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St. Adalbertberg, Eastern Ceylon
Date: January 5, 1857

"FRANZ!!" His Majesty Louis I had been scolding the poor field marshal all day.

"Ye-yes, Yo-your Majesty?" Franz meekly requests. "I can't believe how you lost the battle off Begoniaputra! You had a numbers and technological advantage, yet you still lost!! Somehow! Now I'm forced to ship an insane amount of machine guns, cannons, desert wear, and ammunition over here just to keep the war going! Our previous skirmishes have mounting casualties because some ditz let the enemy break it all! Not to mention we're the laughing stock of the world because of your loss!" Louis rants. At the coast of St. Adalbertberg, personnel were unloading crate after crate of wartime supplies.

He unsheathes his sabre.

"Your Majesty, there was a sandstorm and---"

Louis bonks Franz on the head with the pommel of his sword.

"You blithering idiot. I am going to be leading future battles myself then." He sneers towards Franz, venom running thick in his voice.

Another one of the king's marshals, Carlos Fuente, walks over to the king.

"Yes?" Louis switches back to his normal polite tone.

"Where do we attack next?" Carlos asks.

"Come with me to the command tent." The king orders. He turns towards Franz. "You as well." He continues.

The three men enter the large but plain maroon tent. In the center of the tent was a table, with a large map displaying the entirety of Ceylon. A sizable red line covered a good chunk of the north eastern part of the nation. St. Adalbertberg, formerly known as Brahmat-khan, was engulfed by this red cloud alongside some towns Sakiria managed to capture.

"We're obviously not going for Begoniaputra again. Any suggestions?" Louis grabs a nearby quill, dipped in red ink and crosses out the city

Carlos keeps silent.

"How about Vijaya-upon-Temes?" Louis suggests. He points to a city just south of the capital Ramaputra. "We could sandwich the capital between the two, and capture Ramaputra, and thus it's sovereignty." He continues.

"We can't risk overextending. From what we've captured, we don't have the resources to open a second front and keep it open for long." Carlos advises.

"Good point. We could attack the northern city of Gloris-khan, flank them from our left, and advance right towards the capital." Louis says.

"But that means they'll use their resources from the south. We need someone to raid it." He continues, sorrow beginning to coat his tone.

Before another word slips from Carlos' mouth,
"I will need you and your troops to live off the land. Get whatever supplies you can from the enemy. I am sad to say that you will serve as a distraction for my northern advance. " Louis orders.

"I-i'd ne-never thought you would order something like thi-this, Your Majesty, but I will oblige." Carlos bows.

"I have been observing the Ceylonese forces. It seems they'll always resort to attacking quickly to decisively end the battle. Their cavalry seems to constantly be gunning for our artillery. I suggest we keep the distance and destroy our targets from range." Franz explains.

"I never knew something good would come from your mouth. However, we must be careful about bringing in our artillery too fast or else they'll get wrecked again. I believe we should order a preemptive airstrike, pound them with artillery next, and finish them off with cavalry for a quick decisive battle. We'll bring infantry in case the battle goes on longer than expected." Louis explains back.

"That sounds excellent, Your Majesty. When do we attack?" Carlos asks.

"By 11:00am in the morning." Louis answers.
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Tomorrow 11:00am had come. The war drums and alarms sound.

"Men, get going!" Raphael Alvery commands his unit of lancers.

Sakirian infantry grab their rifles, artillerymen prepare to wheel their cannons, and cavalry mount their horses.

Louis is seen infront of them, also on his horse. "Let me explain our strategy. Last night, our aviators have been up all night ravaging the Ceylonese forces at Gloris-khan. So let's make this attack count, eh?" The king seemed surprisingly casual with the whole affair, trotting near the line of soldiers.

The soldiers stare on in stony-faced silence.

"If the enemy appears scattered, the cavalry will attack first before retreating. This will give the signal for our artillery to attack. If they are in tight formation, the artillery will strike first and then the cavalry will follow suit. Understood?" Louis continues.

The soldiers salute.

"Very well. Gott mit uns!" He cheers in an amiable tone.

"Gott mit uns!"
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"Eugh...are the strikes over yet?" A Ceylonese rifleman comments as he climbs out of a hastily made foxhole. The desert battlefield was left punched with holes and splattered with the blood of the luckless.

An eerie silence strikes the battlefield. More and more soldiers warily climb out of the foxholes. "I think the bombardment is over." King Antonius V of Ceylon stood calm and still during the entire hellish bombardment.

His soldiers were utterly dazzled by the young king's natural calm.

"How are you still alive?!
"How are you so calm?!"
"You are truly blessed by Shahara!"

The glint of steel catches Antonius' eye. He takes out his spyglass. A row of cannons and cavaliers were being marched forth. The blue sash of the artillerymen and red sash of the cavaliers shone against the pulverized, brown desert sand. Antonius saw that black-haired, blue-eyed young man once again.
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On the other side of the barren desert battlefield, stood Louis. "Kätte den dur!" ("Cut them down!") He yells.

"Kätte den dur!"

Raphael yells to his unit before charging.

The Sakirian lancers' warhorses neigh before charging at the enemy. The loud thunder and tremble of hooves fill the air as the Sakirian lancers draw their weapons.

Soon enough, the battlefield was drenched in Ceylonese blood. Men fell in droves as lances struck them like lightning and thunder. Ceylonese cannons were shattered like glass.

"To the heavens above...what kind of demon am I facing?" Antonius was paralyzed in fear as he watches the Sakirian lancers brutally slaughter his troops.

A messenger on horseback gallops over to the young king. "Your Majesty, the southern province of Vijaya is under attack by Sakirian forces!" She announces. "But how? I'm facing the Sakirians here. This must be a distraction." Antonius calmly juxtaposes.

"Men, retreat now!" He orders, making his voice heard through the chaos of battle.

"Swedish forces stand alone.
King has left command.
Rule is left to lesser men.
Waiting for their chance."

Most of the Ceylonese soldiers turn tail and follow their horseback king to the best of their ability.

But some stayed behind.

Raphael and his lancers soon found themselves facing the Ceylonese Royal Guard.

One of the lancers twirls his lance, giving a psychotic grin towards the steely-eyed glaring Royal Guards.

"No. We are going to retreat and report to His Majesty. There's no use wasting time, effort, and human lives here." Raphael orders. His unit gives a collective salute.
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As the silouette of the Sakirian lancers shrank into the distance, "We should catch up to Antonius." The captain of the guard and supposed mistress of the king, Diana Vijra orders.

Now, the city of Gloris-khan and it's defenders were left to their own devices against the Sakirian war machine.