15th of Firstleaf, third month of 984:
“Barony of Alpin, ruled by the Ashen Household. You shall be positioned in the c….”
“In the flank.”
“In the c”
“In the left flank.”
“In the c…!!”
“In the left flank.”
“In the left flank of the second frontline.” Gave up the Commander in charge of positioning the ‘disloyal’ baronies. The pressure Noct had started to smit had started to frighten him, and he knew Noct would have no qualms in parting his head from his shoulders if he didn’t bend. The scary armour wasn’t helping him either, giving the appearance of being a demon who would carry him to the nether.
“Remember, your combat mages are obliged to join the Duchess corps.”
Noct nodded and left the queue, returning to his army. ‘Full equipped men at arms?! They are going to be a pain to put down….’ He started to pale a bit after making some light calculations for the casualties if they were as trained as they looked.
“Good news?” Asked Andras, walking towards him.
“In the left flank, as we had hoped. What I didn’t hope for was losing two mages”
“Hoped? I could see that poor man sweating from our army!” Andras started to pat Noct in the back, “You have yet to lose your edge!....The mages, well, it is bad to lose, as you would say, two thirds of our combat force, but nothing we can do.”
Shrugging, Noct changed the topic, “Now, can we centre in making the formation? We got a position to be in and the attack is expected to occur in four hours.”
“Will the Duchess not give a speech?” Asked Andras, while making way to the commanders of the subdivisions of their army.
“I guess she already did, to her loyalist, in her palace. No words for those who are about to be betrayed I can guess.” Lowly grumbled Noct. His glare focused on the uncanny organisation of the armies. Some baronies had been located on the third frontline together with the countesses forces, and half of his lieges forces were reinforcing the middle of the second. ‘A lot of levies everywhere, are they even bothering to hide that something is wrong? Or do they do not even need to?’
“Well, it is certainly not something I would be able to stomach.”
After a few more minutes of rounding up the commanders, the army formed up and marched towards their destination. Stopping a bit far from the sand, Andras walked in and turned.
“Well, eyes at the front and open ears as I will not repeat this.” Taking in air, he upped the volume of his voice. “We will dig up trenches to take cover from the pirates bombardement! We have been delivered shovels by the supply company and we need to start digging now! We are the second line of defence and, while we may not receive direct bombardement, it will still be a threat. As the second frontlane entails, we will be reinforced according to your level of injury. You get stabbed, you retreat, get treated and, at the medics judgement, you will either come back or stay there!”
Looking around, he added, “Trust your training, trust your Commanders, and follow orders. Now dig! Your asses depend on it!”
Glancing to their back, he cursed, ‘I hate slopes.’. After all they were in the lowest part of the relatively normal plain. The terrain progressively got higher as his eyes traced the different armies in their formations in the third and fourth frontlines. The highest point was also where the densest part of the forest was nearest and where the forces of the Duchess were.
Not too step, but enough to be a pain in the ass if a retreat was needed. While it granted the support and artillery units better vision, it also granted those very units that could turn into enemies that same better vision and a more defensive position.
……….
“Two hours left? What a joke, they are already here.” Noct mussed as he looked at the sea, dozens of warships in the distance and as he finished his counting he had started from pure boredom, ‘Six hundred and one?’. “In between all my cursing, do you know who the new recruit is, Andras?”
“The who, my Lord?” Asked Andras, confused, from their position in a small mountain of dirt and sand.
“I counted our heads as they worked for their pay and I got an extra one. Could….” Before he could ask, Andras had bolted out to search for that person. “....No need to be in that rush, old friend.”
As minutes slowly tickled in, Noct started to doubt the rebels were really going for a pincer attack. The ships were too little, as expected, to hold the thirty thousand men the Duchess had cried about and he had started to be able to feel the increasingly bigger mana intake of the spell circle of their combat mages. ‘Going for a Seeder Barrage?’ As he turned to confirm his suspicious, he saw, at the top of the mount, the magic lightshow that had just started and, soon enough, pieces of land, taken from the very soil the mages stood upon, with more or less the same size of the upper part of a human shooted to the skies in a curved line, akin to the form of a parable.
These long artillery fire spells were invented by the Imperial College of Battle Mages. In reality, they were but ‘superheated’ stacked dirt with an edge enchanted to explode upon contact with the ground, dispersing the ‘superheated’ dirt. This term only implied it housed magically infused flames that burned ambient mana, sustaining themselves independently of availability of combustible materials.
This quality granted the dirt the ability to bathe the targets and, thanks to the heat, stick to them as it burned them alive. Applying water would just generate heated steam and, as the flames ate mana, dispelling the fires was not an option. The only thing a hit target could do would be scream as it burned. Armour was not a deterrent either, as the dirt conserved its powdery behaviour and would either melt the armour or sneak inside it.
In cases of lightly armoured targets, like unarmed peasants? That’s where it had gained its name from. As it bathed the target, countless flames would start blooming and would start to grow, encompassing all of the battlefield. The ‘superheated’ dirt acted as the metaphorical seeds, so it became the Seeder spell.
‘Already at range? They are at a minimum of eight kilometres away….Wait, that angle, they are shooting them too vertically….’ Noct quickly started to make calculations, ‘They are going to completely miss….No….they have aimed at.’ and quickly paled. Grabbing the horn that signalled the retreat, he blew it and amplified its noise with magic. His army, not reacting as quickly as it should due to its experience, started to panic as the Commanders tried to direct the unexpected retreat, as nothing had yet to happen.
“Retreat!!! To the Hills!!! Run for your lives!!!” He screamed the retreat. The warning lacking effectiveness on even the commanders. Meanwhile, the artillery projectiles reached the clouds and started to drop in altitude, wasting precious seconds.
When the army finally started moving, the first seeders dropped in the middle of the second frontline. Dozens of screams spouted out, screams that quickly got drowned by subsequent dozens of explosions and hundreds of screams. Now Noct’s army started to move as quickly as it humanly could. On the other side of the second frontline, skilled High Commanders also started the retreat as they catched onto the betrayal, not too late thanks to Noct’s unintentional warning. The centre, on the other hand, was where the artillery barrage was being focused on, and it was already nearing almost a thousand casualties. The fires had also started to bloom and had engulfed a fifth of the second frontline.
The first frontline, full of levies, started to panic, not knowing what was happening nor from where they were being attacked. That last problem was soon resolved, as the pirate warships opened fire and started to shell the first frontline from eight kilometres away, furthering the chaos and turning the levies completely unusable.
Sounding the horn again, Noct stayed in the midst of the growing chaos. Dividing his attention between screaming orders as he tried to direct the retreat and shooting stray Seeders with precision spell strikes upon their explosive zones, making them break in the air and disperse, he cursed again, ‘Where in the whole Nether is my High Commander!’
……….
Unrealistic and illogical fear had taken hold of him, and Andras found himself rushing through the trenches, searching for a glimpse of dark blue eyes on any of the faces he was passing by. ‘I’m just a paranoid old man. She wouldn’t disobey me in this manner. I explain….’ As soon as he was slowing down, a slim soldier bumped into him as they had been looking at the fleet.
“My apo.” As soon as his gaze looked downwards the words froze in his throat.
“Ah, dad, I, I can, eh, I can.” The sound of a backslap, most effective as he still wore his gauntlet, sounded in the trenches.
“Samil, why are you….” The sounds of the Horn of Retreat stopping his anger, he forced himself to look away from his daughter’s faze, whose lower lip had started to bleed and her check to swallow, and towards Noct. The order of retreat was met by slight confusion, until he catched a glimpse of yellow and red in the sky. Colours that soon dropped in the second frontline and started to scorch the earth.
Paling and realising what a tremendous blunder he had made, he started to scream orders to the nearby soldiers. Still, he made an unprofessional decision, as he grabbed her daughter's hand as he retreated first together with the nearby soldiers.
…………….
Not daring to wait for the last of his men, Noct cringed as he started to run, an action that made him unable to destroy one of the Seeders, which impacted on a few of the last men that had yet to flee towards the slope. Almost losing his footwork as memories almost forced his mind open as he watched those unlucky bastards burn alive, he gave a quick prayer for those forty men still retreating from the trenches.
Shaking his head, he upped his madman dash. He dodged, jumped over and sidestepped retreating soldiers as his legs pumped him forward. He needed time, time they did not have, as the third frontline was a minute and a half away if they kept their sprint. And that third frontline was full of crossbowmen surrounded by a nice and tidy formation of spearmen. He had to be the spear tip. ‘Damn to the Nethers my luck. I ordered Andras to train them in tight formations, and they are good at that, yes, but formation and discipline mean jack shit in an disorderly retreat that is an ‘every man for himself’ situation!’ Bypassing Andras and a slim soldier, who were among the first to retreat, he was too stressed to notice.
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What he did notice was his fears had been proven. At four hundred metres, the crossbowmen were loading their volley. Their formation had already changed from the optimal shooting formation, as these long ranged soldiers were already behind three lines of short range soldiers. The first two lines were armed with spears and the third with diverse equipment. The reason for the little enemy manpower was the infighting occurring in the third frontline, as the troops of Heiress Maliz were still putting up a good fight together with some baron troops that had managed to run away from the barrage and engaged the traitors in the eastern side. They wouldn’t hold for long, as the Duchess forces were in their way from the fourth frontline and towards the east, but Maliz’s troops could still be saved..
Still, little more manpower they needed to handle Noct’s army. A hundred crossbowmen could shoot a volley every seven to nine seconds, and Noct’s army would take a minimum of fifty four seconds to reach their position, as the slope was slowing them down. Taking in account the other three hundred soldiers, it should have been more than enough.
Noct reinforced with magic his legs and jumped forward, gaining a few seconds of advantage from his army. Having mastered a new barrier spell after the ambush they had faced a few months ago, he quickly used his Magic Binder ring to help him power up the illusion of a spell circled that encompassed the whole width of his retreating army. Punching the ground and inching the spell circle in the dirt, it created a magic barrier that blocked the line of aim of the crossbowmen.
Half a second later, the volley was fired. The enchanted bolts fell upon the barrier, on which countless small holes opened as the bolts’ heads poked through them. The holes instantly closed up again, trapping the bolts in the very mana forming the barrier, as it had constricted the bolts in the wooden shaft, grabbing them and stopping them in mid air.
The barrier coming down, as he had formed it from his own mana, the body of Noct hit his mind with all of its misgivings. His field of vision had been reduced to the centre of it, producing an extreme case of tunnel vision; his lungs burned and every breath felt like it didn’t bring enough air to take even a gulp; and he could no longer tell if he was standing or if he was crawling, as he no longer felt his legs from the rout. Forcing himself up again, he restarted his run ahead of his army.
He knew he was the only soldier armoured good enough to resist the head on collision. If he did not open a hole in the line, his army would half. Almost halfway across the distance that separated him from the enemy lines, the little sight his tunnel vision permitted him was not encouraging, as the crossbowmen had almost finished reloading.
Raising his left palm, he concentrated the last of his mana and shot a greenish bolt to the ground in front of the enemy’s line. Exploding upon impact, it raised enough dust to hide a third of the crossbowmen and the lines of soldiers, slowing them just enough for Noct to reach the fifty metres distance and jump again, diving in the dust cloud.
……….
“Fire!” Screamed a Commander of the forces of the Countess of Snowfall. He could not believe his eyes, the enemy lord had charged first and way ahead of his army towards a line of trained crossbowmen. Already praying for his bravery, the sight of the barrier sprouting out and nullifying the first volley impressed him. Still, they would reload in time.
Taking in air, his scream was silenced by the explosion that kicked up a house of dust into the air. Trying again, “Fire!” The screams of the soldiers of the barony were enough confirmation of its accuracy. But, another thing he did not expect, and one that chilled him to the core, was seeing the enemy Lord, cladded in black armour, fall from the inside of the dust cloud, behead three of his spearmen in mid air with a sword as black as the darkness of underground tunnels, receive and brush aside four differents strikes of both spears and swords, fall on top of another soldier and smash his head in the ground as if it had been a rotten tomato.
Taking a step back, he could only watch from his advantage position the carnage.
……….
His left hand already drenched in blood, he rose from his position with a vertical stab, impaling the head of another soldier and exiting Void’s tip from its helmet. Quickly forcing Void out with a slash, he cut through the head and into the collarbone of another.
The enemy did not stay silent nor quiet, and half a dozen spears found their mark. Most ricocheting of the metal plates, and one finding a weak joint on the armour. What it also found was why Noct’s armour incorporated a lot of shadow play. Because, as soon as the tip of the spear entered the vicinity of the darkened joint, the shadows turned pitch black and, inertia carrying the spear forward, ate the metal head of the weapon that was trying to stab them, leaving a useless wooden stick in the hands of the bewildered soldier..
The dent from a sword’s strike in the chestplate mended itself as if the metal itself had switched sides.
Completely abandoning defence, Noct lunged to the right side, trying to engage as many enemies to distort and disturb the formation. Using his slightly bigger longsword as a greatsword, he slashed with big and lengthy horizontal attacks, very effective in the crowded space of a formation. Cutting a man in half, piercing the chest of another with his left hand and stabbing again with Void, he pressed on.
His open back baiting the soldiers at the left side, the formation started to weaken. ‘A few seconds more….’ Prayed Noct as he suddenly found himself grabbed by the back. A jab to the face of the offender was enough to break his nose and throw him back. Now open at the front, another grabbed his sword while a spear broke against his right side. Punching the new attacker, two enemies jumped at his back to slow him down. As he revolved, a two handed hammer found his way to his chest plate, caving it in and slightly crushing his ribs.
A spear killing the hammerer, Noct’s army finally crashed against the chaotic line of spear men, fully utilising the hole in the formation and expanding it.
His sword now free, he stabbed the head of one of the men still glued to him and quickly turned to make the other lose his grip, failing in front of the routing army and getting stomped to death.
Taking a few seconds to recover his breath, not that his chest let the attempt be successful, he heard Andras scream.
“Forward, to our Lieges forces! Push men, Push!! Stop and die, run and live!!”
…………..
“High Commander Kraus, will we be able to break out?” Asked Maliz, pale but trying his hardest to maintain his noble persona.
“We are currently fighting to break the west side.” Dodged Kraus.
A knight rushing into the tent, he tried to talk before coughing for a bit. “....News from Commander Jumus,...., the Ashen Regent is rushing in with, more or less, four hundred men at arms. They are curr…” His head got cut off his body before he could end the sentence.
The surprise seemed to stop even the sounds of battle, adding to the surreal scene of Pozos turning towards another Knight with his bloodied blade and stabbing him in the neck. Block colouring the air, he turned against the last knight.
Kraus unsheathed his sword and rushed in, “You traitor!! How dare you!!” A riposte that almost got his eye and a kick that crushed his left knee were enough of an answer.
The other knight, not as brave, retreated together with Kraus, a manoeuvre that saved his life as he made enough space to dodge a thrust from Pozos.
…………
Samil had always daydreamed about becoming a knight, fighting the evil of the Empire and saving people. In her blissfully ignorance, she had idolised the battlefield as a place of honour and glory.
Today that illusion was crushing down as quickly and merciless as the odds the levies faced on the beach. After their breakthrough, in which they had only remained long enough as to kill a third of the crossbowmen, not that Andras had letted her out of her sight, they had resumed the run of their lives, now a desperate charge against the south of the encircling force that was threatening to consume their liege.
Overbearing guilt taking over her mind, as she knew her father was needed at the front of the charge, she tried to reason with him, “High Commander Andras, you need to cover our Lord.”
“Child, shut your mouth up right now! I ain’t leaving you here!”
“If we fail to break we will all die!! Please!! I can defend myself and you know it!!”
Knowing full well she was right, Andras gazed at Noct, galloping at the front. He hadn’t had the chance to repair his chestplate yet and his unstable steps were enough proof of that. Giving up, he growled, “We will have a talk after this.” His run speeding up, he left his daughter behind.
Now running alone, she felt even more lost. The screams of the burning soldiers of earlier started to ring again in her mind. She did not get a lot of time, as they collided again against another army, taking them by surprise. Her father and Noct breaching the partially prepared lines, as they had had time to prepare for that charge, she joined the fray.
Her random opponent resulted to be a single levy. Dressed like a farmer and with only a mail shirt and a rusty sword, he moved more due to fear than to rational decisions. Quickly knocking the sword of his hands, she went in for a stab before she hesitated thanks to the look of panic in his face. Missing the stab for the neck, she found herself wide open and he charged at her, knocking her on her back and also picking a nearby stone.
Her vision blurry, she did not have the time to react as the levy was stabbed on the side by another soldier before he could cave her skull in, falling on his other side and wriggling in pain. She observed, horrorized, as the hole in his side gushed blood until he only could twitch.
Trying to recover her breath, the chaos of battle was nauseating. Trying, and failing, to get up, uneasiness started to seep in. Her legs and back hurting like hell, she saw an open hand closing in and grabbed it.
“Samil, what in the mountain’s guts are you doing here?!” Asked Likos as he helped her to her feet. Knowing this was not the moment, he changed his tune, “Quick feet soldier! If we lag behind we will stay forever!”
Likos quickly engaged another enemy. He used his smaller frame to parry a strike and smash with his mace his kneecaps. Another soldier tried to help his injured comrade and Samil rushed forward, sliding his sword and stabbing it in the neck, making a clean slash as she outed the blade. She swallowed back the vomit and focused on covering the dwarf.
………..
The knight falling down due to blood loss, High Commander Kraus found himself too outskilled to hold his ground. A parry, a block, a too close sidestep, a too far stab and he put himself out to dry. High Knight Pozos honoured his reputation and went in for the kill. His sword stabbing against the chestplate, it slided a bit and penetrated on the left side, perforating a lung.
Extracting his sword with practised movements, he dived again. Before he could finish the kill, a man jumped from the opening of the tent, across it and stabbed Pozos, who had been too preoccupied to notice his silent fly.
Void skewering Pozos from side to side, both Noct and Pozos fell to the ground. After a few seconds of silence Noct rose up again and spat, while pulling out his longsword,
“So I would never win, huh?” His words were but forced sounds between ragged breaths, he had yet to fix his chestplate.
“Re, regent Noct?” Asked Kraus, confused.
“Do not mind my words.” Looking at Maliz, he kneeled and followed with, “I have come to the aid of my Liege.”
Gulping down, as the sight of a blood drenched Noct with half the helmet broken and a black armour that could very well pass for scrap was something, she nodded.
“The…..the situation on the battlefield?” Kraus said between red coughs. Noct walked over and started healing him.
“Well, we were able to get in.” Noct held up a cough.
“Those, those are good news indeed. Do you have any more of those?”
“Not that I know of. We got in, but that doesn’t mean we can get out. My men are too tired and too few to be of significance.”
Anxiety taking hold of Kraus, he pleaded, “I am sure someone of your calibre has a few aces in your sleeve, right?”
Noct looked towards the opening of the tent, from where the western side of the battlefield could be seen. Andras was clearly distinguishable as his sword shone like a small sun. Still, he was not enough, and the line seemed too close to the breaking point, even with their reinforcements.
Movement in the far forest made him squint his eyes and fury invaded his voice.
“Well, the Gods have proven me wrong yet again. You are right. An ace I didn’t know I had is playing itself, isn’t it simply fantastic.”
……………..