The Amber Sword - v5c29p2




Carglise took a good look at the composed Brendel, scuffled his chin as he offered himself an answer, “Hmm, right he does seem like one,” Regardless, with over two hundred in a Magician squad offering enhancement spells, it was more than enough to envelope the entire army into its protection. As layer after layer stacked upon the White Lion Battalion, the scenes were indeed quite spectacular for the beholders.

“The Lord Commander’s insistence does seem justified now,” Youla took a final glimpse towards the opposite side of the riverbank, before pulling down her metal mouthpiece, under the chilly weather of autumn she spoke, as the air began to puff with every breath.

Forn from a close distance shook his head from uncertainty. He then drew his longsword and began marching forward with his subordinates. He was visibly apprehensive.

Gathering the mages was not a completely unprecedented move, but its effects were always deemed inefficient, as the enemies would naturally break the formation apart to diminish the effects of the spell. 

And even if they could obliterate a couple of enemy divisions, once the concentrated magician squad got hit, the cost of damage and demise of the valuable mages far outweigh the benefits. It was in nearly all cases hardly worth its expense, and hence with the sands of time the practice became obsolete, and ultimately left in the past. 

But why would the Lord Commander want to bring it back?!

Brendel noticed the hesitation on Carglise’s face and knew exactly what he was concerned about, “You must be wondering about the mages aren’t you, Carglise,” He took to asking.

The mentioned hastily removed his metal mouthpiece, even though it was not too professional, he could guess that Brendel had already noticed his cheeky smile under the helmet as he stutteringly replied, “Milord, the Battle Tactics Handbook says…”

“C’mon now Carglise. You’re not an academic yourself, so you can keep the part about the Battle Tactics Handbook to yourself. Instead, tell me more about what you think,” Brendel was frank. 

“Milord, I genuinely have no answer to your inquiry sir,” Carglise shook his head. He was no mage, how would he know how a mage functioned. What he knew were from hearsay that the mages were all celestial beings with near-infinite power, but were proven time and time again that these were no more than senseless rumors, “But Princess Medissa she…”

Brendel’s loathed the Aouine’s archaic Battle Tactics Handbook, but at that moment he did agree with Medissa’s opinion. 

It was true that the War of the Holy Saints could arguably be the war with the largest scale since the Destruction of Ebabel Fort, as in that war there were Frost Knights, the Royal Dragon Cavalry, The Battalion of the Dusk Song of the Miirna people and the Silver Elves Princess Guards. The battle was one so grand in scale it would live on in everlasting poems.

But in that war, there just weren’t any mages.

The history of the mages began with Tuman. 

Tuman handed down the magic to the Silver people, and from him, Vaunte had its first generation of mages. Nevertheless, it was not until the pinnacle of the Bucce Kingdom did the history of mages truly began to flourish in this world.

These Thieves of Laws were just a niche during the War of the Holy Saints, unrefined and minuscule like that of a chick newly hatched from its egg. In a battle of power layers, all they could do was watch.

The historical event where mages truly began to intertwine with the history of war will have to be traced even further, to the Relinquishment of the Covenant of the Gods, which directly led to the detachment of the Bucce people from the rest of the world.

The Silver Elves retreated into the deep ravines as the era of mortals approached. And many, many years later of today, the Laws of war had thoroughly and fundamentally changed.

What is a mage?

People like to think mages were a force to shape the tides of battle, that with their numerous and fascinating spells could bring about unexpected changes to the fields of battle. They could transform the most hardened of earth into moldable clay, the driest of droughts could be countered with a sudden downpour, the lush, green forest could be swallowed whole by an inferno. 

They could build fortresses and trenches from within thin air, they could offer comrades endless support and defense. But what they all selectively neglect was a crucial trait of mages.

The power of a massacre.

“Mages represent firepower,” Brendel replied to Carglise as they both sat upon on their mounts, “It is a power that could dominate the battlefield.”

This description was similar to the last, despite the fact that Carglise could not fathom what ‘firepower’ could have meant, yet nevertheless, with the remark he could more or less piece together what his Count was saying. 

Nevertheless, he promptly brushed it off and persistently went ahead to justify his opinion, “The powers of a mage are limited, Milord, but our enemies, they’re undead. Commander Veronica mentioned once didn’t she, that the Mages’ precious spells consumed upon enemies that are spread wide apart are a huge waste.”

This would be a genuine issue beyond the era of the War of the Great Demonic Wave, that was to happen far later on. Crucially, it had yet to happen. Hence, with the Magician Squad that he had with him today, it was more than enough to handle the skeletons on the other side of the riverbank.

Brendel many a times would recall the events of the Battle of Slanted Forest, thinking about the miracle that came with the mages. He chuckled thinking about how this ‘miracle’ was about to rain down of the Madaran skeletons once again.

Trentheim mage disciples had trained over tens of thousands of times for the battle they were in today, despite not knowing what they were about to bring to the table. It was only upon the luminescence of the light shield were they truly bewildered.

Both armies were now within the final hundred and fifty yards from one another. 

Aouine soldiers then began to sound the horns with short intervals, hinting the White Lion Battalion to accelerate, albeit in the most orderly fashion as expected of the elite squad. The officers that were previously on horseback had now dismounted their warhorses, raised their prized swords, and promptly joined the fray of their subordinates to lead the charge. 

At that moment, Brendel’s gaze was gleaming with hope as he scanned across the Madaran army’s snaking legion. The boneheads actually did spread out, I expect no less from the Royal dispatch of the Seas of the Dying Moon.

Within a hundred yards, Count Visgard’s Necromancers began to imbue strengthening spells on their Spider Swordsmen, more specifically their commanders, with the prospect of bearing the magic attacks from their adversaries. After all, the Undead would never break formation. They could not. 

“Their speed is far beyond what we’d expected of them,” Count Visgard announced to his subordinates, “This army looks beyond the ordinary.”

White Lion Battalion and their striking Lionmane pauldrons began revealing themselves in the field of vision of their adversaries. And under the spell booster, the Trentheim infantry that only possessed the speed of a peak Black Dwarf was now moving at the speed of accelerating light cavalry. 

Visgard clenched his teeth, aware that the army before him was not a defensive infantry of any sort, it was the counterpart of his spider swordsmen and were evidently an offensive-based infantry through and through. 

“What are they like?” He turned back with a question. 

“They appear just like the White Lion Legion from the myths,” A Black Knight replied in a dull, haunting voice. 

“No, that’s not it,” Count Visgard shook his head in disapproval, “It cannot be.”

He was rather disappointed to find out he was out of any vacant skeleton archers, otherwise, he would have sent them out to test the capabilities of his charging adversaries within arms reach. Nevertheless, it would concern little as the Royal dispatch from the Seas of the Dying Moon was personally selected by the Supreme Emperor himself, fittingly classified as the most adept of Undead soldiers and commanders. Regardless of who stood in their way, there would only be one outcome, and that was destruction.

He raised a sign to order the raising of battle flags from the Black Knights, to send the message to the Necromancers in the army to stretch their formations. With the wide terrain by the riverbank, it would be more advantageous to their superior military size.

Just then, there was a flash across the rain-drenched sky. 

Here they come.

Count Jacques thought. 

Count Jacques on the peak of the mountain watched as nearly a hundred streaks of golden glimmer flashed across the drizzling rain, like blades of molten steel they intersected and vanished as the cycle continued, mesmerizing like the fireworks set off during the Winter Festival.

Everyone was so astonished, thoughts could not realize in words. 

“Magicians!” Someone took to yelling, “The Trentheims brought so many of them!” The Count turned back to his men, watching as the Viero Nobles shared glances.

How did they use magicians? Is the Count of Trentheim flushed with cash?!

It was the burning thought on everyone’s minds that none of them had an answer to. 

The fireballs landed like rain on the riverbanks, and what came after was supernatural, to say the least. The mushy sand and mud appeared to be imbued with life energy as they began having minds of their own. As the scene gradually unfolded, it was like doomsday was near. 

Even the White Lion Battalion officers were completely stupefied by what they were witnessing. The first line of Count Visgard’s armies was thoroughly bombarded by the rain of fireballs, and the initially loosely arranged skeleton swordsmen were now scantily arranged as they appeared before the White Lion Battalion.

Right at that moment, a certain thought flashed across Freya’s head. She seemed to realize a certain something.

The same was to be said of Count Visgard on the opposite lines.

The round of shelling did not destroy his army. The truth was, the damage dealt to him was fairly limited, there was some destruction done but compared to the energy expenditure from the opposing mages, it was comparatively mild. What he was concerned about was that after the round of bombardment, there was now a White Lion Battalion squad before his rugged army.

He was originally convinced that they were just common infantry, there was no possible way for them to enter the frontline radius in time, but their speed was truly shocking, far beyond any expectations!

This is no infantry, this is the damned cavalry without mounts!

This is the historically renowned White Lion Infantry!

“Hurry!” Count Visgard howled, “Send out the follow-ups, don’t let them cut into the formation! Take them down!”

And just then, the second round of magic bombardment came impeccably as planned. 

Brendel’s gaze then landed on Ciel, who, despite letting out a sigh, went abidingly with the order to attack. Under the astonished gazes of the masses, the mages’ spells reached beyond and landed between the first and second lines of Spider Swordsmen formations. At that point, the spot between them was just an empty plot of earth. Count Jacques and the Viero army behind him were confounded. “What the hell are the Trentheimers doing? Have they gone mad, these things cost a fortune!”

Count Jeelin held onto his words as he watched upon countless Phantoms of Terror taking leave from Bloodstaff’s main base into the air and flocked towards the western side of the riverbank. The terrifying creatures swarm the skies as they leave their nests.

“Bloodstaff is sensing the problem,” Count Jacques, too, while witnessing as the event unfolded solemnly remarked, “The two divisions on the south side are done for.”

“What?”

A piercing whistle was heard from just above the riverbank.

The effects of the spell were still far from over but Freya had already had her longsword raised, and under the first command of the war, she yelled. “CHARGE!”