream.

The Baron who they were helping was hit by an arrow and crushed to the ground.

Demia's heart sank as she witnessed the Baron's fall. She knew that their chances of victory had taken a severe blow. With their leader gone, the remaining soldiers were filled with despair. 

"We cannot win this. We must find a way to retreat." Demia, who was an experienced fighter told the inexperienced Malty.

Malty's eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and grief at the loss of the Baron. She looked around at the dwindling numbers of their forces, her heart heavy with the weight of the situation. However, she also understood the necessity of retreat in the face of overwhelming odds.

"You're right, Demia," Malty replied, her voice filled with sorrow. "We cannot let our sacrifices be in vain. Our priority now is to ensure the survival of our remaining soldiers. We must find a way to regroup and retreat."

She quickly scanned the battlefield, searching for an escape route. "There! The forest we used for our guerrilla tactics. It provides cover and can help us disengage from the enemy forces. We must rally our troops and make a strategic retreat through the forest."

Malty urged the soldiers to gather around, their expressions reflecting the exhaustion and despair that had settled upon them. "Listen, everyone," she called out, her voice filled with determination. "We have fought with all our might, and our efforts have not been in vain. Now, we must retreat and live to fight another day. Our cause is not lost, but we need to regroup and come back stronger."

She locked eyes with each soldier, conveying her resolve. "We will make our way through the forest, using its cover to our advantage. Stay together, watch each other's backs, and do not lose hope. We may be retreating today, but we will return with renewed strength. Our fight for Orlais is far from over."

With renewed determination, the remaining soldiers formed a defensive perimeter, protecting their fallen leader's body as they began their retreat. Demia and Malty took up positions at the rear, ensuring that no soldier was left behind.

As they made their way through the forest, the sounds of battle gradually faded into the distance. The soldiers moved with caution and haste, navigating the dense foliage and rugged terrain. 

Several hours later, as dusk settled over the land, the small group emerged from the forest, finding themselves at a safe distance from the pursuing enemy forces. They collapsed onto the ground, exhausted but alive.

Malty knelt beside Demia, their faces streaked with dirt and sweat. "We made it," she said, her voice a mixture of relief and determination. "We survived!"

Demia nodded, a weary smile on her face.