This morning was on the fresher side, as it had rained the day before. But now the sun wasn't rising much, even though it was of course daylight. The dense clouds pressed down from the sky and the moisture hung in the air in the form of thick wafts of mist. Theodor glanced ahead at the Limesian Mountains towering in front of him. They were in the south of Cislimesia and the army was ready to march again. It had spent the night in the open and was now marching off to cross the mountains into Translimesia, which belonged to Camenia. Now the field marshal could have simply chosen the main pass, over which most of the traffic to and from Ordania passes, as the point of passage. But that would have been too obvious for him. He chose a much smaller, less important pass, the Gano Saddle. He gave the order to march off and the huge lindworm set off again.

  They now slowly climbed the narrow pass roads over damp terrain. The fog was now so thick that they could hardly see a hand in front of their eyes. However, their local guides knew exactly where they had to go. Before they approached the pass, the order was issued for all troops to be as quiet as possible. The field marshal also placed his best troops at the very front to make a strong breakthrough against the enemy troops, who he assumed were stationed here, using the element of surprise. As they finally approached their destination, everything was almost eerily quiet and only the sound of everyone's footsteps could be heard. They were now marching almost blindly through the thick fog. Then they finally came across their first enemies. When they eventually caught sight of them, they were taken completely by surprise and took a moment to compose themselves, fumbling around clumsily with the intention of blowing their horns as a warning. They were too slow and the Ordanian archers took them out before they could do so. Then a storming of the pass would be ordered with the utmost haste. The heavily laden troops trudged up the winding paths, struggling to keep up with the foremost brigade.

  The men advanced on the Camenians' positions and quite literally mowed them down when they, as it seemed to the defenders, appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't a long battle until almost all the enemies here were defeated. The passage to Camenia was clear! Now Theodor waited for the rest of the army to catch up with them. Then came another typical order from him: "We have no time to lose. Before the army in the south can be warned and prepare, we have to strike. All men should run down into the valley as quickly as possible so that we can catch them off guard!" Thus, began the tribulation of the Holy Ordanian Army, which now began its extremely rapid descent from the Gano Saddle. There would be no breaks.

  The fog only became noticeably less thick far below the tree line. The approach of the Ordanians would not be visible from afar. That was very much in their favour. Every metre they made downhill, it became warmer and warmer. Finally, they arrived in the Arminio Valley. After a short rest, it was time to set off again. The further they followed the densely wooded valley, the wider and flatter it became. Eventually it opened up into a treeless pasture landscape, and a large Camenian camp could be seen in the distance. As they moved towards it unchecked, the defenders finally raised the alarm. The Black Bear then ordered an assault on the enemy forces. They rushed around nervously, as they were not used to such hasty action from an enemy army. To be precise, they were not used to enemy armies at all, as the vast majority of them were just mobilised peasants who had no combat experience and the regular troops of Camenia had not fought a real war for a long time. The most experienced fighters in this country were from the Boskettian Company, which, badly battered by the defeat on the Archfeld, had to regroup and would not and could not take part in any armed conflicts for the time being.

  As if possessed by the devil, the soldiers of the Holy Ordanian Army charged into the still partly disorganised ranks of their enemies. Unchecked, they rode at full speed with raised lances into the ranks of the Camenians, which broke as a result and disintegrated into a huge chaos. The remaining troops soon followed and made short work of their amateurish opponents. Many of the poor foot soldiers fell, but a large number also simply stole away. As the dust settled, Theodor, who had once again been at the forefront, flipped up his visor. "Another coup de main! Ha! One more to go. And this one will be my masterpiece!" They plundered the enemy's camp and spent the night close to it. Then, as the next morning dawned, the time had come. The last great battle of the revolution would be fought in the very north of Camenia.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  The Royal Forces of Camenia had not expected such a reaction from the Holy Empire. Completely caught off guard, they now hastily sent all the forces they had gathered near the border together to stop the invading revolutionary army. However, they were still scattered in several places and first had to meet up and organise themselves. The Field Marshal of Ordania would not allow them to do this! He led a lightning campaign to overwhelm them and quickly throw them out of the race. The forces led by the Martyrs’ Brigades marched ahead across the fertile soils of hot Camenia. Around them, the vegetation seemed to visibly change as they advanced across the land. Then a large army quickly confronted them. Led by the king's first-born son, they confronted the strongest army in the land. The others were still on their way. It was a hot day and the south wind made the men's throats literally dry out. The site of the battle would be on the shore of a lake, ironically called Silent Lake. The Camenians lined up in their regular battle formation, while the Holy Ordanian Army transferred the bulk of their cavalry to their right flank to press the enemy from that direction and push against the lake shore, which was to their left.

  The war horns sounded and the cavalry rode off. Arrows flew everywhere. Apparently, the Camenians even had three lines of pikemen in front to prevent a successful cavalry charge. This was of little use to them, as the Martyrs' war-hardened horsemen now attacked with maximum vigour on the right flank. Quite a number of them fell, but the enemy horsemen were decisively defeated and had to retreat after being massively decimated. This left the Ordanian troops free to push into the exposed flank, which they did. Just as Theodor had planned, the pressure pushed the entire enemy army against and finally into the lake. They were pushed further and further, as the ranks of the Ordanians did not give an inch. Countless men drowned in the waters of the "No-Longer-Quite-So-Silent Lake". A few troops managed to break out and flee, but in the end, it was yet another great victory for the Holy Ordanian Empire.

  At the end of the day, many thousands and thousands of fallen men lay on the field. Among them was the king's son, whose body was laid out by order of the field marshal and returned to the enemy troops. Upon receiving news of what had happened, the other contingents of Camenian forces ceased approaching them. A few days later, a message from the royal court of Camenia was received. They asked for a truce and called for negotiations. In other words, they capitulated. The revolution had finally won! The Battle of Silent Lake would be the last major armed conflict of the 'Holy Revolution'.

  A young man with red hair was standing in front of a grave. It was quiet all around and only a very gentle, warm wind was blowing. The lad laid down a single white lily and wordlessly lit a candle. Then he said a short prayer. There was a single other person at the graveyard who looked over with interest, but then turned away again out of decency. The reason why the young man attracted attention was not his clothing, which was relatively ordinary, but the fact that three men in strange red and white uniforms were waiting outside the cemetery, who had apparently accompanied him here. On the gravestone was written:

  Albrecht Silber

  24.5.427 - 3.10.461

  "We were what you are. You will become what we are."

  Wenzel had wanted to visit his teacher's grave for a while. It was his fault that he was no longer among the living. If he hadn’t visited the man in his home back then, he might not have been associated with him. The mage could no longer reverse this, but he felt it was his duty at least not to forget him. Besides, a large funeral procession would soon be held for Elisabeth and all those who had fallen in the revolution, especially as news had recently come of the victory over Camenia.

  Wenzel hated it all. He was full of grief, that so many had died for him. He understood that most had given their lives to end the tyranny in the country, but a number had died directly because of him or for him personally. Aurel, Albrecht, Isidor, Bertold and Hildegard, they had all left us too soon. Wenzel stood there without a word and replayed in his head the events that had transpired. After a few minutes, he finally left the grave. He had come to Olemar especially for this. Deliberately, he had chosen his clothes to be inconspicuous so as not to attract any onlookers. The cemetery was relatively empty at the moment anyway, at least of living people. On the way back to Meglarsbruck, which fortunately wasn't that far away, he had all sorts of things on his mind. He would also make a grave for Bertold and Hildegard. However, their mortal remains could not be found, so alas, it would only be a xenotaph. He also weighed the option of visiting the graves of his biological parents, which were in Greifenburg. But then he decided against it. He had nothing to do with people who had "discarded" him. He would now become the ruler of Ordania, not because of his lineage, but because he was the Chosen One.