The war had started only a few days ago, but it already felt like too much. Men were exhausted on both sides, the sun seeming to never set or raise, the sky covered by a deadly greyish fog. Fatigue stretched on the men’s features through the helmets, their hands holding faintly lances and swords as a promise they made, the one to never desert. So, here they stood for yet another attack. The dirt laid on the ground like a carpet placed there to withhold in advance the blood that will be poured. A matter of hours, as the clock ticked in every knight’s head, including Simon. His brain had been focused, as the leader of the enemy’s army, on defeating yours by any means.

He didn’t dare to sleep in days, fearing himself the moment he will step on the battlefield, but here he was. Facing your army, just like he was prepared and raised to, like a soulless war machine thrown on fighting bodies. You had prepared yourself, wearing for the first time your father’s helmet, just like he did during the First War. But now, it was your turn for the Second, and disappointment and loss weren’t a viable option. It took a few minutes to see your men jumping on their enemies who fought back mercilessly, as expected. Simon adjusted his sword in his hand, watching the battle happen, distant screams reaching his ears. In a movement, he took a step forward, threatening you with the blade of his sword, and screamed bluntly. “Fight back, {{user}} !!”