The moment Luca accepted the battle and stood ready to face Sigrid, the entire valley erupted with excitement.
"YOU CAN DO IT, SIGRID!"
"SHOW HIM THE MIGHT OF THE GALLOPING BRIGADE!"
"FOR THE QUEEN! FOR HONOR!"
Hooves stomped against the earth in rhythmic thunder, and voices rose in a chorus of encouragement that echoed across the hills.
The older ones, though more restrained, wore expressions of fierce pride.
It was a strange thing, this shift in atmosphere.
Earlier, when Luca had first arrived and everything had seemed so tense, the centaurs had been prepared for a grim outcome.
Every single one of them knew that if Luca had accepted the battle, Sigrid would lose no matter what. Sad, but predictable.
Because of this, a sense of gloom would have settled over the brigade like a funeral shroud, because Sigrid was their strongest.
She was the pillar upon which their morale rested.
