The princess has launched a magical attack on your behalf, now you must take advantage of it...
>>6290195
>>6290195
>>6290195

Iacula glacialia, in te voco, defluunt in arcum!

The air around you began to condense; the dew of the morning, once dispersed by the sun, now began to recoalesce as the temperature began to drop. Within a minute, tiny pieces of ice were beginning to appear. Which soon began to take form and weight as throwing spears.

You knew what was to be done next; you used your hand to start lifting up the javelins, slowly raising them into a good firing arc that would rain down death from above.

With a swift motion, you released the icy javelins into the air, watching as they soared towards your enemies below. Though the distance had made it so that you couldn't exactly see where or how they would land.

Nevertheless, you were of the belief that your aim had been true, if a little off the mark, for it was difficult to aim for the Svengalians without hitting your, or rather, your father's, troops.

The exercise had been tiring enough, but it was not as exhausting as it was in Ölfland, thanks to a magic-storing amulet that you wore around your neck. The amulet had been a gift from the elven court mage, who had given it in a showing of the diplomatic exchanging of gifts. An aquamarine gemstone inlaid in a silver necklace.

You had been strained, but not exhausted, and you were happy for it. It was now time for you to retire back to ride once more by your father's side.

Back to King Albrecht.

The show of those icy spears had been a great surprise, both to the men in your army and their enemies. Though Sophia had partially overshot, they still came down upon the Svengalians where the rear of the frontline units and their reserves met. A good chunk of them would die, perhaps, or be wounded; others would be lucky to have the ice break upon their armour or helmets, but the effect on the morale was still there.

Though it didn't break them, the Svengalians did seem to forget that they were still at battle, as though they had simply forgotten. They had stopped and now looked behind their rear to see as to what exactly had happened.

It was a sudden lull that your subordinates didn't waste; without waiting for orders, they seized the initiative back.

"Whose Fähnlein is that?" You asked as the first part of the army began to advance.

''Von Falkenhayn, sire. But I would ask th-'' You cut your aid off.

''Never mind that; if this succeeds, I'll reward him for his initiative; if he fails, I'll have him sacked for insubordination.'' You declared.

Initiative, aye, Falkenhayn may have the right of it; he is, after all, closer to the details than you are. And your subordinates should be free to exploit or act on opportunities without always needing explicit orders from you. Trusting their judgement and rewarding their initiative can be worth the risk, and if they fail, you can posit that it is their own fault.

But first you will see if they can make do with their newfound freedom.