Trumpets sounded the arrival of Alisson to Ahvaratsu, the capital of the Kitsune Queendom. He had left the 7th temporarily at the border of the Queendom, and had brought only a small guard force to expedite travel into the Queendom. Marching an army into an allied nation wasn’t exactly politically kosher.

  Upon confirming his identity, the garrison outside of Ahvaratsu sent word to the palace that he had arrived. It was odd that they didn’t invite him in immediately, so Alisson was made to wait outside the walls like a stranger.

  Out sallied a procession headed by Tsuhara, who, by her garb, seemed to have been promoted in light of the reforms spiraling around the nation.

  “Alisson! Good to see you!”

  Alisson exchanged pleasantries, but got to business quickly.

  “I have come as I said I would. The 7th marches to end the Irine Principality, and we require your aid as your Queen promised.”

  “Well, what do you need?” Tsuhara tilted her head blankly, as if it wasn’t obvious what an army needed.

  “Supplies and manpower. That is, food and other necessities to wage war with; as well as any units you would be willing to give to my command.”

  Tsuhara’s eyes widened like she hadn’t ever even considered Alisson’s requests.

  “Uhh…I’ll have to ask the Queen and the cabinet!” Tsuhara stammered.

  “Of course. Please do so with haste. Irine’s best army may come at any moment, and I do not intend to linger for more than a day.”

  It was only then that Alisson and his guards were invited into the city, where they were led to the royal palace. It was there where Alisson endured more politics and discussion.

  Put bluntly, the reforming nation was ill-prepared to equip Alisson with his requests. They buttered up their response with condolences and excuses, but Alisson didn’t listen. He was sure some of them were good reasons, and some may have even been true.

  All he had heard after a day of discussion, was that he would receive a small amount of food, and a group of lancers. The Kitsune were not modern in their military organization; they did not have units that could be tasked and stationed, prepared and trained for specific purposes. That was to say, he could wave goodbye his dreams of having tens of thousands of kitsune regulars to bolster the 7th with.

  An elite cavalry unit was useful, sure, but it wasn’t what he was looking for. He made this clear to the cabinet, but they did little to fulfil his demands. They offered more support if Alisson were willing to stay in the capital, and further discuss a deal as well as a postwar situation.

  The war was far from won. Alisson clenched his fist.

  It seemed the little coup that he had orchestrated here had done little other than replace an inefficient, but functioning, bureaucracy, with a cabal of loyal idiots. He wasn’t sure if their response was outright malicious, or if it was truly the result of incompetence; but Alisson supposed that the latter was a politician’s signature card in concealing their intentions.

  Regardless, Alisson departed the Queendom, with wagons of supplies and roughly two-thousand cavalry men at his back, and a burgeoning contempt in his chest. He had told the cabinet that if this was all the support they could spare, then to not even say publicly that they were supporting him, rather, to denounce his brutality and adopt neutrality. It would conceal the cavalrymen he had gotten at the very least, and make Alisson’s supply situation appear worse if he was turned down. Whether or not the Queendom did so, was as good as a coin toss.

  The 7th prepared to march north, toward the land of the Angels.

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  …

  Nariseer’s legs dangled from atop their horse, looking out over a hill.

  “That is indeed many smokestacks…”

  Scouts had reported that there was a massive army nearby, so much larger in fact that there was no way that it was Alisson’s army. They had deduced this by studying the amount of campfires they had spotted in the night sky.

  Far off in the forest, against the black night, thousands of streams of smoke rose, a warm glow illuminating the horizon. It appeared like a huge scouting detachment for a massive army.

  Appeared. Nariseer pouted. This was one of the oldest tricks in the book. A small army lights a bunch of campfires to scare off a bigger army. This had to be the case. Alisson didn’t magically materialize new men into existence to do battle with; if he really could do that, he would’ve done that in their last confrontation.

  “Excellency?”

  Nariseer needed more time to think, and didn’t reply, heading back to the command tent, and pondering the situation whilst staring at a map. If Alisson wanted more men…Then there was only one place he could really get it. The east. Two nations there were at the very least amiable to his cause.

  “I didn’t think he had it in him!”

  Nariseer exclaimed. Alisson had really given the 87th the slip. He had evidently tried to throw Nariseer off his trail. Nariseer turned to her subcommanders.

  “The fifth through eighth divisions will continue pursuit of the army in front of us. The rest of you are coming with me. We’re going to hunt down the real prey!”

  Deception and fleeing was all that this portion of the 7th could do. Nariseer doubted it could defeat her amazing soldiers in open combat. Half would continue to chase them. No doubt Alisson had ordered his detached force to split up in several directions to further confuse the 87th, appear larger, and avoid confrontation.

  The ensuing chaos of hundreds of tiny Irinian units chasing hundreds of tiny Sidonian units in all directions wasn’t exactly something Nariseer wanted to micromanage. Plus, it really didn’t require his expertise. The officers of the 87th would be able to handle it. He needed to chase down Alisson firstly. Without Alisson, the 7th could be easily defeated.

  “I hope we can take him prisoner!”

  “That can be arranged, your excellency.”

  One of Nariseer’s personal men, the captain of the Iquatine Guard, responded.

  They were a unit of subhumans that Nariseer had collected from all over Irine. If Alisson ever tried to assassinate her, as he and his 51st have been known to do, Nariseer doubted the Iquatines would falter.

  …

  They needed to hurry. The HACA was a day away, but currently, the 7th was in open Irinian territory. He prayed Augen’s distraction force had been potent enough to throw Nariseer off Alisson’s trail for but another couple days. He hadn’t seen any trace of the Angels, odd, because he had learned of how extensive their monitoring network was – They should’ve been able to see him coming from weeks away.

  The 7th marched across an open, hilly field to the northeast. The long grass swayed gently and verdantly as the sun beamed down on it.

  It was here that the 7th would fight for its existence.

  Rear-screening scouts came scrambling to Alisson’s side, and they told him his worst fear at that moment. The 87th was directly behind them. Indeed, as he looked out behind him, over the hills and through the tree, came the brightly adorned Irinian regulars.

  It seems Alisson’s ruse was up. And in such an exposed position, no less. Nariseer had undoubtly waited for the 7th to enter this open terrain. There were no large features here to strategically defend.

  Alisson had a number of decisions to make in that instant. If he took too long to choose a course of action, the 7th would simply be overrun.

  First option. Accelerate the march. Leave everything behind. Try to reach the HACA and hope they support him.

  Second option. Dig in. Stand his ground, and try to beat the 87th.

  Any other choices were simply derivations of these two. Fight or flight. Or both. Alisson considered leaving his army here while he traveled to the HACA by himself, and requested they bail out the 7th with an overwhelming strike. A good idea, but he shouldn’t be the one to leave.

  If they ran, Alisson feared the 87th would pick off the 7th bit by bit, running would essentially concede the fight and let everything weigh on the Angels. Alisson didn’t like the sound of that.

  His officers looked to him anxiously for guidance. He turned his stallion, and stared down the massing army.

  “Turn us around. We’re digging in.”

  His officers complied, not arguing due to their immediate fear of the enemy. He sent a few groups of couriers ahead to the HACA. With any luck, an airstrike would bail him out of this. If not, this was it.

  The 7th had roughly eighteen-thousand men. The 87th was said to have somewhere on the scale of a hundred-thousand at full strength. Assuming Nariseer had brought the entire army, and completely ignored Augen, this was an unwinnable fight. Regardless, his comrades prepared themselves.

  ***