[h1][center][color=fff79a]Alexander Myerscough[/color][/center][/h1][hr]
[color=fff79a]"In case you receive my lifeless body, this empire is then yours general. I expect chaos to happen, but hopefully, my efforts in stalling time at Maw will not be in vain."[/color]

[color=c4df9b]"But will you return, your majesty?"[/color]

[color=fff79a]"...Yes."[/color]

Those were the last words exchanged between Alexander and his most trusted friend and general, Annibas. He was pretty much the finest and all-rounded military and political leaders of all time. And more importantly, he was Alexander's childhood friend, who he had studied with in caves with his private tutor, fought against during battle simulating games, and stood side by side on one of his most extraordinary conquest he had ever had. There was no other individuals that could befit to become the next heir to the Acity Empire than him, and there were no others that Alexander trusted to leave his empire to while he was absent. 

Alexander knew that this expedition might be his last, for he was forced to fight against an army that outnumbered them umpteenth times. He knew that this battle would be a big lost on his magnificent records of victories, a full stop to the seemingly unending streak of triumphs. But this battle was not intended to be won after all. Its only goal was to delay against the march of the Sylver Empire, so that the Western Maw could have enough time to prepare for total war. It was his mistake. He was too careless, too focused on conquest that he failed to realize such threats were looming over the other side of the world. And now he must be ready to face the consequences. 

The tale whether did he keep his promise and return to have another conversation, or die bravely at the relentless and unmerciful mountain pass of Maw, was yet to be told.

[center]----o0o----[/center]

The young king stood straight with silence and composure, along with his two generals who all volunteered to come with him, William and his daughter Arturia, as he hear the experienced-looking yet impulsive Galatian commander go all his way to loathe at the orc as the barbaric warrior offered his leadership on the first day. Alexander merely shook his head in disappointment. What does he think he is? Some holy and noble gods who judge people? What is he to compare the entire culture to a small army of only nearly five hundreds? 

Alexander had much experience with this kind of fools. He met them, he argued with them, and he crushed them for their foolish thoughts and acts. And he was no stranger to him. He was Florian Józef Czaja, the second prince of Galatia, the Kingdom that he once tried to negotiate a trade agreement with but failed, because of Alexander's reputation as a conqueror of the Northern Region. Whether Florian was against the trade or not was not known, but it left a bad taste in the young king. And this little petty rant added more salt to injury 

Fortunately, the other commanders were apparently more logical and had a sense of unity, although the past grudges still remained. But still, the question who would be commanding this battle was yet to be answered. And judging by the looks of it, all of them seemed to have the confidence of military leadership, yet none have that competence, nor the manner of a military commander. They all talk and talk, and yet they had not offered their strategies on the table. The battle was won on the battlefield, with well-coordinated and well-thought out strategies, not using the art of arrogance. 

It was at this moment that Alexander knew he had to speak up, with a wise tone of a king, addressing the entire room as a whole. 

[color=fff79a]"I don't want to hear your blank promises any longer. If anybody wants to offer leadership of this little army we assembled, then state what you have in mind. The battle is won with spears and swords, not your words."[/color]