Under the radiant sun that shone high in the sky, casting its warm rays upon the world, the battlefield unfolded below. The sun's brilliance touched everything, from the intricate dance of black birds soaring high and circling above to the men on the ground engaged in a deadly struggle.
The king rode through the hills, overseeing the archers positioned strategically to rain arrows upon the approaching enemy. As he observed, the archers deftly pulled their bows, the sinew bending, and then released, sending a volley of arrows soaring through the air.
The king dismounted from his horse and ventured even further to the right, positioning himself on the front line of the archers. His King's Guard Commander, Hans, voiced his concern, urging the king to refrain from such a perilous move. However, the king turned towards his loyal knight, his voice resonating from the iron mask he wore.