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The Strategic Retreat

  Massimiliano Silvestro

  “How could this happen?” Massimiliano thought as he studied the battle map spread out on the table. His clenched hands shook with frustration. “My strategy was perfect. Attack the healers… destroy the morale of the border army… weaken them and take the territory. But something unexpected happened. Some variable I hadn’t calculated caused everything to fall apart.”

  The general took a deep breath, but the weight of failure seemed to press against his chest like a suit of armor that was too heavy. The plan that had been so perfected had been crushed, not by the enemy's strength, but by something he could not identify. Some invisible element had turned the tide, and the enemy army had not only resisted but had retaken its territory with even greater vigor.

  "That variable... I'm going to figure it out. I'm going to rip that piece off the board with my own hands when I find it."

  Massimiliano sat comfortably in his chair, his expression as hard as steel. With firm steps, he left his tent, leaving behind the map that was no longer relevant. The decision was made: retreat. Withdraw his troops to reorganize forces and attack with even greater intensity in the future.

  Taking the heavy war horn in hand, Massimiliano took a deep breath. The low, thunderous sound echoed across the field, carried by the wind to the ears of every soldier. The message was clear: retreat.

  As the army prepared to retreat, Massimiliano stared at the horizon. "I haven't lost this battle. This is just a temporary move. When I return, there will be no room for mistakes."

  The general's eyes gleamed with determination. In that instant, he did not taste the bitterness of defeat. Only the relentless flame of revenge and future strategy. The next attack would be devastating, and he would ensure that no detail was left untouched.

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  Nunzio

  The sound of the horn echoed across the battlefield like distant thunder, and Nunzio's keen eyes caught the movement of the enemy troops retreating. For an instant, everything seemed to slow down, as if the world wanted him to savor the moment. He clenched the hilt of his warhammer tightly, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon that had accompanied him through so many battles.

  A wide, sincere smile formed on his face, a rare sight amidst the chaos of war. "Finally... good news!" he muttered to himself. His eyes, still filled with adrenaline, swept the field, watching the enemy soldiers retreating in haste, like shadows being consumed by the dawn's light.

  Emotion exploded inside him like a dam breaking. Raising his hammer above his head, Nunzio let out a scream that seemed to reverberate through the very ground. It was a roar of triumph, of survival, and most of all, of collapse.

  "We have won!" he shouted, his voice piercing the air and reaching the warriors around him. His fellow soldiers, exhausted but alive, responded with cheers and applause. Men and women who had been fighting for their lives moments before were now united in the euphoria of victory.

  Nunzio advanced across the battlefield, his steps firm and sure, while the group of warriors around him did the same. They approached the line from which, moments ago, the enemy had pressed with brutal force. Now, that same line was empty, marked only by bodies, abandoned weapons, and the dust raised by the hasty retreat.

  He stopped, staring at the horizon where the enemy disappeared. "Retreat while you can, you bastards..." he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion and pride. But deep in his eyes, there was something more. He knew this was not the end. It was just a pause. The war continued, but for now, victory was theirs.

  "Come on, all of you!" Nunzio rallied to the soldiers around him. "Regroup! We have to make sure this territory remains ours. Today, we show them what they're made of. Today, we survive. And tomorrow, we fight again!"

  The warriors organized themselves, responding to Nunzio's command with renewed determination. The battlefield, still stained with blood and scarred by conflict, now seemed a place of hope.

  As night fell, Nunzio examined his hammer once more, looking up at the starry sky. Survival, victory, and the unwavering desire to protect what was his pulsed in his heart. Tomorrow might bring more challenges, but tonight they would celebrate the victory won with sweat, blood, and courage.

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