The Rise of Tisus Magnus

20 years before the founding of Arcadia, Commander Tisus Larissa has just received word that the Larrian slaves north of the peninsula are revolting. And that due to the lack of men, he would be assigned commander of the force that's sent to pacify them.

The young Commander was reluctant, after all. He wasn't all that much experienced in actual warfare, no, he was not prepared at all in all of it. And he's only devising now new reforms specifically for his unit. He doesn't know how he will be able to properly implement it into the force being given to him.

"Lieut-" His protest was interrupted by the tall Lieutenant General shushing him down.

"You accept, Commander. Or you disappoint the King? Need I remind you of your recklessness when it comes to your army, Tisus. The king is displeased that whatever it is you want to do with your unit has proven to have no results whatsoever."

The air in the office was tense, putrid. The Lieutenant, even while sitting down seems to be staring down at the Commander. Tisus grits his teeth at the captain, but sighs. "I won't let you down, Lieutenant."

"Good, don't want the king to have awful commanders now don't we?"

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

Tisus left the office and breathed under the arid heat of the city. Summertime, a great time for conquests, a great time for revolts. He read the report they gave to him as he walked towards the barracks of his forces.

The slaves of Larrian have revolted a month ago, establishing the republic of Laria and taking territories from Sicilia. They've numbered 100,000 strong and are slowly creeping their way south towards the capital. Due to the maximizing of forces in the frontlines of the Sartorian wars of succession, he will be given a small army of 16,000 troops. 5,000 of which are from his own men.

He was disappointed to be sure, but he'll have to make the best of what he has.

At the barracks, he meets with his men and the numerous commanding officers that ease the flow of command that makes up his council. "Commander Tisus. Welcome back. What have they told you?" Asked Lirrel Tria, one of Tisus' undermen. Although older than him, Lirrel remains loyal to the young commander who he mentored since birth.

"Well, they're sending us to our deaths." Replied Tisus, "16,000 to 100,000. They probably are well-armed, beating a bunch of armies before them after all."

"Tsk. Come'ere boy." Tria walked towards the camp on the east side of the barracks, serving as Tisus' office. As they entered, Tria went to the compartments in Tisus' table, took a book, and dusted it. "Here ya go."

"What's this then?" Asked Tisus, sitting down, "A language I can barely comprehend is what I'm seeing."

"You are unfamiliar, but I must excuse myself that I did not read this to you sooner." Tria sighed, "Perhaps I can read it to you then." Tria moved comfortable chairs towards Tisus and sat in front of him. Manipulating water and a bit of light to enhance his vision, he took the book.

"Can you tell me what it is first, I don't want my time wasted. We need to prepare!" He shouted.

"Calm boy, I will be reading to you.. The Art of War."

At first, he refused. But this was the man who first taught him how to wield a sword. The man who has quelled rebels before. So he agreed, and for the next five days, as his army packed their belongings to fight the enemy upfront, the old man read to him the art of war. And from there he learned.

He also learned, from various reports of his scouts, that a large enemy army is holed up in one of the fortresses they built throughout the Empire's early frontiers. And that the numbers are accurate, they are 100,000 strong. And they are merely 16,000.

That night, the commander's tent was busy with procuring a plan. And a plan they procured, but it was stupid.

"A siege?! Are you mad boy, we don't even have enough men to properly build at least 10 towers, let alone sieging it!" Tria shouted.

Tisus was looking at the detailed map of the surroundings of the fortress as given by his scouts. And the more he looked at it, the more he nodded, the more he continuously muted away the ranting of Tria.

The commander turns around and faced the old man, their eyes met and the old man sighed. "You've made your mind have you."

"Well yes, but I need your assistance." He replied, still looking at the map.

"Tell me then."

"They've trapped themselves in lower Matrix thinking that we have more than a hundred thousand so we'll lay siege. We have to take advantage of that and take initiative by capturing decent villages surrounding the city."

"Mhm. But won't they know our n-"

"That's where you come in, Tria. We need to make them think that a large force is slowly engulfing them. Taking their towns one by one. So."

"So?"

"We're splitting our forces."

"You've gone mad, boy. But I know what you're doing." The old man rubs his nose, and slides the book in his pack, "How would you expect us to keep that advantage then?"

"Apprehending their scouts seem good work. I want you to further split your forces and take as many supplies from other places as possible. Make them feel surrounded. Then, I'll be waiting for you in the forests near Kaia river."

"I see. I see. I'll take your word for it."

"Good dismissed."

Tria saluted the commander and left. Then, as commanded, they spread around. Dividing themselves into 8 thousands, then 4 thousands, then 2 thousands. Taking each village like a storm all around. Over time, they've surrounded the city of Lower Matrix. Apprehending each and every scout they notice. Except one.

It was a part of Tisus' plan, to bait the people inside the city into going out and beating them in a decisive battle. Of course. They can choose to siege out the enemy, but they'll lose in a disadvantageous position. Making the enemy think that they can slowly take down the enemy bit by bit, give them hope of winning, they'll take it. No matter how foolish it might sound.

And they did.

The rebels followed the alleged detachment towards the Partiuso lake, taking three days to do so.

In the night before the battle, Tisus planned his attack.

The northern end of Partiuso lake is surrounded by mountains with small flatlands leading to the coast. The flatlands themselves is surrounded on one side by impassable terrain, a perfect place to set up a defense. And that's where Tisus set it up. A well-fortified position with garrison units, a large campfire to lead the enemy to it.

The construction was done before the morning's mist set in, a crude construction. High walls of wood, rickety platforms, and of course, the campfire. And in the distance, surrounded by the foggy mist, sometimes the smoke is the clearest thing you can see.

It took at least an hour before the army came at a full stop, overstretched and in no position. An undisciplined mass. The front line is facing the walls of the fort, making torches as they slowly burn it down. The garrison there are trying their best to defend against the mass of humanity. Using wind magic taught to them by Tisus the crossbowmen slowly chip away at the numbers of the inaccurate frontline. But even so, they don't budge, the frontline pushes, as the walls burn more and more.

The first walls burn more as the garrison retreated to the second section of the fort. Making the frontlines stretch further, their masses becoming more disorganized as they charge into the charred remains.

Suddenly, a rumbling can be felt all throughout the lands. Unnoticeable by the charging masses, but nevertheless a cause for concern. Even more so when Tisus' cavalry carved through their lines from the mountains, decimating their lines and cutting them off in three ways. With the frontline none the wiser.

Tisus leads the charge from the backmost part of the ambushing group while Tria leads the frontside. There was chaos amongst the rebels, who do not know the exact number of the ambushing forces. The charge pushed hundreds of men to the lake, drowning in the armor they wore. As well as giving way for Tisus' limited infantry and crossbowmen to make work of the surrounded units as they pushed further and further, sandwiching them. It was a massacre.

The fortified units held their ground inside their fortifications, while the frontline of the rebels keep charging into them. Not realizing that their backline is completely exposed. As Tisus' complete force charged behind, destroying them.

After hours of endless fighting, it was over. Their muscles were sore, and Lake Partiuso ran red with blood.

The entire rebel force was decimated. While the losses for Tisus' army were minimal, numbering to at least 300 to 600 men.

This victory caused the rapid dissolution of the Larrian republic.

Back home, Tisus was awarded a military triumph in his honor, being awarded also the title of "Magnus" which means "Great" reserved only for military commanders which achieved great victory against insurmountable odds.

Tisus Magnus went to fight in the Satormian wars of succession, reforming the Sicilian Empire's army to become more effective in range, with their crossbows that were scarily effective in the line of battle.

Following the death of Tria, he went on to perfect his guerrilla style of fighting. Never to be found in open battle, a protege of the dark and trickery. Tisus Magnus remains undefeated.