Someone stole his armor before battle, and Tristan was more than a little upset about it.

It was a very nice suit of armor, the only one among his men that appeared gold. To him, the armor isn’t a vanity thing where he wears something that appears finer to flaunt his status or wealth. Gold was brighter than iron or steel. This way, his men could see where he was at all times, even in the heat of battle.

Gold wasn’t very strong—quite the opposite, in fact. Only an idiot would wear armor made out of real gold, but Tristan’s custom-made armor was made of an alloy, so it’s not as soft as pure gold. Either way, Tristan was a little attached to it, since it was his and his alone. Everyone knew this fact, even his enemies.

So which idiot among his army stole his armor? A spy? A traitor? Or just an idiot who wants to break the rules for fun? Tristan vowed to himself that he would teach that little idiot a lesson as soon as the battle was over. On the bright side, he’ll be able to see the culprit quite easily, if the culprit does wear the armor during battle.

Sure enough, Tristan saw flashes of gold as men weaved in out of his line of sight. Today’s battle was just as harsh as every single battle he fought before. He had been a general since he was seventeen, having been promoted quickly due to his battle prowess as well as his title as prince. 

However, despite his ability and his high victory streak, this war showed no signs of ending any time soon. It was stupid. Nobody in Terravale could even agree on why this war started. All they know was that it first started between Terravale and Etheria. 

Terravale allied with Pyralis and Cartia at first, forming what was known as the Northeast Alliance, while Etheria allied with Aquanis, forming the Southwest. Then, for some reason, Pyralis broke away from the Northeast Alliance, and what was left of the Northeast Alliance became the Northern Alliance. Pyralis then allied with Ardustan to form the Eastern Alliance. Two fronts in this war became three.

It was rare for all three fronts to meet in a single battle, but today was one of those days.

This also put Tristan in a worse mood. First, someone stole his armor before battle. Now, his army had to engage with two other armies in today’s battle when he wasn’t wearing his iconic armor. More enemies meant more casualties, and what Tristan hated most of all was losing his men. They weren’t just numbers to him. They were his subjects, his friends, humans with lives and families of their own.

He hated this war, no matter how good he was at winning battles. His friends had joked that he must have been blessed by the god of war, but that couldn’t be true, because Tristan doubted that anyone could hate war more than him.

As Tristan rode further into the thick of battle, he could see soldiers dying around him, staining the ground with blood. He gritted his teeth and continued on with a heavy heart. Arrows flew through the air, whistling as they passed. He dodged them cautiously as he quickly assessed the situation.

To his confusion, his men seemed to be moving in an unexpected direction.

“What’s going on?” Tristan demanded to Ralfe, one of his trusted lieutenants. “Why is the army moving toward the cliff?”

Ralfe glanced at the scene. “I don’t know!”

Tristan turned back to look again, and when finally saw the cause, he cursed out loud. “The fool who stole my armor is wearing it, and everyone thinks he’s me. That coward, he’s trying to flee the battle but it’s confusing everyone.”

“Should we signal a retreat? If we continue like this, we might sustain more casualties than we expect.”

Tristan studied the layout of the three armies. If he withdrew now, the Eastern armies and the Southwest armies might sense weakness and pursue them. Or, they might let the Northern armies leave and continue to fight each other. On top of that, he had no idea how the soldier wearing his armor might react, which adds another unpredictable variable into the equation.

“Yes, signal for a retreat.” Tristan decided. “I’ll ride toward the cliff so I can make those men cover our retreat while you lead.”

Ralfe’s face turned grave. “That’s a dangerous position, Commander.”

“I have it under control.” Tristan insisted as he rode toward the cliff.

He cursed as he saw what a messy position his men were in. Confused by the imposter, they had swarmed toward the edge of the cliff overlooking a turbulent river. They have also accidentally drawn the soldiers of the Southwest armies and Eastern armies to the edge as well. 

This will be messy and difficult. Suddenly, Tristan’s horse flinched under him. Alarmed, Tristan hurriedly dismounted and looked around to see what could have caused the horse’s reaction. He was horrified to find another cause for concern: a light quaking beneath his feet.

Tristan suddenly remembered that it had been raining heavily recently. This also meant that there was a high possibility of a mudslide coming. And there were so many people on the cliff…

“Retreat!” Tristan shouted, yanking off his helmet so he could shout louder. “Everyone, retreat! There’s a mudslide coming! The cliff is going to collapse!”

At his words, several men nearest to him looked horrified and quickly disengaged. 

However, it was already too late. The rumbling under his feet intensified, and as he watched in horror, the ground underneath them gave way. The fighting quickly stopped as soldiers lost their balance and fell. They started screaming again, not from pain this time, but fear. The entire cliff, as well as the surrounding earth around it, crumpled apart and started sliding downward, down toward the river, which was very turbulent as a result of the heavy rain from before.

So this is how I die, Tristan thought as he felt himself falling along with his men. Gods, what are my parents going to think when they find out?

All he could hear were incoherent screaming. The earth and the skies blurred together in his eyes until all he could see was water.

Then, the water hit him and he knew nothing more.