An even battle when one side was unprepared, and an-other when his forces outnumbered his opponents by nearly two to one. Nothing noteworthy there. Certainly nothing requiring a general of Dardas's unique talents. Any competent field commander could have managed as well. Of course, it was just as well that Matokin hadn't realized that, or Dardas likely would not be enjoying his second chance at life.

Of course, things should get a bit more interesting now, particularly with the annihilation of Udelph. The Isthmus's remaining city-states stretching to the south would no longer assume their own safety was guaranteed or that their usual defenses would suffice, since they were likely adequate only to repel skirmish-like onslaughts. Dardas was curious to see what his future enemies would come up with to try to halt him.

No, armies didn't change much, and so it didn't ultimately matter mat he was leading these Felk, and not his own people. It didn't matter that this was die Isthmus, not Northland, though how puny a strip of land this was by comparison. Had he lived long enough in his last life, he probably would have gotten around to conquering this land, once the disposition of the Northern Continent was firmly settled. Or he would have left the Isthmus for his heir, except that he had never produced one. Instead, he had died, and his army had unraveled. Northland had since reverted to a kind of general barbarism, so he was told.

Dardas's death had been natural. A fatal wrench to his heart that had made him bedridden, then released him into the void only a few days later. He recalled the experience, and it was a very strange tiling to recall one's own death.