by Kasugamaru
Jashan son Peine... well done. To drag Lady Kuroi from such a horde.
And now hundreds of bodies, hundreds of beasts, ignoring the elves in front of them, are charging toward us in pursuit of Lady Kuroi and the Origis Company. I see the vampires have recognized Lady Kuroi as a clear threat. It’s to be expected given that display of power.
The challenge is accepted. All we will do is fight and protect her.
With holy spear in my right hand and shield in my left hand, I, Felipo Valkie Millennium will not back down, not so much as a step. Behind me are five hundred infantry. I stand here, in the middle point of the center company.
The enemy aggressively swarms towards us. No doubt they’re headed right for us. The time for skirmishes is at an end. We can no longer leave it to the Bomber Knights.
I begin to hear the grunting and groaning from the troops... I hear even the clacking of teeth.
“Companies, halt! Reinforce by squad!” A good voice. Lord Willow’s orders ring clearly even from the right wing.
“We will repulse the forces pursuing the Origis Company here! Left wing, Marius Company, select the appropriate platoons as skirmishers! Use them to drive the enemy to the center, narrow the battlefield!”
“Understood, sir!” I wonder if he’s ordinarily taciturn to save his roar for the battlefield.
How strong. How dependable.
“Mage Company! Prepare for successive fire and get ready!”
“Yep! Lads, we’ll use the new wands! Prep them with your magic!” Odysson’s voice is quite impressive, too. Worthy of trust. Even when peppering his words with odd phrases in daily conversation, desperation brings out the steel in a man’s heart. He’s another hero worthy of praise next to Lord Willow. Bringing the once forbidden art of flame magic back into the world is an overwhelming contribution to humanity.
“Infantry companies! Prepare for full defensive combat! The enemy’s getting through to us!” A harsh voice. The voice of one shouldering scores of lives. And no doubt they’re right. There’s many enemies chasing the Origis Company. No matter how the cavalry moves, there’s no way they can intercept every last one of them.
“A’ight! Rear rank, volunteers! This is the time to spend your lives! Grit your teeth!” Captain Zakkow’s voice with the gravelly weight of one who clawed their way up the ranks. A harshness that drives them onward. No surprise. They’re about to face the supernatural without the benefit of being on horseback. They need to then hold their ground.
“What’s with the holy father? Front rank! We can’t hear you!” My voice, huh? Give me a moment, I’m preparing myself.
After all, the voice is the very first magic. Sending thoughts and emotions from person to person and directly influencing their hearts. It’s one of the most important things that a person can do to another.
Oh voice, take upon thy magic. Thy strength as magic. Become and secure thy place as human magic. And if thou art magic, then become fire. A fire that possesses the magic of the voice. Provide the spark upon my words, my truth, to become the magic of flame allowed only to humanity, and light a fire within their hearts. Give us hearts of flame.
This, today, should be in my power. I calm my jangling soul, and squeeze out only my strength. Letting flow my magic, I speak as though I breathe fire.
“Oh, brave souls! Oh, host of brave, strong souls who show courage upon this battlefield! You courageous souls!” Ring out, my voice. Cry out, my words.
“We are a band of able warriors! Audacious souls challenging fate with sharp blades in hand! Ones who protect the righteous to our back and strike down evil! We are those possessed by the flame!” Reach them, oh strong words. The great meanings. The pleasant ring.
“Stand upon this ground! A powerful, immovable mountain! Line up upon this earth! An unshakable resolve!” Oh God. I can see the flames. The invisible flames spark in my soul, swallowing the troops around me. Lighting their hearts, flaring, and feeding a greater flame.
“Now is the time! We move forward! For the victory of mankind!” The response is a heated, almost rabid roar of truth.
Deus Ex. Deus Ex. Deus Ex.
The expression of hope that it will be so. The repetition of that wish. Spreading like a roar.
The militia formed of settlers, the hired mercenaries and adventurers, the chosen flame mages, the soldiers from the New Golden Lands, they roar in unison. The Bomber Knights are still holding onto their discipline, but I can feel their heated commitment. If this were a spell, perhaps I would call it fire magic, Burning Battle. It seems the fear and doubt have burnt to ash, morale climbing into the heavens. It’s pretentious of me to try to control and wield this sort of intensity.
“All troops, attention to orders! Prepare arms! The enemy approaches!” Lord Willow calls out. There’s not a hint of disruption to the commands.
“Mage Company! Three blasts in succession! Reaaaady!” It’s time for us infantry to get to work. We hold up our shields. We ready our spears.
“Fire!” Now all there is to do is fight.
-Dragon Warrior Fleilyu IV-
What is that? Just what is happening?
Magical flames that arc high above the battlefield, then rain down, setting fire to the land. The fire magic of the humans... As though they are flame dragons. The evil dragons that served as the Demon King’s familiar in the old legends, the ones who feared no one, not even the gods.
The bloodsuckers go up in flames, leaving ash in their wake. There is not a shadow of the resistance they put up against the magic of us elves, erupting in flames as though they are mere kindling. Flames that had burned even the elves now revert to their true role.
Shadows that lurk over the burning fields. Black wolves. The vampires who managed to avoid the flames also rush forward. That aggression is their true nature. The bestial rage that throws the continent into chaos. Something that all elves loathe and fear in equal measure.
The mounted warriors swiftly move in to intercept. This I should have known. This I should have understood. I had witnessed the urban battle in pitch darkness. But this goes so far beyond that... to use magic as well. They are the equals of elven and vampiric warriors.
And what drives them? A morale that burns so brightly it could engulf a forest.
Were infantry not mere fodder, a wasteful use of flesh and souls? How do they fight so fiercely? To resist even as they’re flattened by black wolves, torn apart by the blood-suckers... could even elven warriors perform such a feat?
A people that wield fire, ride upon horses, and fight as though they are flames.
So these are humans.
This is humanity.
A people with a history comparable to the elves. Now possessing the blessing of a god. This is what they’ve become.
That is what this is. There is no doubt. I know humanity’s Apostle. The raven-haired warrioress that spells inevitability. The incredible threat that cuts through elf and vampire alike without distinction.
Kuroi... Kuroi, the Apostle of Humanity.
She is powerful. Very powerful. The vampires stood no chance against her. The sight of her creating infinite weapons, slaying her enemies with blades and reducing them to ash with flames was like a firestorm of swords. She drew on her quarry and utterly destroyed them without mercy.
To use summoning magic for melee combat... From the elven way of battle, it is a concept impossible to fathom, much less execute. Indeed, it is closer to the vampiric way of battle. Like the Three Apostles of the Vampires that continually trouble the Three Apostles of the Elves... For they hold in common the summoning of magic weaponry in battle.
“Fleilyu, are you here, Fleilyu?”
“Y-Yes, I am here, Lady Sakiel.” Shameful. I lost myself in surprise. Such is the sight before me.
“A runner to the human army... Instruct them to come hither! My magic cannot protect them from this distance!”
“Respectfully, they appear to have the advantage. Perhaps you need not direct them...” To
bring that army closer, that is a risk.
It appears Kuroi has returned to the host to rest, so we should hold some distance from them. The others are still confused.
“Fool! The sky, turn your gaze skyward!” The sky. It’s painted in the color of the setting sun and red... No, stained red and black. A thick, curdling black cloud engulfs the entire sky. Just when did...? No, it’s growing as we speak.
“It’s her! She’s summoned a thunder cloud!” Her. Yes, Golden. The ruler of the evil earth, the Golden, has started moving.
“Hurry! Tell the humans... Oh! It approaches.” The clouds let out a menacing growl, twisting around before the light and impacts follow. One after another. Over and over. No one can do anything but close their eyes and brace themselves against the onslaught. An overwhelmingly violent display of lightning magic.
Yet, no harm comes to our ranks. For above us float countless Jellyfish Bells and Sunfish Gongs. Slowly, almost casually. Despite being subjected to such lightning, they absorb it without so much as letting through the faintest shock. A divine and towering art wielded by the Bell. The wondrous ability of Lady Sakiel.
The humans... they could not stand. The cavalry, the infantry, the mages. They mattered not. There is power that no equipment in creation can stop. Such is the lightning wielded through the Golden’s summoning magic.
But it’s an indiscriminate attack. The humans suffer enormous losses, but the vampires attacking them are a wreck as well. No matter the power, if it can only create barbarous, destructive results, it is only worthy of scorn, not admiration.
Here the thousand pebbles, the core of their host, begin to move. They stand as always with the Golden. If we can handle them properly, we can win this battle.
“F-Fleilyu...!” Lady Sakiel. If this is her first field battle, I can fully grasp the feelings that trouble her.
“I give to you my command as Dragon Commander.” Lady... Sakiel?
“Help the human army. Save their wounded. Then retreat. I shall cover the retreat. Stay silent, this is my command. I shall Do My Best and force a stalemate!”
32 The Knight Moves, Quickly, Sharply/The Youngest Son Commands, Cunningly and Wisely
God, are you there?
Oh, my God... Why can I not move?
-Knight Agias VI-
A ringing that brings a headache, a smell that offends the nose. My limbs go numb, and I feel a dull pain throughout my body. I blink away the purple after-image and witness horror unfolding before me. Hundreds of soldiers are collapsed upon the field, with destruction leaving gnarled claw marks in the ground. Everyone is in shock. Groans echo through the ground.
So this is the power of a vampire Apostle. This is the destructive force that they serve. It’s got enormous power... but it’s excessive and artless. I catch glimpses of arrogance within. How little care goes into it.
The great elven magic I saw in the air that day in the dying light of the settlement’s sky... The musical thought process that went into a work both painstakingly precise and mesmerizingly grand in scale... it’s not even worth comparing. The lightning may injure and numb, but it’s nothing like the impact that hits at the very soul.
This is just brute force. To control violence that roams unchecked, that is why I have studied the art of war and trained in the martial arts. A great spell relying on mere brute force has nothing that can break the heart of Agias Willow.
“All troops! Form squares! Wounded to the center!” So far as I can see, our army is decimated. The losses among the militia and settler volunteers are particularly high. It might be that those wielding pikes were most susceptible to lightning, based on how it falls. The standard-bearers are all down, and even Father Felipo looks unsteady on his feet.
Our remaining forces are about... one thousand and a few hundred. The largest remaining force is the four hundred troopers of the Marius Company. They got lucky due to the fact that they were spread out to support the Origis Company.
Next are the Origis Company and Mage Company with two hundred some-odd each, but it’s probably better to have them fall back. There’s too many that can’t even stand. Might be from their use of magic. It’s possible. This wasn’t natural lightning, but a magical spell.
My company... Mmh, no need for roll call, they’re all here. Whatever the attack, they’re meaningless if they can’t hit. The fruits of Lady Kuroi’s instruction.
Said Lady Kuroi... is mounted but unmoving. The mud and blood plastered on her raven hair keep it from so much as swaying. I can’t see any movement from her spirit. A glance at the damage to her military cloak shows just how intense her charge was.
There’s something off with her. As though she’s unaware of her surroundings. The swords drop from her drooping hands, vanishing before they hit the ground.
This is... the turning point.
“All troops, prepare to retreat! Origis, command the retreat! Marius Company will cover the retreat as skirmishers against the enemy! Begin retreat!” My brothers. My comrades. I leave Lady Kuroi in your care.
The girl is hope itself. She’s a distant hope, one that’s still far from fruition. We seek, we pray, and we sacrifice for that hope. But because we cannot help but do so, we are also desperate for results. Otherwise we die.
But the battle doesn’t end today. No doubt the future holds both victories and defeats. Over and over. That’s to be expected. We are planning to overturn the natural order in this world of despair. We can’t always win, and we can’t change things with a single victory. The world isn’t that simple. We can only overturn the natural order by continuously, tenaciously fighting against it. Which is why with that understanding... we harden our hearts.
“All troops! Draw blades!” The wastelands purified by fire fill with new threats. Vampires and black wolves. Both are enemies of humanity itself that feed upon us. They open their maws, as though to consume our hope as they consumed many of our comrades.
And so we ride out to meet them. We charge forth. There’s no need for formations or tactics. These two hundred are the chosen few. All of them have seen battlefields without number. We’ve all endured the rigors of additional training; all of us, together.
We handle our mounts as though they’re part of us, forming a single, powerful warrior. Black wolf packs, mere beasts seeking blood, are nothing to us. We cut them aside without so much as a ripple through our formation. Hands other than mine are responsible for actually cutting aside the wolves. But I can feel the slash against my palm. As though we’re a single entity. As though we share a single soul.
Rocks are thrown from all sides. No need for defense. We can avoid them simply with our speed. We avoid the stones from ahead with the smallest necessary motion. It’s just a direct attack. Not a single trooper falls victim. Then we cut into our enemies, giving them no time to pick up their blunt weapons. Several troopers slash a single target in quick succession.
Ah, a hundred vampires before us. They have an air of strength to them. Seems they plan to slow us down, huddled together into packs. No need to hit them straight on. We split into two groups. I lead the left-hand group, and I think, without so much as reaching for my lance. One or two fire bombs will suffice. As for the timing... Not yet... Not yet... Now!
Explosions. Two in total, one each for the ones thrown from left and right. And I’m already directing my mount to the next target. The right-hand group does likewise.
We pin the enemy thrown into confusion by our Exploding Flame, and charge in as though passing one another. We easily break through, and split the two groups of a hundred into four groups of fifty. Each group begins enveloping and destroying their quarry. We quickly hack through the enemy.
A few steps in front of me. What seems like a commander, shouting orders. It begins gathering magic on its palm.
Burning Sweep. I take him down and the one next to him, killing two at once.
The field, the domain of the mounted warrior. Vampires are nothing to fear for us.
The
two hundred reconverge, becoming one body again. There. The next target. An enemy unit. We leave the scattered enemies to Marius. We, instead, seek gathered groups of enemies. Taking down threats one by one.
While we’re still armed. While our mounts can run.
We’re coming for you. Taste our vengeance.
-Marius II-
Agias is like a meteor. His precisely refined motions are like paths of light.
“Individual platoons may attack at their discretion! Take care to stop each and every enemy that steps toward you.” I can’t yet move like he does. Nor can Origis.
Since the core of our army are the cavalry, that’s the cutting edge. They’re the company that is deployed at the crucial turning point, where they must win, and return without a scratch. The company’s not allowed to even have wounds.
“Move the wounded into the protection of the host! Don’t overextend yourselves!” On the other end, the troops who have experienced battle against the vampires have formed squares and are retreating. They, too, are precious. They hold the key to future battles.
“Weapons free! Use as much ammunition and lances as you need! Resupply at the host!” My role is to manage the battlefield so both groups can properly retreat. Keep the possibility of sacrificing some of my own to get them away... Ah, need to take care of that one.
“Ten of you, with me! We’ll take the one trying to flank!” A quick glance to Lady Kuroi.
It’s almost heartrending. The flames that burned red deep in her eyes are all askew, as though disconnected from any movement... but that’s just sentimentality.
“We’ll cut through the left! Concentrate!” People have spirits. Each spirit has a color, and there’s endless shades of them. The brighter, the richer, the more they move people. To greater heights of joy. To lower depths of pain.
“Go!” Lady Kuroi’s spirit is the deep color of rage. At least, that’s how she probably thinks of herself... but I think that’s not true. Her current state is proof of that.