Capítulo 43: Swords Down
Within the great forest of Rosalia, a hundred knights travel.
Each one was heavily armoured in plate mail, bringing with them a spear and sword, inscribed in runes copied from the valuable human artifacts.
An explosion erupts and their horses panic, A soldier shouts "Sir!", pointing at a rising smoke.
Grant squints his eyes in suspicion, as he wonders the reason for it, 'Perhaps the desperation has led to infighting' he reasons to himself.
Grant shouts to the men around him as he ordered his horse forward, "Make sure to take back anyone that surrenders."
"Yes, Sir!" They shout in unison, before galloping towards the smoke, following their commander.
Grant weaves his horse through the tree roots, continuously on edge, afraid for any trap, till his thought was interrupted by his lieutenant.
"Sir, was it really alright for us to leave Bishop Orvin back at the camp, with a few soldiers?" He spoke in hesitation.
Before Grant could reply a smug voice interrupts him, "Oh, please. Like we'll need his help in taking care of a few retreating soldiers."
Grant shouts as he looked in front, "ENOUGH!" The two were silenced before Grant continues, "Focus on riding, these woods remain treacherous."
The two of them nod as their battalion runs for a few minutes, the smoke inches closer and closer, till they see the sight of someone floating, swords dancing at his side.
Grant raises his arm, ordering them to a halt, the loud neighs and clinking of armour resound from their position.
He looks up as he inspects the man closer, trying to discern his threat. Unfortunately, all he could notice was his prominent Dark hair and eyes, along with some unusual clothing.
"Sir, should we retreat? I believe controlling that many swords aren't something a normal mage could do." His lieutenant spoke behind him as Grant ponders on the question.
"It's fine, isn't it? it's most likely a mere half-demon playing with fire." His second lieutenant spoke, as he considers his options.
He grins maniacally, "And we didn't really get much action, since the Bishop took almost all the kills."
"But-" His first lieutenant tries to reason back before Grant raises his closed fist, silencing them both.
He ponders for a few minutes before speaking, "We fight, I don't know what's happening but with a spectacle like that is sure to distract them, they'll get caught unprepared."
He rides his horse forward as he orders his men, his spear pointed at the clearing, "CHARGE!"
"CHARGE!" The men respond with their shout before it was drowned by the horse's thunderous hooves.
They come into the clearing, coming into contact with what seemed to be reinvigorated soldiers, an explosion erupts behind them as they see the floating mage aiming at their western rear.
Grant shouts to his two soldiers, "Both of you follow me, we take down that mage before he does any more damage."
The two men nod, closing their helmets, as they spur on their horses ready to mow down the soldiers standing in front of them.
The three men head the charge, with the intention of going through the army of men standing between them and their target.
Behind them ran the line of Rosalian Royal knights, an imposing sight for anyone to see, for it stands to be one of the continent's deadliest contingent of men.
Grant shouts an order as he raises his spear, "RAISE YOUR SPEARS AND FIRE!"
They summon fireballs before they smash it to the line of infantry. A strategy often used to soften the men before they mow them down through their raised spears.
Unfortunately for them, their enemies burst out from the flames with unquenchable rage. Their clothes singed at the sides as they dash to them with a blinding light.
Their charge stops as each man was unhorsed with an unnatural strength. Some horses were beheaded and their corpses stall their charge.
Shocked by this, Grant orders another barrage of flames. It smashes at their lines, injuring some of their forces.
Grant looks in shock as their burnt skin stitch itself back, he looks to his lieutenants, both of which was struggling to escape the mess of steel and blood.
He throws his spear before takes a swipe with his sword, it gets parried off. He tries to summon a fireball before a slash reaches his arms.
He holds his bleeding arm as he looks around, noticing the incoming charge was about to slam to their own ranks.
He looks at the men as he shouted, "Retreat!" His words were followed by an explosion, as a sea of flame drowns his western flank.
His men both confused and shocked at the unbreakable wall of steel, follows his orders. They retreat in the most orderly way they could, outrunning the enemy army with their horses.
Grant leads them as they steer through the eastern side of the clearing, as he reaches cover he looks behind him as he shouts, "Fire at them, don't let them foll-"
His words die at his throat as he flies from his horse, head first. He spins around a few times in the air as his horse gets stuck and run over by his lieutenants, who was unhorsed by the overgrown roots protruding from the ground.
It started a cascading effect, as each knight fell, more blocks stood against retreat. Before he knew it Grant looks around in confusion, his head in pain and in disarray.
He looks around as he shouts, failing to stand up from a mess of confusion and headache, "Prepare for battle!"
The men take out their swords, ready to fight as they prepare their magic against the oncoming tide of soldiers, all maniacally grinning at their pained groans and grunts.
They launch barrage after barrage, aiming at the soldiers dashing towards them. Those who remain horsed and unscathed launch a charge, hoping to sow chaos.
Only for them to fail, their horse beheaded before getting stabbed in their throat. Grant looks to his remaining as he shouts, "Gather to me! Enter Circle formation!"
His remaining fifty men rush to his position, as they launch barrage after barrage of fireballs, hoping to delay them long enough to make a stand.
Their enemies dash around them, encircling them, as every soldier watches them with a predatory smile. Before they can react they dash in, a mass of quick thrusts and slashes pushes them back.
Grant looks up, to see some of them jumping towards the circle, he launches a barrage of air and fire, hoping to keep them away, unfortunately for him, he never noticed the one behind him.
A man stabs his shoulder before he screams out, his second lieutenant defends him and the enemy backs off.
But with his attention taken, he never noticed the five men successfully jumping into his circle, stabbing a hole through his defences, leaving him with twenty men.
Grant spits out blood, his chest burning in fatigue along with the punishment his body had to go through. He shouts, his dignity crushed, "WE SURRENDER!"
The following cheers and laughter was the only thing that could have made this defeat worse.
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