Act Fourteen: Silman's Sorrow (II)

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"What is Madara's commander doing?" Valerie, commander of the First Cavalry Battalion of the White Wing Cavalry, was pondering the same question. She raised her head. Across the battlefield, illuminated brilliantly by magic, the skeleton army was making a strange move. It was slowly turning, but its movements were so sluggish that it seemed like a dying old man, making it almost impossible for it to turn its front toward them and attack before the cavalry wedge arrived. Madara's left flank was still directly exposed to the threat of Eluin's two cavalry battalions. She could even tell that, even if her attack passed between them, they would not have time to turn around and surround them.

This was an excellent opportunity.

But Valerie saw that the skeleton army was dispersing, as if deliberately making way for her. If this had happened to a human army, then according to the cavalry manuals, the enemy would certainly have collapsed. All that remained would be to drive them forward like ducks. Yet a deep sense of vigilance rose in the female knight commander's heart. What stood before her was an undead army, and undead could not suffer a collapse in morale—unless something had happened to the Liches driving these Bone Frames from behind.

Was someone attacking this Madaran army? The hopeful thought had barely crossed her mind when something suddenly appeared in her field of vision, and her heart sank.

Behind the opening that was forming, several tall figures suddenly appeared. They were neither clumsy Corpse Monsters and Crusader Executioners, nor Black Knights with Soul Fire blazing beneath their armor. They were strange riders, like skeletons mounted on horses, their bodies covered in dark chainmail and leaning on long