* * * Elara's POV

"Make sure you stay alive in the front line," I said to Gunnar.

Gunnar looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Elara, I've been through many battles."

I knew that Gunnar was a tough man, but he was still human. No matter how strong a human was, it only took a few attacks to kill them.

I, as a magic user, was no exception. If I were hit by a fatal attack, I would lose my life.

"I've been waiting for this moment for a long time," he continued.

Draven signaled, and then he left.

In the place where I was, the long-range attack unit received orders to advance and attack. We moved forward. When we reached the front line, we stopped and waited for further instructions.

"Fire!"

We simultaneously released our arrows at the enemy. Arrows flew and pierced the enemy's bodies.

The enemy's long-range attack unit retaliated.

Some of the enemy's attacks came dangerously close to hitting me, but I managed to create an earthen barrier for protection. I conjured a large-scale fireball and hurled it at the enemy's formation. The fireball successfully burned the enemy, and their cries of pain echoed.

Burn!

Using large-scale magic consumed a lot of my magical energy, so I had to switch to smaller-scale magic. I kept shooting and casting my spells, and the enemy began to retreat.

The enemy's long-range attack unit was no match for us. They fell back and sent in their close-combat units. We were ordered to fall back behind the front line of close-combat attackers.

We slowly retreated while shooting and casting spells at the enemy.

On our side, the close-combat attackers moved forward and clashed with the enemy. I stood behind the front line, using my magic to assist them. I had to be careful not to harm my comrades.

In battles like this, our long-range attack unit would usually kill the enemy's soldiers who attempted to flee and break out of their formation.

But none of the enemies did that. They were northerners, and I had read about them.

The northerners had a strong military tradition that had lasted for centuries. They were accustomed to fighting and defending their land.

Their beliefs also placed a strong emphasis on bravery and honor. They believed that those who died in battle would go to Valhalla, a heavenly place where they would continue to fight and hunt.

As a result, the northern people had become some of the most feared warriors. They were tough and courageous, not easily retreating from a fight. They would fight to the death to demonstrate their bravery on the battlefield.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

I could see that the northerners we faced were no different.

In the midst of the battle between the two sides, I saw the right-wing unit beginning to move.

Be careful, Draven.

* * * Draven's POV

The unit leader shouted, "Get ready! We're going to flank them from the right wing! Run without hesitation until you fully encircle them!"

We rushed toward the enemy's right wing. Attacking with surprise from the side to disrupt their formation and provide assistance to our comrades on the front lines.

Cheers echoed from the front lines as they heard and saw our arrival, instantly boosting their morale.

We managed to infiltrate the enemy's right wing. We swung our swords and ran, our eyes unblinking, and adrenaline surged.

The unit leader roared, "Where's your battle cry!? Show your anger!"

We responded to our leader's call with a loud battle cry, boosting the spirits of the soldiers around us.

We stormed the enemy from their side.

No longer thinking about whether I would survive or die. For me, this was the moment where my life merged with the flow of battle.

If I survived, I would return and quickly fall asleep, and if I died in this battle, I would sleep forever. There was no difference.

I continued to advance, my sword writhing in my grip, cutting down the enemy one by one. There was no room for doubt in my mind.

I will kill them!

* * * Gunnar's POV

The right wing unit had moved,

Dariel shouted, "Gather! We'll join forces with the right wing!"

We gathered around Dariel and began to move forward.

Killing all the enemies blocking our path. Our swords slashed, and our spears pierced. The blood of enemies and comrades flowed onto the ground, their bodies scattered everywhere.

I let out a loud yell as I struck down my enemies.

As the right wing's strength joined us, we cut down the enemy's right-wing forces. They were helpless against us, and they were killed within minutes.

The battle was nearly over. We just had to wait until all of our enemies were truly dead.

The battle had reached its climax. Hours had passed, and finally, victory was on our side.

I took a deep breath, feeling the thick air filled with the scent of iron and spilled blood filling my lungs. The beautiful sunlight pierced through the clouds, creating a calm atmosphere in stark contrast to the lifeless bodies lying on the ground.

My footsteps echoed, and I looked around. Post-battle tasks were underway. Enemy survivors were being apprehended, and those who resisted would be eliminated.

While some soldiers were escorting prisoners, others were helping gather the bodies of our fallen comrades. Some were collecting intact war equipment from piles of corpses.

Many soldiers were also rushing to inspect and loot the contents of the northern boats.

My eyes were fixed on Elara, who was working to heal wounds and alleviate the suffering of her comrades.

It was only now that I realized that Draven was nowhere to be seen.

"Draven!" I shouted.

My eyes scanned for signs of him. Seeing the pile of bodies, I imagined the worst-case scenario.

"Damn it, Draven, don't tell me you..." My words choked in my throat, too difficult to utter.

I continued to run around searching for him. "Draven!" I shouted for the second time.

Then someone spoke not far from where I stood. "Quit yelling, Gunnar."

I stopped and looked in the direction of the familiar voice. Draven was lying amid the scattered corpses. I ran over to him and knelt beside him.

"Draven! Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Urgh, I told you to quit yelling. I'm fine, don't bother me," he said. "I'm resting."

"I was worried about you, you bastard!"

Then I laughed heartily at his antics. I dropped to the ground, lying beside him, and sighed with relief.

* * * Dariel's POV

I saluted the sergeant. "Sir, report!" I said, ordering my subordinates to bring the surviving enemy soldiers.

The northern soldiers were brought before the sergeant. "Good, I hope there's someone in the city who can translate their language. We need to interrogate them," the sergeant said.

The northern soldiers began to smile and laugh with each other. They had just suffered a defeat, but they did this as if they were not afraid.

The sergeant then looked at the northern soldiers, and one of them spat at him.

"Damn it!" the sergeant then struck the northern soldier's head hard.

The northern soldier was stunned for a moment, then said, "Fólk á norðri verður aftur einnig, drepi ykkur eins og sauðfé sem við borum og spænum!"

I didn't understand what the northern soldier said, but I could feel his anger.

The sergeant then ordered his subordinates to take the northern soldiers away.