The men scrambled to their feet, their movements hurried but deliberate. Each one checked their weapons, ensuring they had everything they needed for the battle ahead. With a collective breath, they readied themselves and began their march. Their steps were sluggish, weighed down by the lingering effects of chloroquine in the air. Though weakened, their spirits were bolstered by Nova's unwavering confidence that they would emerge victorious. After a grueling 30-minute march, they arrived at a vast field spanning approximately 700 acres. The openness of the terrain left them vulnerable, exposed to potential attacks from any direction.
Ahead of them stood a formidable band of around 1,200 men. The enemy was arranged in three distinct lines, each composed of 400 soldiers. The first line was made up of drummers, their rhythmic beats echoing across the field, and swordsmen with blades sheathed at their waists. They erupted into a war cry, a haunting sound reminiscent of the Bavarian war chant, designed to sow confusion and make Nova's men question the identity of their true enemy.
Just as Nova was about to signal the offensive, Louis grabbed his arm, his voice trembling with urgency. "That's not all of them. We're outnumbered, brother. Let's surrender while we still can," he pleaded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to fight if Nova gave the command.
Nova turned to him, his expression resolute. "We made a deal with Napoleon. We've provoked both the lion and the cat, and neither will take us in now. If you think Otto is bad, wait until you see what Napoleon will do to us. Have you ever heard of the guillotine?" Louis hesitated, then nodded solemnly. "As you wish, brother," he said, drawing his sword and raising it high into the air.
"Charge!" Louis bellowed, and the men surged forward in a 500-meter sprint toward the enemy. The first line of drummers retreated seamlessly between the ranks, their drums still pounding, while the second line of 400 long-range shooters advanced, chanting "For Bavaria!" They knelt in unison, allowing the third line of 400 short-range shooters, armed with short-barreled muskets, to rush forward just behind them. From his vantage point high in a tree, Friedrich watched as Nova and Louis disappeared into the chaos of the charging lines. He swiftly drew his dart shooter, aiming carefully at the two princes. His plan was to remove them from the battlefield without Klaus's knowledge, as they were crucial to his master plan. With a steady hand, he fired, and Nova fell. Louis glanced up in the direction of the shot, only to be struck down as well. Both princes collapsed to the ground, unnoticed by their bloodthirsty comrades, who continued their charge.
The Serpents, hidden in secretive positions across the field, took advantage of the chaos. They fired more darts, incapacitating the front and side lines of Nova's men. The soldiers behind them began to falter, their charge slowing as they tried to assess the situation and decipher the next move of their unseen foes.
Amid the turmoil, Friedrich saw an opportunity. He ordered 50 of his bravest men to retrieve Nova and Louis from the battlefield. He needed them alive and out of the war. As the Serpents approached the enemy lines, the 1,200 men opened fire. The long-range shooters in the front line unleashed a volley that decimated the first wave of attackers, then crouched to reload, allowing the line behind them to take their shots. Some of Nova's men retreated, others collapsed from the lingering effects of chloroquine, and a few pressed forward, returning fire. However, their aim was erratic, and out of seven relentless rounds, they managed to kill only two drummers and one long-range shooter.
Suddenly, shots rang out from all directions, creating the illusion that the enemy surrounded them. In the confusion, the 50 Serpents dragged the unconscious princes from the battlefield. Before Nova's men could react, they found themselves encircled by Klaus and Friedrich's forces. The drumming intensified, and Nova's men halted their attack, prompting the enemy to cease firing as well. Klaus emerged from the shadows to the east, his presence commanding and almost supernatural, as if he had materialized from thin air.
"Men of Bavaria," Klaus declared sharply, "I urge you to join Otto's side and avoid further bloodshed. You are weakened and outnumbered. We do not ask for your surrender; we ask for your allegiance. Our spies have intercepted Napoleon's troops advancing toward us this morning. Their army is vast, and they will slaughter us all if we remain divided. Join us, and together we can stand against them. Otto, your warrior and now the lord of Bavaria, values his men. Let us unite as brothers, or we will all perish here."
The men hesitated, murmuring among themselves as they weighed their options. By then, more than 700 of their comrades lay dead, and another 200 were injured. The generals stepped forward, calling out for the princes, who remained unresponsive. They crossed the field to where Klaus and Friedrich stood, their faces etched with uncertainty. The dead were quickly carried to the edge of the field, and the soldiers began washing their faces to rid themselves of the chloroquine's effects, preparing for the possibility of another attack.
As they tended to the wounded, they discovered that around 300 of their men had been sedated rather than killed. This revelation led them to believe that their enemies sought not to destroy them but to reach an understanding. The absence of the princes further fueled their confusion, as no one had seen them escape, and they were not among the dead. This growing uncertainty increased the likelihood of surrender among the men.