Chapter 13: The Battle of Liberec
Excerpt from "The Battle that Changed the World"
By A. Comnenus
One hundred and twenty years before the battle of Liberec the first professional armies were created. The Kingdom of Allemania created a professional army as it clashed with the feudal Teutonic Order, the result being the Teutons' defeat. The fleeing Teutons accidentally ran into draconic territory, were surrounded, and the commander pleaded with the new draconic tribal leader, Steel Fang. He pledged that if Steel Fang and his comrades defeated the hated Allemanians, the Teutons would forever serve the draconic tribe. Steel Fang had just killed the prior chieftain, and eager to show the tribe he could improve their lives, made the unprecedented decision to accept this oath. The Allemanians were quickly defeated and world politics suffered a shock.
When a neighboring state came under attack by the growing, massive Bengali Empire, Steel Fang came to their aid with both dragons and Teutonic soldiers. The Bengalis were forced to sue for peace within weeks. In retribution Sultan Karim III created an alliance of states to safeguard himself against another draconic attack. These fourteen states called themselves the Alliance of Nations, and they soon started the Global War with an all-out attack upon the Osakan Empire. The Grand Alliance was formed to counter this, and within a few weeks there was unprecedented world war.
Steel Fang's tribe entered the war two years later, the dragons nearly forcing the Alliance of Nations to the peace table that very year. If not for the creation of Yoma, few historians doubt that this would have happened. A year later the first Awakened Beings saw action and their unmatched effectiveness convinced Steel Fang's enemies to keep going. Tactics used against a Smok in the field were fairly simple. If one had 'special half-man, half-Yoma warriors, you unleashed them against the dragon. If not, then the army would usually beat a hasty retreat, as it was extremely difficult to kill a Smok with conventional means.
That would change 80 years later when Captain Antoni Poniatowski's battery of field guns became the first human force to take down a Smok without horrific casualties. Silver-eyed slayers and numerous identical twins called "Special Warriors" further evened the gruesome odds, but nonetheless the tribe still had the edge. This would change when Katarzyna Romanowa figured out a Smok's greatest weakness: its huge appetite. She used massed cavalry and slayer raids to disrupt and cut lines of communication and supply, and was also the first commander in history to use over 100 slayers in a concentrated attack. This in turn forced the draconic tribe to concentrate their numbers and only exacerbated their supply line problems.
The Grand Alliance was determined to take down the new empress, a woman they despised and referred to her as "the usurping whore" even in official documents. This vitriol was almost entirely due to Romanowa's string of devastating victories against them and her usurpation of established monarchical families. Katarzyna was different from any monarch they'd faced before in that she was a self-made woman. To destroy her, the Grand Alliance sent a million-man army accompanied by 1,000 Smokowcy, a full one-twentieth of the entire tribe. To solve their supply problems, 150,000 Allemanian slaves were employed to build enormous cobblestone highways. As a result they made great progress, and the enormous army was soon within sight of Praha's outskirts.
Waiting for them was a 600,000-man army backed by 3500 slayers and surprisingly headed by Empress Katarzyna herself, who had managed to dodge a Grand Alliance assassination attempt. Twenty kilometers south of Praha, the stage was set for the greatest battle in history …
Alevtina wanted to punch something rather badly, such was the frustration she was feeling. She was stuck in an opulent, gold-adorned palace suite full of ridiculously expensive things, which ordinarily she would have enjoyed. Only she was stuck inside this opulent prison with a person that could not accept who they were.
Dietrich stomped her foot on a massive white canopy bed Alevtina had seated herself before.
"This is intolerable, I am a princess, and this," Dietrich said of her dull gray Organization outfit, "is not acceptable clothing for a princess!"
Alevtina wanted to tear her pixie-style hair out, "For the last damn time, you soul-linked with Princess Kasia Romanowa. Those memories you had were not your own!"
Dietrich stretched to her puny height atop the bed, "You know full well what happened, Alevtina, you screwed up and we switched bodies!"
"I severely doubt that," Alevtina sighed.
"How can you doubt that?"
Alevtina said the obvious, "Because you remembered my name, and I've never met the princess before. Only the real Dietrich would know who I am, and you do know who I am."
Dietrich stammered, "Well… you're just trying to fool me, aren't you?"
Alevtina covered her eyes when a knock came on the door, "I'll be back soon enough. I would suggest you read your diary from when you first came here."
Delusional Dietrich snapped, "Get me out of this scrawny, small-breasted, freckle-faced girl's body this instant! I want my long legs, bigger bust and good looks back! And another thing, quit calling me Dietrich; my name's Kasia!"
Alevtina sighed, "I wouldn't diss your body; you'll only regret it later."
Before Dietrich could mount yet another hysterical rant, Alevtina walked out of the room and closed the doors. Facing her was a heavily-built slayer with a modest amount of brown-blond facial hair and a prominent scar down the right side of his face. Whatever had done it had luckily missed his eye, or perhaps, Alvetina realized on second thought, he had simply healed the wound. After all, his eyes were the piercing silver of a veteran male slayer.
Alevtina nodded, "Wenceslaus, I'm happy to see you stopped by."
Wenceslaus made an impressive sight in his armor, which consisted of a steel cuirass, gauntlets, pauldrons, tassets, greaves, steel boots and a plain steel helmet in one arm. Clutched in his opposite hand was an enormous double-bladed battle axe. By the looks of its shine, it was made from pure duratium. His muscular, tall stature only made him more impressive in person.
Wenceslaus glanced in the direction of Dietrich's muffled ranting, "Any luck?"
Alevtina frowned, "What do you think?"
Wenceslaus remarked, "Well, I'm surprised she's still so deluded a full week after you woke her up. Crown Princess Rima says her sister shows no sign of any mental issues."
Alevtina turned towards the door, as Dietrich was banging on it in protest, muttering something about how she was going to get the service deserving her stature of else.
"That's completely understandable given the way Dietrich fell into Princess Kasia's subconscious memories during the Soul-link. As near as I can tell, she was literally living through the princess' memories for three weeks before she woke up."
Wenceslaus commented, "But Dietrich's saying things that would have taken her years to get to know. She knows about events only a Romanow would remember. Surely in just three weeks—"
"It's entirely possible," Alevtina replied. "Soul-link does that to people; you experience time more slowly when two souls are linked. You take on some of their emotions and memories, especially the longer you maintain it. It's why the identical twin special warriors were so susceptible to losing their sense of self. Since Dietrich linked with an unconscious person, she could have experienced that memory and emotional transfer on a far greater level."
Wenceslaus asked, "Will she ever recover her old self?"
Alevtina scratched the back of her head, "Sir, I was asking Dietrich about the memories, and as near as I can tell she's experienced not one but eight years of living the life of Kasia Romanowa."
There was a silence for a moment from Wenceslaus as he took this in.
"Are you sure it was years—"
"Yes, it was years," Alevtina huffed, "she's been living every day of Kasia Romanowa's life for nearly a decade. She doesn't remember being Dietrich Tuluzy, and until she does, our friend will be stuck in this delusional state for the rest of her life."
Wenceslaus was left with a guilty look upon his face as he looked past Alevtina towards the palatial bedroom door Dietrich was pounding on.
"It's not your fault," Alevtina reassured while clasping his hand.
"I'm not so sure, but let's move on. I've got a battle to prepare for, and by the sounds of it we've got our backs up against the wall," Wenceslaus remarked. "We're facing 800,000 men and 1000 Dragonkin with a mere 3500 slayers and 600,000 men."
"Sun Tzu once said if you feared losing, you've already lost half the battle, Alevtina reprimanded him.
"Sun Tzu never faced Dragonkin in combat," Wenceslaus reminded.
Alevtina shook him, "I know you and the empress have your disagreements, but if she loses your chance to make this a better world disappears. Don't forget your promise."
James was in the Cesarzowa's tent, waiting as her female servants donned her in her ornate, gold-gilded duratium armor. Her back was to him in the plain white tent, only her long, wavy blond hair visible above the armor. One female Silver Guard handed the tall Cesarzowa her helmet, which the empress donned upon her head. A pair of lanterns lit the otherwise dark tent.
Katarzyna turned her tall frame, her eyes taking him in calmly. Very little of her face was visible, as only a t-shaped gap on the helmet's front that showed the tip of her nose and eyes. A massive plume of red feathers capped her helmet, and double-headed imperial eagles adorned her armor's pauldrons, helmet, and cuirass front. A back and gold cape completed the look in magnificent fashion, giving the tall Cesarzowa an impressive presence.
She was walking forward towards the white tent's exit when she stumbled. He caught her just in time; the effects of the assassination attempt were clearly not yet gone.
James asked in concern, "Are you sure you feel well enough to command?"
Katarzyna recovered her poise and stared him in the eyes, "I am, and quit referring to me in the familiar in public, James."
James gulped, "Of course, Cesarzowa."
The empress stood straight again, although nearly a dozen Silver Guards in full armor were within meters to protect and support her. Katarzyna let go of his supporting arm and walked outside. A roar of approval rose up, with cheers, whistles and shouts of devotion creating a cacophony. James emerged from the tent and saw the source: on all sides' army soldiers, some armored and unarmored, pumping their fists or holding torches into the night air.
Holding them back on all sides were flashily-dressed, fully-armored Imperial Guardsmen in double lines on both sides. The Cesarzowa took a moment to hold up a hand acknowledging the men's cheers as she walked forward on the dormant grass of winter. Despite freezing temperatures and some wind, the men seemed to pay it no mind.
The empress strode more confidently forward now, her armor reflecting the torchlight of the enormous crowd gathered to see her. James knew the Cesarzowa had only just recovered enough to get back and assume command two days before. She had quickly prepared the battlefield positions of the army, and morale had skyrocketed upon hearing she had taken over. Battle now appeared imminent for the next morning, so for appearance's sake they desperately needed the Cesarzowa to not show any signs of the weakness brought on by her near-death.
Katarzyna approached and mounted a massive all-black stallion that was more of a draft horse than a warhorse. Even as James mounted his own smaller horse behind her he could barely see over the crush of humanity gathered around. As far as his eye could see in the night were army tents and soldiers gathered in dense crowds. Katarzyna prodded her horse to a high point in the clearing made by the desperate efforts of the Imperial Guard.
"Soldiers of the Imperial Romanow Army," Katarzyna shouted, her voice of surprisingly great volume for a female, "when I first took command, my men were tired, ill-fed, and scarcely paid. We faced hardship, a government that owed much but gave little, and we had no fame in the eyes of the people. In a fortnight I led my first brigade to eight victories, took twelve enemy standards, acquired twenty cannon, and the brigade liberated shoes, food and money enough to pay and equip them many times over."
A hush fell over the cheering men as they began to listen intently to their beloved leader.
"When others let you down, I continued to lead my men to honor, wealth and glory. All I asked of my men was courage and the strength to endure what must be done. Often we found ourselves making forced marches without shoes, encampments without rum, spent days without bread, crossed rivers lacking bridges and defeated Smokowcy without cannon!"
The men were beginning to cheer now; James didn't know where she had learned to inspire, but the empress could be an amazing motivator.
"We made an amazing journey together, you and me, as we both gained fame, glory, and a better future. When we were on the cusp of inflicting a crushing defeat upon the Grand Alliance, the High Command betrayed our own army. They squabbled like the petty, uncaring tyrants they were, so together we overthrew their incompetent and uncaring rule."
James mouth twitched out of view under his helmet; the coup had given him bad memories. He had also forgotten how the Allied Army Command had thrown its weight behind their favorite general in the coup's aftermath.
"In the beginning our struggles were desperate; we were attacked by traitors and the surrounding countryside misguidedly turned on us. Yet, despite the odds against us, your courage prevailed. The three armies which had attacked you with fury fled before you in terror; the dastardly lords who mocked your misery and cheered at the thought of triumphs by your enemies were confused, confounded, and forced to tremble at your feet."
Shouts of "Niech żyje cesarzowa" broke out in the crowd of soldiers. James smiled involuntarily; it meant "long live the empress!"
"I repaid my debts and paid you; I ended the foul institution of slavery, banned the servitude of serfdom, and gave you more freedom and a better future. Yet now that you have such freedoms, the tyrants of the Grand Alliance wish to take it from you," Katarzyna said while making a dramatic gesture with one arm.
A chorus of boos and angry shouting broke out amongst the men.
"Soldiers, I have asked much of you, but you have done little compared with what remains to be done. We face a great enemy on our doorstep, and some tell you this is a crisis. In the Szechwan language the symbol for crisis is also the symbol for opportunity. Without doubt, you have overcome the most fearsome obstacles, but tomorrow there is yet one more great battle to fight. Is there any amongst you whose honor and courage is flagging?"
A thunderous chorus of "no" erupted.
Katarzyna stood up in the saddle, which resulted in James nearly having cardiac arrest from worry as she continued, "I know all of you long to humiliate the arrogant Smok chieftain and those dastardly kings and emperors who have sided with him. They wish to place you in chains like they have their people; who here does not wish to crush their plans?"
The shouts of "Niech żyje cesarzowa" were deafening in response.
"Men, tomorrow, there will be a great battle, the result of which will decide the enemy's fate. In their desperation, they have thrown every reserve they have at us; we have but to crush them to dictate a glorious peace worthy of the immense sacrifices you have all made. Comrades, when all that is required to secure the prosperity and strength of your country is done, the people will greet you with joy as heroes. It will be enough to say to them 'I was at the battle of Liberec for their reply to be, 'here is a hero!'"
The cheering and shouts of approval was truly deafening as the empress stood erect above the saddle, each foot locked into her stirrups, waving at the men. Her doctors had recommended she not do almost anything but rest, and here she was pushing herself towards exhaustion. James found himself swelling with conflicting emotions; he wanted the stop the Cesarzowa from hurting herself and yet swelled in pride at her endurance and courage. If the Grand Alliance thought tomorrow was going to be easy, they would soon find otherwise.
The empress sat back down, acknowledging the cheers as she prodded the horse forward, the Imperial Guard parting the crowds before her. Eventually James saw the familiar figure of Crown Princess Rima waiting near the immense command tent nearby. The empress dismounted and gave Rima a quick hug.
Rima objected, "You know the doctor said you should be in bed."
Katarzyna scoffed, "Tonight has been the best moment of my life, and I would not miss the coming battle when so many are counting upon me. You look a little pale yourself Rima."
"I came to tell you that Duchess laid five eggs," Rima explained.
Katarzyna slung an arm around Rima and walked her into the tent, which was lit by innumerable lanterns, which were both safer than torches and also provided light longer. A large table with an elevation map and toy figures representing troops dominated the tent's center. The Silver Guard took up positions all around the interior as the two Romanows whispered.
Katarzyna gave her orders, "We'll make certain Duchess and her eggs are safe. No female egg by chance?"
"No," Rima whispered back.
James could only hear the discussion because as the deputy officer of the Silver Guard he was expected to be near the imperial family. His beautiful, brown-skinned superior, Katja Tymoshenko, stood behind the two Romanows on the opposite side of the empress.
Rima said something inaudible to Katarzyna, who seemed to be rather affronted, "You have a lot of gall asking me that when you put Duke Djugashvili in charge of the Reserve Army. If you want to talk stupidity, putting a powerful slayer in the position where he can seize the throne in my absence is surely the epitome of foolishness. Consider yourself lucky that our ties as family are too strong for me to have you replaced as my heir."
Rima left trying to look stoic; it didn't fool James. He knew from the depressed way she walked that she was nearly in tears. Rima, as Kasia had once told him, was far better at dishing out criticism and curses than she was at taking them.
James found it almost impossible to sleep during the night but somehow did so anyways. Eventually, after many troubled dreams, woke up, donned his armor, and exited his small tent. The sun's first rays were just beginning to brighten the eastern sky as he stretched and turned back to grab his sword. He noticed the chill air was cold enough to show his warm breath.
"Fine morning, isn't it?"
Scarcely three meters away was Katarzyna, empress of a third the people on the planet. She was wearing her full, ornate armor already but with her massive pointed hat, only a dozen Silver Guards immediately around her. To be fair, she was in the midst of the Silver Guards' tents, many of whom were already forming a defensive perimeter further off. This was a prudent measure given the attempts on the lives of the Romanow Imperial Family.
"Cesarzowa," James said, inclining his head.
Katarzyna walked over and he found himself receiving an appreciative pat on the back.
"No need to be so formal, James," Katarzyna commented, leading his chin up with a white-gloved hand.
James flinched inwardly; she was breaking the very rule she had just set down yesterday about being informal. This had always been a problem since Katarzyna had seized her throne; she was no longer a mere common witch and needed to act as imperial as her title. At least that was what Bastia kept saying. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Cesarzowa had never really been able to entirely act like an arrogant royal towards old friends. She was constantly shifting between the familiar and the informal with him, undoubtedly of two minds, a fact that had infuriated Bastia. However even Bastia knew better than to berate an empress.
The main imperial army camp was several kilometers further back, well away from the hill they were upon, where the army was beginning to form up into battle lines. Between the hill and the main camp was a fog-filled valley. Many kilometers to the right, James observed a sizable town upon a lakeshore that anchored the army's right flank. Out to the left was a wide-open plain, where the imperial army's left flank lay. However the empress wasn't looking towards their forces, as the early light was just beginning to poke through the clouds overhead.
"I can make out the outline of their camp now that the light is better," the Cesarzowa noted. "They've certainly brought quite an army to fight us. Who would have thought two years ago the same half-complacent men and Smokowcy would be capable of so much?"
It was indeed an impressive if chilling sight in James' opinion. The imperial army's camp made an awesome sight, but the Grand Alliance's was yet more impressive. A third larger still, it was dotted with countless men and burning campfires. But trudging through that camp far below was the real might behind the invasion: enormous numbers of massive Dragonkin. A particularly large red-brown Smok had just arrived on the enemy's front lines.
Even from several kilometers away James could hear the roaring approval of the other Smokowcy and even some of the men. The main Smok smacked his massive, clawed hands against the ground and let out a terrifying bellow. It took several seconds for the noise to reach him, and it was soon followed by the even louder roars of hundreds more Smokowcy following his example.
"They certainly are trying their hardest to scare the men. That massive Smok, that's Eisen Klauen, Iron Claws," Katarzyna almost whispered. "It seems he's come to finish the job he couldn't eight years ago."
"Perhaps he wants your legs," Katja muttered as she came up besides James.
"I don't doubt it," the Cesarzowa replied. "He still wants revenge for us taking Duchess from him. That and this is Steel Fang's way of showing us he means to finish us today. A shame the dragon tribe's chieftain isn't seeing to it personally. They're sending a messenger."
A group of a dozen men in grand outfits began riding out from the Grand Alliance lines.
"Good grief," James muttered involuntarily.
Crown Princess Rima ran up, "Cesarzowa, I thought your doctors told you to rest—"
Katarzyna's keen eyes silenced the objection beneath her immense imperial hat's veil. The empress was wearing her enormous pointy hat at the moment, but was otherwise donned in full armor. It was an awkward look, but James noticed her red-plumed helmet in one arm.
Rima nodded briefly in deference to the Cesarzowa and caught sight of the enormous army ranged in opposition, "Shit, is their army really that big? How do we intend to stop them from overwhelming us?"
"It is, and our strategy has already been decided," Katarzyna remarked. "Tell me Rima, do you know why Smokowcy are so much more dangerous than awakened beings?"
Rima seemed surprised, "I assumed it was because a Smok on its own is much more dangerous than an awakened."
Katarzyna smirked underneath her veil, "Not quite true, Rima. While the average Smok is somewhat more dangerous than an average awakened, they are utterly lacking in the ability to fire projectiles and are sometimes much slower. That's discounting the fact that there is no Smok that can fly. What makes Smokowcy more lethal is not their great strength, fast-healing, nor their armored hide, lethal tail, long claws or great size. They are more lethal because they have discipline, intelligence, use tactics, and coordinate with one another. Awakened are incapable of such coordination, and are slaughtered in battle in comparison."
"Why are you saying this Cesarzowa?"
"We'll be facing the largest concentration of their kind in history upon the battlefield. Do not underestimate their ability to fight in groups or their intelligence, Rima. Your old friend Wenceslaus will be helping hold our right flank," Katarzyna declared. "I want you to take fifty Silver Guards and coordinate with him and Marshal Korsakov."
Rima nodded, "Yes Cesarzowa."
Rima quickly rushed off, mounted her armored warhorse, and spurred the stallion into a gallop towards the thin lines anchoring their right flank. Another fifty Silver Guards followed moments later, rushing past the Cesarzowa with their heads turned and their arms raised in salute. The Cesarzowa acknowledged them with a wave of her hand, and after they were gone removed her hat, handed it to Katja, and put on her helmet.
Moments later a pair of gaudily dressed officers in armor approached in a huff from the left. One moved with dynamism and had a fine white turban upon his head, a well-trimmed beard complementing it on his brown-skinned face. The other was a shorter Siyamese man with an open-faced, imperial eagle-adorned helmet upon his head. They both wore long black cloaks bordered in gold, and their plate armor was richly adorned with imperial emblems.
"Marshal Singh, Marshal Tokugawa, you're late," the Cesarzowa hissed.
"Cesarzowa," the turbaned Marshal Singh objected after bowing, "if you had informed me, I assure you I would—"
"Assuring me with words is not what I want, Marshal Singh," Katarzyna remarked, her eyes glancing to James and then straight into Singh's. "I want men of deeds, not words. In a few moments the Grand Alliance's messengers will be arriving. I want you to stay with me for the moment."
Tokugawa bowed, "Of course, Cesarzowa."
The beating of horses' hooves turned everyone's heads. The riding party from the Grand Alliance's army had arrived and slowed their horses as they approached the empress' party. Imperial Guardsmen rushed to create a defensive perimeter around the empress as well as a pathway for any possible visitor. Katja and a whole squad of Silver Guard held a line a little ways off, where ornately dressed Grand Alliance men grudgingly dismounted and permitted their persons to be searched.
"They're clean," Katja shouted.
Katarzyna waved them forward, where a young man dressed in a puffy red shirt with white sleeves, white tights and silver-buckle shoes came forward. He seemed very young to James' eyes, and then he realized that the 'young man' was in fact a silver-eyed slayer. He had almost forgotten that in the aftermath of Katarzyna's coup a few of their own kind had turned traitor and defected to the Grand Alliance.
The well-groomed slayer, whose hair had been dyed brown, halted three meters away with James and another Silver Guard flanking the empress.
Katarzyna waited expectantly, "Well?"
"I carry a message from the Grand Alliance to you, Marshal," the slayer declared in a polished voice.
The annoyance amongst the Silver Guards and Imperial Guardsmen around the Cesarzowa was palpable. This messenger had just failed to address the empress by her proper title, a grave affront. However, given that the Grand Alliance refused to acknowledge the empress' title and position, it was not something that surprised James. To stick the Grand Alliance even more in the eye, Bastia had suggested the honorific of 'Her Supreme Imperial Majesty'. Since there were some four emperors in the Grand Alliance, it was supposed to mark her far above any of them and also annoy them that she did not acknowledge them as equals.
"Their Imperial Majesties and His Eminence, Iron Claws, demand that you immediately give up your ill-gotten throne, stand your forces down, accept Grand Alliance suzerainty of your lands, and accept exile to the Kingdom of Breton," the slayer continued.
Katarzyna remarked calmly, "Is that all?"
The messenger's back stiffened, "Your actions have led directly and indirectly to the deaths of over a million people! Have the decency to accept to accept exile and leave the world in peace. You face an army you cannot hope to defeat in the field."
"I am disinclined to acquiesce," the Cesarzowa murmured.
"Then your army will be broken this day, your Silver Guard decimated, your Imperial Guard smashed and sent into retreat, and our terms will be unconditional surrender," the messenger snapped. "This will be your final judgment for your illegal usurpation of power, your butchery of the royal families, and your lust for absolute power."
James was sorely tempted to slap the slayer for his insults. Katarzyna was not a monster; she was merely misunderstood. Despite the abuse, the empress merely stood there calmly, taking it in.
"We have nothing more to say to you, usurper," the slayer hissed. "By today's end, you will not live to regret your actions."
The slayer turned and left, mounted his horse, and with a disdainful glance back, prodded his chestnut-colored horse forward. His party followed and was soon out of earshot. James looked over at Katarzyna, who was holding her head.
James steadied her balance by gripping her left arm, "Cesarzowa, you're not well—"
"I'm well enough to command," Katarzyna insisted, "and at least now we know the Grand Alliance was involved with the assassination attempts on our family."
James frowned; he wasn't sure how she had come to that conclusion. In fact, he wasn't sure the empress was recovered enough to be thinking properly. He couldn't recall the last time Katarzyna had just stood by and taken abuse from someone else.
Marshal Singh spoke up, "Cesarzowa, there was one minor matter. Dukes Sergei and Wenceslaus send you their best wishes towards your recovery, and Wenceslaus asks whether Princess Kasia is doing better."
The Cesarzowa's eyes lit up, "You may tell Duke Wenceslaus that she is recovering and busily directing our empire's government in my absence, and as for me, I plan to fight regardless of my poor condition. They're positioned on the opposite flanks, correct?"
Marshal Singh nodded, "As you requested, we've kept them separated. Sergei and Indira will be helping hold the left flank, and Wenceslaus, Crown Princess Rima and Minhe-Choung Park will be helping hold our right flank. Your orders, Cesarzowa?"
James nearly had a heart attack when Katarzyna said, "We abandon the high ground."
Wenceslaus was resting his massive battle axe's handle upon his left shoulder, observing the approaching Grand Alliance lines a kilometer distant. Evident behind their front line of pikemen and heavy swordsmen were hundreds of Dragonkin. He was sitting on a front porch of a house on the edge of the town of Liberec. Milling all around were a thousand slayers, some on rooftops and others in formation. Suddenly there was a great cheer.
"Sounds like Rima has arrived," a female slayer murmured.
He turned to find the legendary Minhe-Choung Park leaning against a post. She was wearing her armor, a black and gold-embroidered cape giving her a flashy appearance. Minhe was perhaps the fastest female slayer in history, but seemed relaxed as she parted some of her long blond bangs to look at him.
Minhe asked, "Aren't you going to greet your favorite Romanow?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Wenceslaus murmured.
"Sure you don't," Minhe sniffed in amusement, "wouldn't want to ruin your chances at becoming Cesarzow, now would you?"
The chance to respond was stolen by Rima's contingent of Silver Guards before him and Minhe, with Rima dismounting in dramatic fashion. Minhe nonchalantly flicked her waist-long ponytail, donned her helmet, and turned to salute. Wenceslaus took the moment more seriously and saluted immediately.
Rima glanced at Minhe as she stopped before the porch, "Just a little nonchalant, Duchess Park. Good grief Wenceslaus, just what do you think you're wielding?"
Minhe flashed him a smirk; she clearly thought Rima was proving her theory.
"I find a battle axe is much more useful for severing a Smok's vertebrae than lighter weapons," Wenceslaus replied, pointing to Minhe's curved Katana sword.
"My sword does just fine," Minhe rebuked him.
A signal flag officer rushed up to Rima and breathlessly saluted, "The Cesarzowa says she is withdrawing from the Tellnitz Heights and wants you to prepare for immediate attack."
Rima stiffened; the disbelief was etched all over her face.
"Marshal Korsakov wished you to know," the signal officer explained before running off.
Wenceslaus could see the Grand Alliance's lines surging forward now, Dragonkin coming behind the front ranks. The slayers around them were rushing back behind the lines as countless pikemen and halberdmen prepared to receive the charge.
"Goddammit," Rima cursed. "I hope to hell she knows what she's doing, because giving up the high ground goes against every book of military tactics I've ever read."
James was watching the attack on the right flank with unease. Massive numbers of men were now engaged in a massive fight, with the Dragonkin coming up to try a breakthrough. At least they did so until there were a massive number of powder flashes. As the smoke rose from the town of Liberec, he heard countless booms only muffled by the distance.
"That ought to make them think twice," Katarzyna murmured next to him. "Dragonkin hate being hit by concentrated cannon fire."
She was watching the fight through a hand telescope along with Marshals Singh and Tokugawa. On all sides were members of the Silver Guard, both on horseback and on foot. They were partly enveloped by a low fog, but even more concealed was the imperial army's center, which was further behind at the very bottom of the valley floor.
"They've taken the Tillnitz Heights," Marshal Singh said, pointing.
Sure enough, as James looked, he saw Grand Alliance red-and-white flags atop the long hill far above them. Somehow it looked as if the Cesarzowa wasn't concerned. A glance to the left flank saw the Grand Alliance's army approaching across farm fields rimmed by low walls of stone. Far out front of the main lines was a group of—
"Not bad," Katarzyna murmured. "Those have to be Osakan Samurai longbowmen. They're acting as a skirmish force to engage our crossbowmen and weaken our lines."
"That might have worked in the time of Suleiman the Conqueror," Marshal Singh remarked.
Katarzyna glanced at the nearby signals officer, "Signal Marshals Nusayr and Massena to bring up their cannons and let them approach to within six hundred meters before firing. A shame this is Emperor Junichiro's first battle; he's not going to enjoy the lesson we'll give him."
James could just glimpse the hundreds of cannons being moved into firing positions as the Osakan troops approached en masse. Abruptly there was a massive series of blasts as the cannons opened up on the shocked archers. James could scarcely watch the carnage through his telescope. Men were being shot to pieces as they tried to climb over a low stone wall. One cannonball hit the ground early and then knocked off the legs of over ten men as it flew down their line. James averted his glance from their agony and towards the bold commander.
The commander tried to keep the archers going while under fire as James watched. This lasted until the man was beheaded by a flying cannonball. As his body fell to the ground, the men panicked and ran back towards the safety of their lines. In the battle between cannon and archers, the much greater firepower and range of artillery batteries made all the difference. The enemy hadn't even managed a volley.
"Have our reinforcements from Visegrad arrived yet?"
Marshal Singh looked uncomfortable, "Not yet. Cesarzowa, if Vice Marshal Suvorov is late, we should change our plans and reinforce the weakened right flank with the—"
"That is out of the question," Katarzyna snapped. "The Vice Marshal has shown himself to be a man of action, and I have no doubt he can accomplish the forced march."
Marshal Tokugawa objected, "Cesarzowa, perhaps 100 kilometers was too far to push his men from Visegrad in 48 hours."
The empress roughly grabbed Tokugawa by his armored collar, dragging him closer, "His men aren't even scheduled to get here for another hour and you're already acting like some panicked grandmother!"
Marshal Singh tried to reason with her as she let the fearful Tokugawa go, "Cesarzowa, it is not unreasonable to fear a man so young…"
The glowering from the empress was formidable, "You might have used the same argument against members of my family once. Suvorov may be 25, but he is a combat-proven officer with twelve victories and no defeats to his name; he is not going to let me down."
Marshals Singh and Tokugawa gave up trying to convince the Cesarzowa otherwise. James didn't know the young Vice Marshal, but there were very few individuals who inspired the empress' trust so, not even Rima. Katarzyna very rarely mistook someone's personal character.
"Well, look at that, they're trying to take us in both flanks," the Cesarzowa remarked.
Hundreds of thousands of men were rushing forward now on both flanks, with Dragonkin following behind the front lines. From what little James knew of the battle strategy, the left flank would be held by Marshals Massena and Nusayr with 200,000 men. The right flank would be mostly held by a single, strung-out corps under Marshal Korsakov and the less strung-out corps of Marshal Tokugawa. Holding the center was Marshal Singh's corps along with the 100,000-man strong Imperial Guard.
Judging by all-out assault on both flanks, particularly the right, the Grand Alliance had decided the strategy of double envelopment. Given the fact that the imperial army lacked the manpower to match the length of frontline by their enemies, the strategy was obvious. Stretch them and then smash both flanks before turning in on the center and destroying the army.
"I count 300,000 men backed by 300 Smokowcy on the right, and 300,000 men and 300 Smokowcy attacking on our left. If the fools knew what they were doing they'd be hitting us with the Dragonkin in the front ranks," Katarzyna commented. "Marshal Tokugawa, see to it that Marshal Korsakov's corps receives supporting fire."
"Here they come," Rima murmured fearfully, clutching her claymore like a crutch.
"It'll be fine," Wenceslaus reassured, patting the Crown Princess on the shoulder. "Just don't think about it and let the fight flow through you."
They were a hundred meters behind the front lines, with the pikemen in full formation, pikes out in a multi-layered defense. Within their lines were a number of halberdmen, wielding their much shorter weapons. These Wenceslaus knew from experience were needed to counter the attacks of the Landknechts; swordsmen who wielded broadswords so large they needed two hands to wield them. They were used to hack into pikemen formation and break them open enough for heavy cavalry to punch through. Halberdmen, while slightly less useful against cavalry, could more than hold their own and they had the advantage of being able to fight heavy swordsmen.
"Damn bloody bastards are going to get a taste of our fire today boys," a white-haired, well-armored man shouted beside them, pacing behind lines of crossbowmen.
The man was none other than Marshal Korsakov, a 70-year-old veteran and legendary for his ability to mount stiff defenses. By Wenceslaus' estimate he was sorely needed, as over twice as many men were bearing down on their lines. The Marshal had set up on the edge of town, just a block in. At first Wenceslaus didn't know why, but now it was obvious. The enemy would be funneled down the streets straight into the Marshal's cannon and defensive lines. The flank to the right was held by an ice-covered lake, but it looked too thin for anyone to dare chance crossing.
Rima whispered into Wenceslaus' ear as the crossbowmen began loading their bows, "I have a confession to make. I couldn't think of anything but the three hundred million lives resting on my shoulders. It was like a never-ending nightmare; I'd have been happier raising Sturm and Drang all over again then do that again."
"Your Imperial Highness, now's not the time for this," Wenceslaus whispered back.
This was just like Rima; the other side of her temper and bold attitude was a sometimes debilitating anxiety. Rima was a spectacular warrior, but she lacked Sergei's cool professional killing instinct or Indira's pure battle-fury.
Korsakov shouted a few meters away from them, "Fire!"
The first line of crossbowmen let loose at the charging enemy swordsmen several hundred meters away. Before the bolts even hit, the next line rose in their place, aimed, and then let loose. The enemy swordsmen came down in small numbers at first, and then in increasing numbers as the distance closed. A pair of cannons parted the front lines in the street's center, their crew at the ready.
"Artillery, double-canister shot on my mark," Korsakov barked, holding up his hand.
He flung his arm down, "Mark!"
The swordsmen were running at top speed now, gasping in their armor as they closed to within 50 meters on the cobblestone street. The cannon crews lit their fuses and held hands over their ears. It took a couple of seconds, so that the enemy infantry was within half the distance when an ear-splitting pair of blasts ripped into them. The front ranks of the swordsmen didn't so much fall as they were eviscerated. In some places, men twenty ranks back had still been hit by the cannon's fire, which had punched two large holes into the enemy ranks. The attacking men had been gruesomely turned into nothing more than cannon fodder.
"Pull back the cannon," Korsakov yelled. "Slayers, prepare yourselves for combat. The fucking bastards are bringing up the real monsters."
The man cursed like a sergeant, which as chance had it Korsakov had once been. Wenceslaus could feel the ground was shaking with countless tremors; he knew the onslaught that was coming even before he saw them. The chill air was overwhelmed in the yells of men as the Grand Alliance's swordsmen smashed into a wall of pikes. Some managed to cut their way into the pikes, but others were unluckily impaled.
"See to your damn battalion, Duke Wenceslaus," the shorter Korsakov yelled at him.
"Yes sir," he acknowledged and rushed back to the main square, a block back, where some five hundred slayers stood waiting for him.
Rushing past him was Minhe, who was leading her battalion to hold the left side of town with her warriors. His warriors, both male and female, looked apprehensive.
"Slayers, we're going to hold the lake-side of Liberec and prevent any Dragonkin-led breakthroughs. We need to hold them until Vice Marshal Suvorov's reinforcements arrive. I promise, your actions will be recounted to the Cesarzowa, so let's show the Grand Alliance that we know how to fight and survive."
He led them forward, towards the front lines, the boom of many cannon and the tremendous tremors in the earth telling him of the approach of the Smokowcy. His slayers rushed towards the front lines, where they got their glimpse of hundreds of incoming dragons. As he watched from the roof of a temple, the three-story tall beasts avoided their own men by pulverizing their way through buildings. He could feel the ground quake and tremble from the force of it.
Bricks, buildings, roofs, and more went flying as the Smokowcy took their shortcut straight through the blocks themselves. This he had to stop, as they would go right by the cannons that could stop them and decimate the infantry.
"We intercept them with a three-pronged attack, straight on and from either side," Wenceslaus yelled at his subordinates.
There was something exhilarating about hearing five hundred pairs of boots behind him, but the sheer numbers of Smokowcy was worrying. He jumped up onto the rooftop edge of one block and kept going. He had only reached the block's edge when the first Smok smashed through four-story buildings on the opposite side of the street. This one was enormous; nearly one hundred tons by his estimation.
It had enormous back-fins, which marked an especially old Smok. Its hide was covered in scars, and its tail had six wickedly sharp spikes on the tip of its razor ridge-edged tail. The red-brown beast shook off the wreckage of the building it had smashed and looked up…and stopped. It was obviously noticing him with his battle axe resting over one shoulder and the five hundred slayers standing with him.
"Wenceslaus, this is most unexpected," the Smok said in perfect Comnenian. "I hadn't had the displeasure of meeting your blade for some time. A shame you had to bring so many friends, but they won't be enough to stop my comrades."
The massive dragon held out his enormous arms, and dozens of smaller Smokowcy smashed through the remaining buildings. They stopped short at seeing the opposition, not daring divert to the main streets where the infantry was clashing.
"It's been a long time, Iron Claws," Wenceslaus said while drawing his battle axe, "You're not going to break our lines."
"You can try protecting your Smokowcy-murdering empress' plans all you want, but you don't have the numbers to stop us," Iron Claws bellowed.
With shocking speed, the massive Smok whipped around, and Wenceslaus jumped back on instinct. Iron Claws' tail stretched out as he spun around and knocked the top story off the building Wenceslaus had once stood upon with ease. A pair of slayers nearby weren't so lucky, as the spikes on Iron Claws' tail had cut them clean in half.
"If that's how you want to play it, you give me no choice," Wenceslaus shouted. "Slayers, use your Hellenic grenades!"
Iron Claws' budding grin vanished as dozen of flaming grenades were flung into his comrades' ranks. Moments later, Wenceslaus charged straight towards Iron Claws.
The right flank looked to James to be in tough shape but holding somehow, with slayers and Dragonkin engaging in a deadly close quarters fighting. The ruins of the formerly pristine town were now smoking or ablaze, clouds of black smoke rising far into the sky. James noticed the Grand Alliance was still holding the Tillnitz Heights but hadn't attacked from them yet. The imperial army's center meanwhile was still concealed in fog and behind stone walls. To the left were the wide-open plains where the Grand Alliance was attacking with fury, some three hundred Smokowcy trying to flank the army.
They had been met by one thousand slayers, a force adequate for stopping them but not enough to do so forever. They were desperately fighting each other off the flank of the two closely engaged armies.
Katarzyna was observing this when she put down her telescope and snapped at the nearby signal corps officer, "Order Marshal Massena to turn his cannon upon the Smokowcy off his flanks. I want heavy enfilading fire upon those dragons. It should pressure them into retreat."
The officer frantically relayed the complicated messaged down the lines towards Massena's corps, which were kilometers to their left. The Cesarzowa watched the signal rush across the army, and a minute later there was a sudden change in cannon positioning. It looked to James as if Massena was positioning his artillery in one massive group of hundreds. Another minute passed, and then there was a long line of artillery powder discharges.
"More than a dozen down in the first volley," the Cesarzowa noted approvingly. "There's nothing quite as lethal to Dragonkin as massed cannon fire."
Marshal Singh pointed to the right, "Cesarzowa, the right flank is nearing collapse. Marshals Korsakov and Tokugawa need support now or—"
"Back up Tokugawa with half your force, Marshal Singh," Katarzyna pointed. "Send in two companies of slayers to back up the Crown Princess' force."
"Yes Cesarzowa," Singh acknowledged with a prompt salute.
Wenceslaus flung himself forward, arms outstretched. A massive claw smashed into the cobblestone street behind him. Wenceslaus scrambled to his feet as a roar of fury rang out. Wenceslaus turned to find Iron Claws twisting around to slash with the other arm. He swung his massive battle axe to meet one of the claws, and the tip of Iron Claws' index finger came clean off, a spurt of black blood spilling out onto the street.
Iron Claws bellowed in pain at the minor injury, "Du Schwein! Ich werde dein Arm abreißen!"
Iron Claws spun around with incredible speed, his whip-like tail glancing off Wenceslaus' battle axe, causing him to lose grip. The battle axe clanged onto the cobblestone street in the direction of another Smok. This one was battling four warriors at once, bellowing in pain when one managed to hit it square in the face with a Hellenic grenade. The damage was more superficial than anything else, but the distraction was priceless.
As the Smok reached to fling the burning liquid off its face, the warriors cut the tendons and ligaments in the back of its legs. He toppled chest-first onto the street, hitting the ground with a tremendous thud. The warriors were gathering for a death blow when Wenceslaus saw Iron Claws rushing towards the Smok to save it. Iron Claws spun, and immediately Wenceslaus knew he meant to kill the warriors with his lethal tail.
"Duck!"
The four warriors never stood a chance as Wenceslaus' superb reflexes just barely allowed him to dive under the tail. He landed on his belly and grasped his battle axe, kicking out onto his feet to find the four slayers cut in two. All around him there were countless human bodies, numerous dead slayer bodies, occasional mounds of dead Dragonkin, and all around the town's ruins were smoldering.
He saw Iron Claws recovering from his spin and didn't wait for him to attack. Wenceslaus rushed over to the half-disabled Smok, cutting off one defending hand at the wrist and then rushed to the neck, where he severed the spine with one great blow. A deafening roar of fury blasted over him, and he just barely jumped out of the way of Iron Claws' retaliatory slash.
This time two more Dragonkin joined Iron Claws, flanking him to either side. The ensuing battle was unfair to say the least: three Dragonkin, one of them the second-strongest member of the entire tribe, against a single slayer. He breathlessly dodged a series of attacks, only for the bottom side of a Smok's tail to connect with his chest armor. All the breath was driven from his body, and he could feel broken ribs as he groggily staggered to his knees.
His vision was blurred, his torso awash in staggering pain, his balance askew, his mind confused, and his hearing was oddly distorted. It was only slowly improving when he just made out Iron Claws' fangs as he chortled in amusement.
"The great Wenceslaus is laid low at last," Iron Claws declared, clearly enjoying himself as he towered over Wenceslaus. "I'll put an end to your misery, you—"
A flash of movement and a surprised growl from Iron Claws was Wenceslaus' clue that things had been interrupted. His vision cleared enough to see Rima and three Silver Guards holding on for dear life to swords impaled into Iron Claws' side. The enormous Smok frantically rolled, but Rima and her bodyguards pulled free just in time. They jumped off and dodged being squashed by the male Smok's body.
Wenceslaus was helped to his feet by a black-skinned male Silver Guard while gasping for breath. Feeling constricted, Wenceslaus ripped off his smashed steel cuirass, but its clattering was drowned out by the dying bellow of a Smok. Wenceslaus noticed as he gasped for breath that both of Iron Claws' nearby comrades had been attacked by the Silver Guard. One was sprawled out on his side, a dozen blades embedded into his side and neck. The other was lying upon his belly, and it appeared that a slayer had just administered the finishing blow to the vertebrae.
Rima rushed up, looking concerned as she held out her bloodied sword, "You look a mess, Wenceslaus. Take a few minutes at least to heal yourself while we take care of this."
Iron Claws bellowed as he clambered to his massive feet, the ground shaking from the impact. The Silver Guard immediately formed into a loose formation facing the huge Smok with their halberds, claymores, katanas, battle axes and poleaxes. Rima turned to look at Iron Claws, who was edging away from the Silver Guard as his index finger began to visibly regenerate. Iron Claws sniffed in disgust upon spotting Rima.
"So it's the foul witch at last," Iron Claws sneered in his gravelly voice. "You took my daughter from me, and I swear if it costs me my life I will get her back and tear you into pieces!"
"You're outmatched, Iron Claws," Rima pointed out.
It was at that moment that a bugle call cut through the noise of battle blowing for retreat.
"Not for long, you foul kidnapper," Iron Claws sneered.
"Back to the third line, fall back to the third line," Marshal Korsakov's voice rang out.
"That's right you little coward, run," Iron Claws hissed.
Rima grabbed Wenceslaus by the arm when dozens of retreating slayers ran past the Silver Guard, followed distantly behind by over a hundred lumbering Smokowcy. The Silver Guard warily covered their retreat back to their second-to-last defensive line.
Rima despaired, "If we don't get reinforcements in a few minutes, the Grand Alliance is going to break our right flank!"
James knew things were tough on the right flank as the blast of cannon fire came less regularly from Marshal Korsakov's troops. Smoke was rising from the town as the troops retreated to yet another defensive line. The Cesarzowa was observing the battle intensely, as the left flank was holding up ably to the Grand Alliance's assault. She put down her telescope as a signals officer rushed up.
"Cesarzowa, Marshal Korsakov says the flank is in immediate danger," the man declared.
"Tell the Marshal to hold the line at all costs; Vice Marshal Suvorov will arrive with 40,000 men and a full company of slayers in ten minutes. He has to hold that last line until then. Tell Marshal Tokugawa to keep up the enfilading fire into the enemy ranks."
"Yes, Cesarzowa," the young man said, saluting before rushing off.
"They've upped their commitment to the left flank," Katarzyna remarked. "They've added another 50,000 men and 100 Smokowcy to the assault. If we can just hold them a bit longer—"
The signal officer rushed back and saluted again, "Marshal Massena is requesting reinforcements to help hold the left flank. He says Duke Djugashvili doesn't think they can hold the flank much longer against the—"
Katarzyna snapped, gesturing dramatically from her warhorse's saddle for silence, "You can tell Sergei that Wenceslaus is not only not complaining, but he's helping hold the right flank with even fewer men. Tell Massena he'll get indirect relief in a few minutes."
The signal officer looked flummoxed, "Cesarzowa?"
"Tell Marshal Massena that as soon as Suvorov arrives he'll see his relief," the empress declared. "I can see Suvorov's standards already."
Sure enough, heading at full speed towards the right flank were the standards of two divisions on a distant road. James could just barely make out the men as the wind began picking up and the fog just began to start clearing. They were still at least a kilometer away from the front lines though by James' estimate. If Suvorov was going to save the situation he was going to have to hurry.
Wenceslaus had just barely healed his ribs enough to breathe properly and grabbed his battle axe. He emerged from the makeshift field hospital and rushed onto the cobblestone street, where a steady stream of injured men was being rushed back from the front lines. They were only two blocks distant, the roar of cannon and Dragonkin almost deafening despite the distance.
Marshal Korsakov was rallying some of the men nearby when he spotted Wenceslaus and rushed over.
Korsakov yelled, "What're ya doin'? Help the Crown Princess before she's overwhelmed!"
Wenceslaus knew things had to be dire if the Silver Guard had been fully committed to holding the lines. He rushed down the narrow streets until he found the infantry's front lines, a quartet of cannon firing down the long boulevard. Using a massive burst of Yoma energy, he managed to clear the four-story buildings and land upon a low-angled tiled roof.
He felt Rima's yoki spiking, which meant she was going full-out; not a good sign. He rushed over the rooftops and suddenly had to duck some flying debris. A pair of Silver Guards jumped over him just as a Smok's tail missed them. He swung his battle axe, and cut off the six spikes and the tip of the tail. The tail's owner cried out in pain and then rushed towards the safety of his comrades.
The scene was brutal, as over a hundred slayers and the remaining members of the Silver Guard had engaged some thirty plus Smokowcy. There was no sign of Iron Claws in the midst of Liberec's ruins, but the fights were fast going the wrong way. The buildings just beyond were utterly smashed, their four-story frames reduced to ground level. Wenceslaus jumped off the last line of undamaged buildings and onto the plain of battle.
Rima and six of her bodyguards were desperately engaged with a trio of Smokowcy, all of whom seemed very intent on killing her. They were a few hundred meters away, and Wenceslaus bolted into action when Rima just barely dodged a Smok's attempt to smash her with the palm of its massive hand. Rima scrambled and just managed to make a flying leap out of the way of another Smok's follow-up slash.
Rima landed only a few meters away from the third Smok, whose attempt to crush her beneath its feet was cut short by two Silver Guards impaling their blades into either side of its thighs. It whipped around and rolled, both guards managing to pull free in time as the Smok rolled into a brick building and leveled it. Rima was just getting to her feet when the second Smok rushed up.
Wenceslaus swung his battle axe downwards, intercepting the Smok's outstretched hand from the side and batting it down onto the ground. The Smok attempted to slash him with the other hand, but Wenceslaus somersaulted underneath the attack. He got to his feet and rushed to the Smok's legs, severing the right leg's tendons with a single hack of the battle axe.
The Smok nearly fell upon him but managed to hold itself up with one hand. Wenceslaus rushed to safety and looked back to see Rima administering the death blow to the Smok's neck. The creature stilled, but its two comrades roared in fury, rushing towards them. Rima waved for a retreat, which Wenceslaus followed, easily pulling away from the pursuit.
As they rushed over the undamaged buildings further back, Rima turned right and rushed across the rooftops. Three cannons were being towed down the street at speed by mounted horses, while a fourth was stubbornly staying put with some rearguard infantry. A Smok was bearing down upon the cannon and its crew at a full run.
The young corporal in charge was directing his men when most of them ran off, terrified at the doom coming straight towards them. Wenceslaus landed just behind Rima in the street when the corporal kept going, jamming the canister shot down with a metal rammer. He rushed around to the back of the gun and lit the fuse. The nearby infantry were running for their lives back to the fourth and final defensive line when the cannon discharged. The Smok made a mournful noise as the canister shot tore into it, blood and small bits of hide flying all over. It toppled and fell mere meters from the cannon with a tremendous tremor.
Rima directed a few members of the Silver Guard to finish the gasping Smok, which was done within moments.
Rima shouted at the astonished remaining infantrymen, "Don't just stand there, help the man move the cannon back to our final line!"
The infantrymen rushed to the corporal's aid, limbering the cannon to the horses and rushed back towards the very edge of Liberec. Rima waved for a retreat just as Smokowcy emerged further down the boulevard and began running towards them.
Wenceslaus was almost gasping for breath when he got back to the final line on the edge of town, and suddenly he noticed far more cannon and men than had been present minutes earlier. Korsakov was talking to a young officer, both of them promptly saluting when the Crown Princess rushed up with her forty remaining Silver Guards.
"Crown Princess, this is Vice Marshal Suvorov," Korsakov said, gesturing to the thin-framed man in fine armor besides him.
Suvorov had a thin, boyish chin, blue eyes, was not particularly tall, and his appearance was not helped by slightly unkempt hair. But there was dynamism in the way he flamboyantly bowed to the Crown Princess.
Suvorov declared, "I have arrived with forty thousand men and a full company of slayers to reinforce the lines. Once we stop their charge, we will counterattack."
Rima's eyes widened in disbelief as she mouthed, "Counterattack?"
Korsakov spoke up, "The Cesarzowa has 50,000 men under Marshal Singh and all 100,000 men of the Imperial Guard in reserve. She intends to counterattack once we stop the Smokowcy charge and take the fight to the enemy."
They were interrupted by the last untouched line of buildings in Liberec being smashed apart by a line of over two hundred Smokowcy. Following behind were hundreds of thousands of infantrymen. Given the circumstances, Wenceslaus couldn't imagine how the Cesarzowa thought a counterattack was in any way a possibility.
Suvorov snapped into action as Wenceslaus, Rima and the Silver Guard ran behind the reformed lines of pikemen and cannons.
Suvorov shouted out as he mounted his horse, pointing towards the Dragonkin, "Steady your lines boys, we break them here. Artillery, prepare to fire double-canister shot!"
The imperial army was situated just a couple hundred meters from the edge of town, the cannons having a clear field of fire. There looked to be more cannons than Smokowcy, but Wenceslaus wasn't certain that would be enough. Several of the Dragonkin hesitated seeing the artillery ranged in opposition. The crews rushed to finish loading the canister shot as the enemy's beasts bored down upon them. Wenceslaus knew the remaining five hundred slayers in opposition wouldn't be enough to stop them, so it was all on the cannons.
They roared as they came, but under Suvorov's direction and Korsakov's watchful eyes the artillery crews worked seamlessly. Then, with the nearest Smok within a hundred meters of their lines, the crews signaled they were ready.
Korsakov bellowed, "Artillery, fire!"
The blasts of cannon were deafening as they tore into the Smokowcy front ranks. Amazingly, several of the Smokowcy still managed to keep going, staggering forward at a snail's pace after being shot, their hides covered in torn skin and oozing blood. The blasts stopped as the last cannon fired, and just under half of the enemy's beasts were rushing forward, unwounded. The remainder was struggling after being shot, others' dead bodies slowing the charge.
Suvorov shouted, "Slayers, counterattack!"
Wenceslaus rushed forward leading 100 fresh warriors, the odds slightly in their favor. He held out his battle axe and swung.
Katarzyna was observing the impact of Suvorov's troops, her telescope coming down when she was satisfied. Marshal Singh for once began showing the barest hint of a grin upon his face as he sat upon his horse beside her. James was observing all of this on his own warhorse, just behind and to their right. They were in a grassy knoll at the bottom of the Tillnitz Heights, where a few Grand Alliance units and Dragonkin could be seen milling around. One of the enemy's cannons managed a shot, the round falling a few hundred meters to the empress' left.
"Cesarzowa, we're in range of their artillery," Marshal Singh reminded. "We should retreat to someplace safer for now."
The empress turned her horse and prodded it back into the thinning fog. Within a minute they had arrived before the members of the Imperial Guard. These veterans were superbly equipped with arms, armor, and plenty of cannon. It was the thirteen hundred silver-eyed warriors lined up before the Imperial Guard that took James' breath away.
The empress pointed towards the thinly guarded Tillnitz Heights in the center of the enemy's lines, "Soldiers and warriors, we are going to take the fight to our enemy. In a few minutes, you will take the Tillnitz Heights. The enemy has overcommitted to attacking our right flank, and in doing so has stripped their center of troops. Your attack will not only deal them a huge blow to morale, but threaten to cut their army in two!"
James found his mouth hanging open; she'd purposely weakened the right flank to entice the enemy into attacking them where she wanted. Despite the enemy's best efforts, the right flank had held, the left was holding up even better, and the Grand Alliance had left their army open to a counterattack smashing through their center. Katarzyna had gone against all conventional military tactics in military history by abandoning the high ground, outnumbered to boot, and she was about to launch the winning blow attacking the high ground despite all the odds against her. The word 'brilliant' didn't quite cover it in James' opinion.
"Slayers, you will hit them as a massed force before the infantry arrives," the Cesarzowa shouted, her voice growing hoarse. "Press the attack!"
Thirteen companies of warriors rushed off at a run towards the heights as the Imperial Guard marched past at double-pace in full formation. There were cheers of "long live the empress" as the men rushed past, eager to deal the Grand Alliance the coup de grace. The fog was finally gone now, and as the men and slayers began ascending the Tillnitz Heights into the glare of an auburn sun.