"Winter?" Alpheo muttered, the laughter still bubbling beneath his breath. For a fleeting second, he worried he was overplaying his hand, but he had already committed his toe to the ledge; it was only proper to follow with the rest of his foot.
All or nothign , stack the deck and throw the dice.
"I think you put far too much stock in the frost. Aye, the Kakunians may drift away like the leaves when the first snow falls, but the grain will still flow. Whether I have Merelao's spears or not, you cannot hope to dislodge us with your meager, shivering numbers. Your forces would likely shatter at the first taste of open air without the safety of your stone skirts to hide behind."
The tightness in Alpheo's chest loosened a fraction as he watched the color drain from Sorza's face. It's working, he told himself, just a bit more.
"It will be a slaughter," Sorza stammered, his voice cracking like thin ice. "Your army—"
