Author: Ahem. After much consideration I have decided to issue a challenge to the Fanfiction Community to upload a finished and somewhat decent story. To be eligible, the story is required to have some sort of an interesting plot, must have little to no plot holes and the author must actually finish the story instead of "discontinuing it like a god damn pussy just because he or she didn't have enough foresight to think the plot through or because he or she got lazy and decided it wasn't POPULAR enough for his/her attention!"

But in all seriousness, the real reason I posted this ridiculously long memo is because I took a week off from writing to browse through fanfiction for a little bit and I am honestly sick and tired of getting hooked on to a good plot and adding it to my favorites and then looking at the stats box to see that the author hasn't updated the story since 2006! And I soon found out there are two things that annoyed me the most!

1) The author decides to stop writing a story because of "due to lack of interest". Seriously what is this, a popularity contest? Ummm, let's recap. Fanfiction is a site for amateur writers who get no compensation for the works they post. The only thing we get is personal satisfaction from actually producing something from the rabbles of our imagination. Hell if you looked at my reviews box for this story, you'll see that before chapter 19, I didn't even average more than 1 review chapter! How's that for lack of interest? Seriously I wouldn't have gotten past the first chapter if I'd have given up that easily!

2) When an author randomly decides to kill of a main character for no apparent reason. GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! There are only a few select works of literature that can get away with doing this. All Quiet on the Western Front can do it cuz it's based on real life events and in real life the main character might not always survive. It was there to show how often people died during WWI. That I can understand. But HELLO? This is fanFICTION! None of this is based on real life. It's based on other published works! An author usually kills off the protagonist since he either doesn't know how to wrap up the plot into a satisfying conclusion, or because he's a fucking troll!

Look, I'm sorry I'm actually making you read all this crap but this seriously annoyed the heck out of me this week and it has only doubled my resolve to finish this story. There are a few more rabbles I would like to get out of the way. As much as I love this story, I'm kinda starting to regret not making Henrietta, Alex's love interest. Seriously it would have been perfect! They're both national leaders so they have a lot of common ground. (Alex resisting the urge to kill his MPs and Henrietta resisting the urge to kill her nobles) Hell it could have been like a Romeo and Juliet but with a happy ending! Imagine all hte angsty teenage drama! And plus if they ever got married Albion could've been a constitutional monarchy making Alex the king of both Albion and Tristain. It would've been just like the Glorious Revolution of England where William of Orange (Of the Netherlands) and Mary II (Of England) overthrew James II and establisehd a constituional monarchy in England. Hello? Albion and England? The Netherlands and Tristain? Considering the time periods was right after Cromwell (the real and the fiction Cromwell!) it would have been a perfect parellel to our actual history. I think my biggest reason however is that as I watch Zero no Tsukaima F, it's almost painful for me to watch Henrietta fight for the scraps of Saito's love and let's face it Henrietta is way out of Saito's league (fucking pervert, slob and wuss).

One last thing to get off my chest is that I am considering a couple of stories to after I write this once and that is:

1) The sequel to this story. (Drifters: The Bloody Crusade) I already explained this in chapter 29 but I can't exactly be sure of the plot until I watch all of season 4 since I have no idea how the crusade would work. The show didn't really talk alot about elves until now so I'm not sure if it can fit into the plot I'm currently envisioning. If any of you have read the Visual Novels (Because I haven't) feel free to PM me some info about them. It would be much appreciated.

2) I'm also thinking of another story where I just realized I have no idea how the sucession system in Germania works. And when I think about it, I made Alex's character so that he was practically prepared to come into this world. I mean he was a soldier, he was a West Point graduate. He already had all the skills he already needed. So I figure hey! Why dont I make Germania a theological monarchy where the ruler is chosen by some kind of magic seal thing... thingy (Yeah I haven't really refined this idea yet.) And we have some randome dude from our world (A total loser, with no sort of qualifying skills) become chosen by that magic seal thingy and suddenly finds himself the ruler of the most powerful country in the continent. But he's a total loser so he is not ambitious or brave or heroic in any way, shape or form (He will run away alot kinda like Shinji from Neon Genesis Evangelion)but he has to somehow overcome those weaknesses to survive in this society. I kinda like this idea because in almost all situations in the zero no tsukaima stories, the protagonist almost always comes into the story prepared to deal with what he/she's supposed to. They're either super smart or strong characters form our world or they're highly trained and powerful characters from other stories. Even Saito and Saito OC Characters come in and are like BAM! You're Gundolf! No self improvement or training required. So I think a weak and powerless character would be interesting so I'll defintely do this story before or after the sequel.

Anyways the next chapter will be seriously long (Probably longer than chapter 20) so it'll take me a little while to finish writing all of it. Anyways peace out and enjoy the chapter.

Throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight. If they will face death, there is nothing they may not achieve. Officers and men alike will put forth their uttermost strength.

Soldiers when in desperate straits lose their sense of fear. If there is no place of refuge, they will stand firm. If they are in hostile country they will show a stubborn front. If there is no help for it, they will fight hard.

Sun Tzu- The Art of War

o0o

It was dawn when Henrietta woke up in a slight daze in the royal chambers. Servants helped change her into battle armor and she walked outside into the main hall of the palace where Gramont and the rest of the Tristainian staff stood stiffly in attention. Just beyond the gate was the main courtyard where the volunteer nobility were supposed to be assembled.

"Good morning general."

"Formed and ready your majesty!" Gramont saluted stiffly.

"How many have reported in?" Henrietta asked in trepidation.

"errr… I cannot answer that, your majesty." Gramont said awkwardly.

'Did so few volunteer?' Henrietta thought despairingly. 'Perhaps Alexander was right after all.'

Finally unable to bear the burning curiosity any longer Henrietta stepped outside the door to see the numbers for herself. What she saw surprised her beyond measure. Outside in the courtyard was the largest gathering of nobles she had ever seen in her life. Irregular ranks stretched back to the palace gatehouse where even there nobility crowded around outside the gatehouse unable to fit inside the courtyard. They wore an assortment of different garments from old armor during their army days to regular clothing but they still stood in stiff ranks nevertheless.

"Good lord…" Henrietta whispered unable to believe her own eyes.

Gramont walked up behind her. "We have not yet counted all of them your majesty. There are several more waiting outside since the courtyard was not large enough, perhaps seven thousand at least"

"But… why?"

Gramont huffed in mock pride. "After all that garbage Alexander spouted at us in our own court. We wouldn't be able to call ourselves nobles if we stood by and did nothing. This is our country not his. We too must do our part in protecting it."

Henrietta slowly nodded. "When will you be able to form them in to battalions?"

"It should not take long your majesty. Many of these men and women were former army officers after all."

"I see. Then report to me after your done general."

"As you wish, your majesty."

At that Henrietta walked away still shaking her head in disbelief.

o0o

Alexander rolled down the gigantic map on to the table inside Henrietta's personal office. Mad Jack stood to Alex right as he addressed Henrietta and only her closest of advisors. After the incident with Mazarin's betrayal, the queen had felt it was necessary to step up security measures around the castle, so only General Gramont and Captain Agnes stood inside the room flanking Henrietta on both sides. Alex tapped a spot on the map with the edge of his knife.

"Last night," he said, "The Gallic forces were here, less than 60 miles west of Tristainia. They have a large army, so it's taking them time to form up and encamp every day but even so they will still reach the capital in less than 5 days time."

"Shouldn't they be able to move faster than that?" Henrietta asked. Alex shook his head.

"They can, but Joseph's not taking any chances." He told her. "He's placed thick lines of sentries on both sides of his column and large amounts of scouts. He has the supplies for a long drawn out campaign so he isn't pressured to hurry and make any mistakes. This is the reason we can't take the defensive strategy as Gramont had suggested. Even with fewer troops if we try to defend the walls of Tristain they'll be able to starve us out. Since we can't count on any reinforcements from any allies coming to our rescue, that plan of action is not a viable option."

"Then what do we do?" It was Gramont who asked this question. They weren't happy about the situation but at least they were prepared to listen.

"We'll have to take the initiative and offer battle to Joseph." Alex answered calmly. "We can engage them here on the banks of the River Rhine."

"What?" Gramont sputtered in shock. "Offer battle on open field? Against that horde?"

"Joseph wont be able to resist the temptation to end this war once and for all." said Alex, his eyes sparkling. "We offer a target he can't resist and he'll walk right in to our trap."

"He'll trample right over our army is what he'll do." Gramont snorted. "Are you forgetting that we are completely outnumbered and outgunned? It would take a force of extremely disciplined and highly trained soldiers to overcome such numbers, once which we do not possess at the moment."

"Speak for yourself. I have my Rangers and the Third." Alex retorted. "And besides, conventional methods and logic won't help us win in this situation. If we want to have any chance of winning, we need to be as unconventional as possible. Throw something the enemy won't expect."

"What are you suggesting?" Henrietta allowing her curiosity to get the better of her.

Alex smiled as he began explaining the contents of his plan to the audience before him. He saw their eyes widen at his incredulous strategy and from his peripheral vision saw even Jack, the master of all things foolhardy, wince as he unfolded his grand strategy.

"You're mad…" Henrietta whispered as Alex barely finished speaking.

Gramont nodded in agreement, his face still leaking his astonishment. "If just one thing goes wrong, then we would all end up dead. We'd be trapped with nowhere to do. It's an insane plan."

"We'll die either way if we don't do it." Alex countered. "At least this way we'll actually have a chance of surviving through this mess."

"But still…" Henrietta said "It seems so risky."

"Of course it's risky." Alex said dryly. "If it wasn't, war would be easy. Knowing your enemy and predicting his moves is all part of the strategy. First of all we know that Joseph is ruthless, manipulative and clever. However he's also arrogant. Like most mages he won't consider anything other than magic and magic induced abilities to be a threat. We can use that against him. Based from our earlier confrontations with him we can guess how he'll react. There's no point in doubting ourselves now, not when there's so much at stake. Remember that hesitation and fear has killed more often than it has saved. In the next few days we will win or lose everything."

Henrietta looked up at the grim eyes of the Albion General. He may have been just a normal person, but by Brimir he was a warrior to be reckoned with.

o0o

An hour later as Alex left the war council he was unsurprised to see Saito, Louise, Cattleya and even duchess Karin waiting for him in the grand hall. Cattleya was the first to speak. "Alex, what's the news? We heard the army was beginning to mobilize. At least that was the word within the camps."

Alex hesitated, knowing what he was about to say next would upset his love very much. "It's true Cattleya. The army is moving out tomorrow at dawn."

Cattleya placed a hand over her mouth in consternation. "So soon? Must you really leave now?"

Alex simply nodded, unable to trust himself to properly conceal his equal dismay of leaving her.

"Are they going to win?" Cattleya asked softly.

Alex looked away. "I won't lie to you about our chances Cattleya. I just don't know. It depends on so many factors."

She stepped closed pressing his hand into her chest. "Forget the details. Do you feel we can live through this?"

Alex looked in to her eyes and nodded slowly. "We will win. I promise. Joseph's forces will not cross the Rhine. That I swear on my life."

They paused for a moment and then she leaned forward and kissed him. The first time they had done that, he had marveled at the softness of her lips. He still did that now. She stepped back and again they looked into each other's eyes. Then she impulsively embraced him and felt his arms do the same. The held each other for a long, long time.

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear, her voice quivering. "Come back alive. Please."

She felt Alex nod against her shoulder. "I will." He whispered hoarsely. "By all things sacred I will return."

He stepped back breaking the contact to see Karin staring at him with an inscrutable expression. Beside her however, Louise had greater challenge concealing her emotions, sputtering in outrage. "Yo… y-y-you d-"

Alex raised a brow and looked at her questioningly. "Demon?" he suggested. "Dead man walking?"

"Darling?" Cattleya joined in. "Drôle gentleman?" Beside her, Karin raised a hand and placed it over her mouth.

"Dracula?" Alex tried again. "Dragon Fodder?"

"Louise still sputtered in outrage. "D-d-d-do…"

"The second letter is an O!" exclaimed Alex. "Quick everybody think of a word that starts with a D and an O!"

"Doppelganger?" Karin suggested. Her hand still covered her smile but her eyes were twinkling in amusement.

"Doorknob, donut, doll, doctor!" Alex fired off in quick succession.

"Doraemon?" Saito suggested making Alex looked at him.

"How the hell is she supposed to know what Doraemon is?" he asked.

Before Saito could reply Louise finally raised her voice and screamed, "DOG!"

He tried. They all tried. But it just simply wasn't possible. By the time Henrietta's aide came to give Saito and Louise their next deployment orders he found them all laughing hysterically like children rather than grown warriors they were. Even Karin who was still standing couldn't help the grin that spread out on her face, which for her was the equivalent of rolling on the ground laughing. It took some time for them to finally regain their composure after a while and Saito finally looked up at Alex and asked about their next assignment. Alex allowed himself a few more chuckles before finally gaining control of himself to look at Saito, his face now showing nothing but business.

"It seems Joseph has found a way to counter Louise's Void Magic during the battle of St. Peter's Pass." Alex said. "It's not surprising when you consider that he's also a Void Mage. I don't know the details about your mystery magic but I assume if he could do it once then he can do again in our upcoming battle."

"So what's your battle plan?" asked Saito.

"We're going to pitch a battle as a diversionary tactic." Alex explained. "While we distract Joseph, I want you and Louise accompanied by the Undine Knights to attack his supply lines. From there we can begin a scorched earth campaign and starve out his army just like Napoleon in Russia."

Saito nodded. It made sense.

"It will be dangerous." Alex continued. "On both sides. Trying to withdraw without too many casualties will be tricky at best. However I do have the legendary wind mage, Karin the Heavy Wind on my side."

Louise and Cattleya paled at his words and looked at her mother in shock. "You're going into battle!" They both cried out simultaneously.

Karin shrugged, looking nonplussed at their reactions. "So is your father." She said as casually as a person could. "I believe he is coming out of retirement in order to take command of the Tristainian army. It's not surprising that Pinkerton fell out of favor from his last fiasco. Still I can't help but wonder what happened to Gramont."

"I believe he's been rearranged to serve as second in command of the Third under Mad Jack." Alex answered. "He supposed to act as a liaison officer between our two forces."

"Second in command under a commoner?" Karin mused. "He won't like that."

"No." Alex agreed with a grin. "He'll hate it."

Then he turned around and clasped Saito on the shoulder. "Try to stay alive Saito. Tristain's going to need you after all this is done."

Saito sighed in exasperation. "You know we always seem to be in the worst of situations you know that. I've lost count of the number of times I've been thrown into a life or death situation ever since I came into this world. It seriously makes me want to go home. You know what I'm saying? I mean, why does all this shit happen to us?"

Alex looked at Saito and smiled knowingly. "You know Saito. I always used to always wonder the same thing. Even before I came into this world I seemed to be some kind of a bullet magnet and a fire fight junkie. After a while I just figured that the universe was a sadistic bitch with a sick sense of humor out to get me and left it at that. But you know what I realized after everything I've been through? You see… there are some things in life we can't change. You can't change the fact that you were sent to this world. You can't change that you were enslaved to a life of lethal servitude to the mage of destruction. We're ordinary guys thrown into extraordinary situations by cruel twist of fate. So all we can really do is make the decisions we can and hope we don't fuck things up too badly. That's life. Whining about the past won't help us now and there's no point in doing it. So quit your bitching Saito, we are home."

o0o

"Just so you know," Marshal Jack grumbled. "I'm not exactly happy about this arrangement either."

Beside him, General de Gramont still sulked besides the city gates waiting for the order to begin the march in silence.

"But since we're going to have to fight together over the next few days," Marshal Jack continued. "We should try to get by without killing each other. So let's sets aside our pride for a minute and actually try to work together for our mutual survival."

"My pride isn't the issue here, Marshal." Gramont snarled. "It is about the fact that you murdered thousands of my men life sheep for slaughter. You call that a battle? It was a massacre! Many of my men still suffer from the effects of your poison gas and the burns of your cannons. You think we can forget that? You think we can just forgive this?"

Marshal Jack laughed grimly. "You nobility have a funny habit where, if your men had been the ones to slaughter mine to the last man, you would have called it a glorious victory. But when we win using the same methods you call it a massacre. So if using chlorine gas isn't fair then what about magic. Is being burned alive any worse than suffering from the effects of toxic gas? I don't think so general. But remember it was your country that attacked my people. The ones who started the war have no right to complain."

"Oh, I know your kind very well." Gramont replied acidly. "A country where a mob of peasants decided that privilege was bad and where some filthy unwashed scum appointed themselves judge and jury to those who were better bred and more fortunate than themselves. You think you have the right to order me around just because some filthy peasant appointed you marshal. But I'll be damned if I ever take orders from the man that killed so many of my comrades."

Gramont turned to walk away but felt a sharp tug on his collar and jerked back to feel a stinging blow to the side of his face. It took a wobbly moment for Gramont to come to the realization that Mad Jack had hit him. He placed a hand on his bleeding lips in shock. No one had ever hit him before, not even his own father. The beginnings of outrage died before it had even begun as Gramont saw the expression on Mad Jack's face.

"And what gives you the right to be all pissed off, general?" asked Jack, his eyes burning with fury. "Because you saw your men slaughtered like that on the fields of Albion. I can understand. But you should know that my boys have been fighting through those kinds of battles for over three years now! And the entire time they painted the ground red spilling out their guts and dying by the thousands. All of that just so they regain the freedom men of your kind refused to give! More men than you would believe gave their lives for what we carry now, men like the Alger brothers, the Rangers, or even the Volunteer Regiments, CIVILIANS that picked up a rifle and gave their lives to do what needed to be done when their country needed it. And all the while I wondered when, oh god when, it was going to be my time to die! I'm sorry you had to go through that general, believe me I really am. But maybe you just had a small taste of what I've been seeing my entire life."

General Gramont looked at him with uncertainty, not daring to speak.

"Welcome to my life, general." Jack whispered.

o0o

Meanwhile in the midst of the Gallic army camp, Nivelle d'Albret, temporary commander of the Gallic forces was in a dilemma. His orders had been clear. Before leaving, Joseph had strict instructions for Nivelle not to engage the Tristainian army in a major conflict before the Gallic King returned to take command of the battle himself. Nivelle scowled at the thought. The damned king most likely wanted to take credit for the imminent victory himself. Joseph would revel in the glory of ruling over Halkeginia while Nivelle's services to the king would quickly be forgotten outshadowed by the king himself. But the situation had changed. Nivelle's scouts had returned to report that a large force of both Tristain and Albion forces were marching out of the capital that very morning. If Nivelle moved quickly he could crush the Tristianian defenders and then force a quick and timely surrender of the enemy resistance. Otherwise the battle would become drawn out siege on the Tristain capital which could only serve to use up time, resources and casualties. If Nivelle could engage and destroy the Tristainian resistance now, which he believed he certainly could, then Germania would have less time to prepare for their surprise invasion, and then they could quickly over power them as well. From there, neither Albion nor Romalia could possibly resist their might afterwards. They will have united the entire continent of Halkeginia under a single banner. The Gallic Banner. And he could be the one responsible for such a glory. Surely Joseph would forgive him for acting in the best interest of Gallia. Would it not be better to ask for forgiveness later than permission now? Nivelle's thoughts were interrupted as his deputy and second in command, Antoine de Burgundy walked in to the command tent.

"Well?" Nivelle asked. "What do you have to report?" Antoine's face screwed into an expression of distaste at the subject he was about to report.

"A large contingent of cavalry hit one of our rear supply posts this morning." He replied.

Nivelle looked up in surprise. "A large contingent?" he asked. "How many is that exactly?"

"More than four thousand horsemen were seen in that attack." The deputy told him. "They razed the fort and are now moving South, most likely in order to try to double back to their main army."

Nivelle thought carefully. "Four thousand horsemen is almost their entire cavalry force according to our information."

Antoine nodded in confirmation. "Four thousand is more than the original number we were lead to believe. At the pass there were only three thousand Albion horsemen present. I wonder why their commander would send them so far out here."

Nivelle scowled at the mention of the force that had led the constant harassing raids during that battle. "Most likely it is a diversionary tactic to cover the movements of their main army. Did you read the report about their movements yet? "

Antoine nodded. "Yes sir but there is no word of where their navy has disappeared off into."

Nivelle waved a hand dismissively. "All ships require wind-stones to function properly. Those wind stones need to be replenished between short intervals so it was only a matter of time before the enemy navy ran out of their own supply. A reliable spy has reported that the Albion Navy has indeed run out of wind-stones so their ships are useless now. Most likely they are stranded on the ground somewhere in Tristain. They'll be good prizes to capture after we win. But enough about that, tell me what you think of this little cavalry attack."

"In my opinion, they are most likely trying to launch a surprise attack on our forces. They know they cannot win even in a long drawn out siege battle so they're probably hoping to catch us out in the open in a night attack."

Nivelle nodded in agreement. "But of course now that we know about the attack we can intercept them and destroy them."

Antoine's jaw dropped in surprise. "But I thought King Joseph ordered us not to take any major action until he returned."

Nivelle stood up and faced his deputy commander directly. "King Joseph was unaware of the full situation at that time. He had assumed the enemy would have holed up in their little fortress but the situation has changed. Not acting now could seriously damage our campaign here in Tristain. For the glory of Gallia we must respond."

Antoine still looked reluctant but eventually acquiesced after careful situation. "What are your orders?" he asked.

"These cavalry you have mentioned worries me, especially since they are currently mingling in our rear lines. I want you to lead 10,000 of our Guard Knights and crush them completely."

"Our guard knights?" Antoine exclaimed, but that's our entire cavalry force! That's also more than two thirds of our mages as well!"

Nivelle nodded. "I want these enemy cavalry to be crushed as quickly as possible and 10,000 is enough to ensure victory. You are too then return to the main army where you will assist in mopping up the remnants of the enemy army."

That was a blatant lie. In truth Nivelle wanted the guards to be gone far away from the main army as possible. The loyalty of the guards lay towards the king himself and that last thing he needed was for some stuck up agitator in the division questioning his orders in favor of the king's. Besides, since the enemy would not have any cavalry either he would be at no disadvantage.

"And what of you sir?" Antoine asked.

"I'll take the rest of the army and crush the Tristainians as they cross the Rhine River. If we do they'll have nowhere to escape. We can destroy their entire army in one strike. This ends today."

o0o

The deep waters of the Rhine River looked black, their darkness heightened by the contrast of white-flecked banks. The Albion and Tristainian column had been following the sloping waterway for more than an hour now, keeping close to its west bank. Alex and Henrietta rode at the head of the column. In front of them a small hill rose up from the ground less than 2 kilometers away from the river. From a bird's eye view the hill would have been partially surrounded by the bend in the river as if the water had formed a large but crude semicircle around the terrain.

"That's the spot." Alex pointed toward the hill. "We will deploy there. It'll give us the height advantage at least and the river will help protect our flanks from the enemy."

Henrietta nodded in agreement and the order was passed down from the vanguard to the back of the column. Fairly soon the army split up into divisions and began marching towards their respective deployment areas. As Alex reached the top of the hill he frowned as he looked off into the distance towards the river.

"Why is there a bridge in the middle of the river?" he asked frowning. "It certainly wasn't on the map."

Henrietta craned her neck to see the structure in question. "It must have been made recently she answered.

"Well that's certainly a shame. Martin!"

"Sir!"

"Take an infantry squadron and burn down the bridge to our rear."

"Yes sir!"

As Martin gestured towards the nearest platoon and walked off Henrietta grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back. "What are you doing?" she hissed into his ear.

"I'm cutting off our escape route." Alex said, speaking as though it was the most obvious thing to do.

"Yes but why?"

"Well," Answered Alex, "If you recall that most of our soldiers are militia then you know that they don't have the unwavering discipline of regular soldiers so they tend to run easily. This is a trick I picked up during the revolution when I had to work with thousands of soldiers that had lower morale and less training than that of the Royalist troops. Now that our soldiers have nowhere to escape, they'll have no choice but to fight. They'll fight with the courage of madmen in order to win and live."

Henrietta felt disturbed by the by the cold logic of Alex's strategy. "Yes, well now they believe that their general is a mad man!"

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "I am one." He said. "But I think I might be able to rally them. Can you do wind magic?"

Henrietta looked surprised at the question. "Yes, a little. But why?"

"I need you to carry my voice through to the entire army. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"Good." With that Alex rode up to the front of the assembled army he could feel their eyes looking him expectantly.

"Does anyone know where we are?" he asked them, his voice echoing across to the rear most ranks of the army. "We're in hell, gentlemen. Believe me it cannot get much worse than this. Are enemy outnumbers us more than three to one. They are better equipped, better trained and better fed than we are. We are trapped between the Rhine and the enemy so that our only options now are victory or death. This is death ground. Now some of you might think we cannot win. Those same people can take their chances and try to swim across the river. A few of you may survive and make it back to your homes. Then in a few days Joseph's army will sweep across the land. His soldiers will destroy your homes and defile your wives and children. They will take whatever food and valuables you own and leave you and your families to starve throughout the winter. And then, assuming you somehow manage to survive, ask yourself if you can truly live after all that. Ask yourself if you can live without regretting the day you abandoned your comrades on this field. And I promise you that there won't be anything in this world you wouldn't sacrifice for a chance to come back here to this day in order to just to give your life for your country rather than watch it fall. Even the resolve of individual soldiers such as yourselves can change the outcome of this battle. Die with honor and leave behind a legacy of a hero! If we are destined to die either way then leave your name in history! The proud of soldiers of our countries will not die a dog's death!"

As Alex finished his speech there was no cheering or histrionics displayed by the army in front of him. Only awe and disbelief. Could it be true? Was it really possible? It seemed so unreal yet the man that spoke so confidently to them now seemed to think so. Could petty soldiers such as themselves really change this world? All they lives they have been led to believe that peasants lived only for the sole purpose of serving nobility. Yet in front of them stood a man that had torn all of that away and destroyed the social classes of his country. Yes it was possible.

The cheering began at the right most flank of the army where the Rangers had been deployed. The chanted his name rhythmically and is soon spread throughout the crowd. Soon all form of order was lost and the cheering broke out into a wild roar of indiscernible sounds. Less than four miles away, General Nivelle of the Gallic forces jerked up from his saddle, startled by the sudden sound. Logic told him he had nothing to be afraid of. After all he did outnumber their forces more than three to one. Yet despite himself he could not stop the growing coldness in his belly. The feeling called fear.