The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across the plains near the border of Tejas. The United States of Mexico had gathered its forces—a regiment of seasoned infantry bolstered by cavalry, their banners fluttering in the gentle breeze. Colonel Alejandro Morales, a proud and battle-hardened leader, rode at the head of his column. His deep-set eyes scanned the landscape ahead, the barren expanse deceptively peaceful.
Reports had indicated Amerathian troops stationed beyond the hills, and Morales was eager to press the attack. The Grand Republic's border skirmishes had emboldened him. Victory today would send a message that Mexico would no longer tolerate Amerathian encroachments into disputed territories.
"We'll show them," Morales muttered to himself, gripping the reins of his steed. His officers rode beside him, their expressions resolute. The infantry marched in formation, muskets resting on their shoulders, while the cavalry trotted confidently behind them.
