Hey everybody, back with another chapter. I know not many read this story, but it's fine. I still enjoy writing it for the few that do.
But I'm wondering if I should keep this in the Misc/FT section or just move it back into the Fairy Tail section? Let me know what you think.
Anyway! Onto the story!
Chapter Four: Battle of Avrith
H.A. 501 August 24th The Training Grounds.
Vera momentarily forgot her hangover and drumming head, the busty dark elf hearing the proposal. Body surging with excitement, she leapt at Bisca. "BISCA! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE GETTING MARRIED!" Wrapping her arms around the emerald haired woman, Vera almost sobbed. "I'M SOO HAPPY FOR YOU!"
"Yeah! This is great! You'll make a great wife to the Cremore Family!" Dia Stormclaw added, the feline mage also pulsating with joy.
"Congratulations. As a holy knight, I can perform marriage unions. I'm sure you will create many children" Celeste bowed, the blonde swordswoman showing respect and a calm demeanor.
"Ggg…get off of me!" Pushing Vera away, Bisca pointed at Nolan, the man still on one knee. "I barely know this man, let alone have any romantic feelings for him! Or have you forgotten I already have a man waiting for me back on my world!?" Spinning to properly face him, Bisca crouched down on her haunches, the unarmored woman slowly studied the man before her…then snorted.
"You'd be better marrying the elf. She has big tits, a toned body, and is skilled with swords. I'm sure she can give you a son or something"
"Are you refusing my proposal, Miss Bisca?"
"Obviously" Pinching her nose, the woman tried to reign in her annoyance at the merchant. "Listen. I'm not interested. I'm a soldier and was summoned to this world to kill the demon king. Being tied down in some…some political union or whatever your thinking will take me away from my goal of killing the bastard and finding a way back to my world" Scowling as Nolan Cremore's gaze fell, Bisca glanced around at the assembled nobles, officers, and his brother.
"Have you forgotten that a much larger nation wants to wipe yours out and enslave your citizens? None of us have time for this crap!" Stooping down, she yanked the black haired man to his feet then proceeded to jab him in the chest. "Find yourself a nice daughter of one of your merchants! Or a noble woman!" Grabbing Celeste, Bisca pushed the knight forward. "Here! She's a holy knight, beautiful, and a capable warrior! Make her your wife if your so desperate for one!" Turning, Bisca threw her arms up in anger. "Fuck! Why am I surrounded by insane people all the time!?"
Stomping toward her weapons, Bisca quickly retrieved them and all the ammo she could carry. "I'll be at the inn" Leaving the training grounds with a stomp of anger, the assembled men and women were a little stunned.
"See Nolan? This is exactly what I'm talking about. You can't just randomly propose to women who barely know you" Hermes Cremore scolded. Running a hand through his hair, the noble lord glanced at the three women in Bisca's party. "Despite her obvious anger issues, Bisca's demonstration was a success. These weapons will become the standard for Bantillian forces" Turning to a few officers displayed in heavy armor and carrying sheathed swords, Hermes put some iron into his voice. "We begin integration immediately! I want at least three regiments using these rifles as soon as possible!"
"Sir!" Saluting, the men started to turn, then stopped half step. "Uh…my lord? We could really use the hero's help in training the men"
"Right" Retraining his gaze upon the three adventures, Hermes sighed. "Could you please extend an apology to Miss Bisca about this? I warned my brother it was a poor idea, but he didn't listen. A dinner at my estate would help smooth things over I presume? After all, her knowledge of these rifles is very important"
"I'll relay your message, Lord Cremore. I'm sure she just needs some time to calm down and reign in her emotions" Celeste stated, the knight giving a respectful bow once more.
"Excellent! Now, lets get every weapon shop in the country making these wonderful firearms!" Vork? Your shop will continue to lead the effort. Work in rotating shifts if you have to, I want every soldier wielding these by November"
"Of course, my lord. We'll double our efforts with your support" Bowing deeply, the gnome knew he would become famous. "The Vork Longshot Rifle…I like the sound of that" Smiling inwardly to himself, the master smith knew business would explode in the coming days and weeks.
H.A. 501 August 30th The Haveron Border city of Frenn
One hundred thousand men marched across the border that morning, bringing war to the nation of Haveron and her allies. Crossing the wide river that divided the two nations at five different points, the Ghevanian military took nearly a dozen towns and villages in the first hours.
Mercy was not employed by the invaders as anyone that didn't escape were either killed or thrown into chains.
Homes and hamlets burned while foreign troops stole and liberated all the food they could seize. If the locals died of starvation, that was not a concern for Ghevan as they pushed along well beaten trade roads.
"Kill any who resist! Burn and enslave everyone!" A Ghevanian captain yelled out among the screams of terror, dying men, and rampant fires consuming the city. Swinging hard, he cleaved a passing old man, the blade digging deep through the shoulder as blood sprayed. Yanking it free, the captain snarled as warm blood sprayed his breastplate, coating it crimson. Running forward with some of his men, they met a few local guards. Quickly hacking them down with brutal efficiency, the invaders moved further into the city.
"No! Stay away!" A woman screamed before a solider struck her in the head, doubling the blonde over. Seeing her beauty, three soldiers grinned with malice as they quickly ripped off her clothes, their intents beastly.
"This smug bitch is gonna pay" Laughing, the three males pinned the blonde down, forcing her to comply with their hated lust.
Her screams only mixed in with the helpless populace that ran in terror, thousands attempting to flee westward.
Their efforts were futile as King Phillip and his invading army had already encircled the city, ensuring none escaped the trap.
Watching from his horse with several retainers and officers on a low hilltop, Philip Ghevan wore a dispassionate look. "Ensure any captured women are used in the brothels. Children and men will be used as slave labor"
"Of course, sire. This victory of yours was quite stunning"
"What did I say about sugarcoating your words? This was a mere border town of ten thousand with a tiny garrison. The real test will be meeting the Haveron army in battle. They will no doubt drive toward us in an attempt to throw us back across the border with their Temmol allies" He allowed a small smile, its twisted disgust vile. "They will fail"
Turning to an officer, the king's gaze was harsh. "Has General Almiss secured his objectives? And what of my second son, Henri? Has he taken the crossing at Bulvare?"
"We've received the runner just minutes ago, sire. Your son is actually ahead of schedule and took Bulvare in half a day. General Almiss is moving westward along our northern attack route. The resistance has been feeble at best"
"Excellent. Oh, and if they capture the duke's family. Bring me his wife and daughter. They'll be mine until I tire of them"
"Of course, my king" Bowing, the retainer went to complete more duties as the city of Frenn burned with screams and the dying.
Nearly six-thousand would be taken as slaves by the next morning…including the beautiful duchess of Frenn and her daughter.
H.A. 501 September 2nd. Auguith
Bisca scowled, the woman absentmindedly tugging at the dress. While it was obviously meant for a lower class noble or female of wealth, Bisca felt very weird wearing such a thing.
Colored a deep blue, it cut low to show off far more cleavage than she would like while hugging her curves. Not only that, but she knew that men were staring at her ass the whole time.
And the shoes…she hated the fucking shoes.
Then there was the fact she couldn't even bring her treasured hat.
"Why the hell did I let you convince me to wear this monstrosity?" She seethed through clenched teeth, her gaze falling upon Celeste Brightwood as the group of four females approached the outer gate of the Cremore mansion at the northern edge of the city.
Walled high with stone, it would be more accurate to call it a tiny bastion or keep judging by the defensive works, guard towers and parapet lined with pike men and archers.
"Because you're the hero and need to meet with the lords and nobles of the land. You'll no doubt have to do this again so appearances are in order. Plus, it would be extremely rude and insulting to dismiss the request considering your temperament a few days ago"
"Yeah! Plus, we're always getting covered with blood, fighting monsters, or slogging through sewers! This way I can show off my femininity" Vera Twinblade added, the dark elf striding like a lustful gazelle through the streets. Wearing something that shimmered like the stars of night, the garments were a gift from the lord.
Well, more like part of the request. It would be downright rude and insulting to show up in combat gear for a grand dinner. Hence, the four were treated to a fitting and dressing by some of Hermes Cremore's own retainers and servants.
"I think you look really pretty, Bisca" Dia commented, the feline smiling fondly. Wearing a dark purple dress that enhanced her own curves, the tail swished and twitted, making her even more attractive to several of the beastmen that they passed.
"Can't even remember the last time I wore a dress. Could've at least let me bring a gun"
"Absolutely not. You're going to be polite, hospitable, and talkative. That means no weapons" Celeste lectured with a waving finger, the group finally arriving at the gate.
Allowed entrance to the lord's home, the four walked into the main hall.
"Huh…I was expecting marble floors and gold. Not just normal stone" Vera stated in observation. Looking around, several tapestries hung from the wall, showing family crests or houses of prominent families.
Adjoining hallways led off further into the large structure, possibly the dining halls or servant quarters.
Hurried steps alerted the four women as a trio of men hurried, their footfalls almost a panic. Military officers judging by the armor and weapons they carried, one of them promptly grabbed Bisca by the hand.
"Miss Bisca! You must hurry! It's an emergency!" Not waiting for a response, the man started to drag her along toward one of the hallways on the right.
Wresting her hand away, Bisca almost summoned a magical firearm to threaten the man. She barely managed to reign in the unwanted grasp, noticing the panicked look of the three.
"Explain"
"Lord Cremore will! Please! Just follow us!"
"Of course we will follow. The church will always lend a hand or ear to those in need" Celeste bowed, the knight instantly volunteering the group. Hastening her own steps, the busty blonde made sure to drag along the hero.
Twisting halls and a few panicking guards led them to the war room of the Keep, the faces of many betraying a deep fear.
"It's war…It has to be" Bisca told herself as the officers pushed the doors open, ushering the hero and her party inside.
"Thank Lanill. You're here" Hermes stated as the lord looked down at a map table showing off the country of Bantill, Ghevan, and the surrounding regions and nations. Several higher officers, resplendent with ribbons and obvious experience surrounded the circular table, many pointing and arguing.
"It's Ghevan, isn't it? They've invaded?" Bisca asked coldly as she marched up, two men making room for her despite the dress for dinner.
"They haven't invaded Bantill…yet. But their king has just launched a massive invasion of Haveron and Temmol. The reports are sparse, but we believe he is pushing westward toward the holy city of Kalm"
"WHAT! He cannot attack Kalm! It is one of the five great cities and holds the Transport Gate!" Celeste yelled out, her face showing complete shock at the audacity of this enemy nation.
"We believe that is one of his goals. Taking Kalm will give him unprecedented leverage with the church and nearly every nation on this continent. And considering their brutality during conquest, I severely doubt that city will be spared" Pointing, his finger stabbed down along the Western border of Bantill near several small towns.
"They're massing troops along our own border as well and there isn't much we can do to stop them. Simply put, any assistance from the northern portion of our country or Valos will not arrive in time"
"Let me see" Walking around the table, Bisca found herself near the lord as her comrades followed. Scrutinizing the map, she wouldn't be surprised at inaccuracies. "Do you have an enemy estimate?"
"Not yet, but our scouts have a rough estimate of ten to twenty thousand based on the men and supplies being moved" Coughing, Hermes pointed to several of the smaller towns. "Most of these areas were already destroyed or evacuated because of the Grand Python you killed. The civilians haven't retuned yet"
"Probably a good thing" Bisca mentioned before stabbing a point halfway between Augith and the border. "Here. Well meet them in battle here. At the town of Avrith"
"Why there?" Vera asked, the dark elf not seeing why her friend suggested that spot.
Bisca glanced at the dark elf, then promptly held up a finger. "One. We don't have to worry about civilians caught in the crossfire. Two. They'll be twenty miles inside our territory which means raids on supply chains with cavalry units. Three. Its excellent defensive terrain with multiple rivers, woods, and hills. The perfect place for a killing ground. Especially with the new rifles" Idly scratching her head, Bisca momentarily looked puzzled.
"What's wrong?" Dia asked, the black mage studying the map, but really failing to understand.
"I've never really tried to plan a battle before. Sure, I've fought in lots of firefights, but planning was never my job"
"But you're the summoned hero, correct? I'm sure you'll think of something!" A captain said loudly from across the table, his square jaw and blonde hair detailing a fine upbringing.
"DON'T BE A FOOL!" Slamming her fist onto the table, Bisca's glare was filled with fresh anger and annoyance as several gasped from the outburst. "Simply putting faith in my abilities because of some damn summoning is beyond stupid! Any hero must earn the right to command! To lead! The most I've ever done is lead a simple squad!"
"Bisca. He's scared for his country. You don't have to yell" Vera tried to reason, her voice placating.
Pinching her nose, a huff of air escaped the emerald haired woman. "I know. Just all this hero crap is pointless. Hermes?"
"Yes?" The lord perked up, the noble rapt and attentive to the hero before him.
"I'll lead the rifle contingent in the center. But I doubt our enemy will wait long enough to fully re-equip and train your military. How many rifles and ammunition stockpiles can your merchant brother issue right now?"
"About two thousand for the planned regiments. I believe Vork has already stockpiled four to six thousand of the bullets"
A small smile adorned the lips of Bisca, the woman nodding in assessment. "I'll say it again. Those gnomes work astonishingly fast. Okay, make sure they keep working round the clock. Everything they can do. First thing tomorrow, those planned regiments will move out to Avrith along with any mages, archers, cavalry, and normal ground troops we can assemble. Every body we can muster to prepare defenses and trenches will be essential for our victory. Elves, half-orcs, wolfmen, women, men. I don't fucking care as long as they can aim, reload and shoot" Pointing across the table to the officer from before, Bisca's tone became like steel. "I won't presume to know how to employ regular troops. Cavalry formations are beyond my knowledge. But once we break these bastards…and we will. Your men will be needed to hunt them down and kill them!"
"You plan on routing them? That's not very honorable" Celeste warned with a stoic tone of judgement.
Bisca snorted in derision at the naïve knight. "Honor doesn't mean a damn if you're in chains or dead. Playing fair is for children and simpletons. Victory by any means is the only way to win war" Standing straighter, her cold gaze fell upon the room, the nobles and officers nodding in agreement as the enemy continued to gather at the border hour by hour and day by day.
H.A. 501 September 16th The Western bank of Avrith
Gaston Ghevan shivered under the rain, the downpour making the advance through the Bantill countryside slow, cold, and unpleasant. While his cloak did protect against the worse of it, the handsomely chiseled prince still felt the dampness in his bones.
Clutching the reigns of his horse, the first prince dismounted as the column of troops finally arrived at the outskirts of Avirth.
Most of the town was still in ruins from the Grand Python unleashed several weeks ago, its rampage across the land and town evident by flattened buildings, the rotting dead, and devastation of broken homes.
"Prince Gaston. It appears the bridge is intact across the river" Standing under the awning of a home partially caved in, General Touvald aimed his spyglass across the river to the heavily wooded hills beyond the ruined town. "Hmm…It appears Bantill has prepared some defensive works" Scanning left to right, he saw the faintest of movement among tilled earth, trenches, and hasty wooden works, each hill held by the enemy. The main road still cut Eastward toward the trade hub of Augith, cutting along the base of the nearest hill to weave through the narrow valley beyond.
"Why in the hills? Why not fight in the town?" The prince asked, the man smug…but not stupid. This was his chance to impress his father and that wouldn't happen by behaving foolishly.
"They hope to break up our formations and make us advance to them up difficult terrain. After all, battle favors the defender"
"Isn't Augith home to several weapon smiths that craft Arquebus's?"
Touvald grinned, the slender and wiry man shaking his head. "I've seen those weapons. Slow to reload, expensive, and impossible to fire in the rain. The powder gets damp and the soldier just has an expensive club. No, I'm more worried about archers or mages on the summits"
"I'm sure our own battle mages are up to the task. After all, our forces outnumber the enemy"
"That is true…" Deciding on his plan of attack, General Touvald lowered his spyglass as the rain started to let up. "I want three assault columns of five thousand men each. They'll strike at the valley and two flanking hills simultaneously after we take the town. Battle mages will be in support, providing suppressing magic to disrupt the enemy archers and the minimal fire we encounter. Once we secure the flanking hills, we can roll into the central valley and wipe them out"
"Sir!" His three colonels saluted, their armor resplendent and sheening like steel despite the falling rain and dreary day.
"Prince Gaston. You will remain with the reserve force. The fighting will cause casualties and your troops will be needed to rout our foes. Do not commit until I give the order"
"Hah! We will both gain glory today! Isn't that right, men!" Shouting, the handsomely blonde prince with a chiseled chin heard the roar of approval from nearby soldiers, the men eager to pillage the prize of Augith to the East.
This battle would be easy to them as superior numbers and skill would bring about new territory, slaves, women, and wealth.
Within half an hour, the assaulting forces began to cross the bridge over the rushing river, pushing into the deserted town of Avrith.
Bisca knew the assembled troops needed more training with the rifles, but time had been against them for the last two weeks. Honestly, she was surprised the weapon shops had managed to give them this much.
Approximately thirty two hundred troops now were equipped with rifles and nearly fifteen thousand rounds to wage war. Dug in among multiple trench lines and defensive works that surrounded the town below, the troops were divided evenly in the hopes of bringing an even amount of firepower to the Ghevanians.
Essentially, the defensive line was a rounded 'U' shape with staggered trench lines at different elevations.
An additional three thousand standard swordsmen waited among them, their purpose to engage the enemy if they got to close. Behind the curvature of the valley, a regiment of cavalry waited, a few of the officers already equipped with boltok revolvers. While not many, some already were boasting of its robustness.
Glancing left and right along the trench, Bisca had to admit the elven men and women assembled would be a boon. Most had been skilled archers, able to showcase unnerving accuracy. These rifles would only enhance that deadly skill, allowing them to reach further and strike down foes.
"Remember! Our job is to kill the officers and mages first! After that, pick targets at will!"
Most nodded, placing their rifles on the defensive logs that ran along the lip of the earthen trench. Many had grim faces, the elven sharpshooters having minimal training with the weapons as more rain fell.
"Dia. You remember your job?"
"Yes" Gripping her oaken staff tighter as the rain fell, the feline mage looked toward the bridge spanning the river, the surface already crowded with the advancing enemy.
One of twenty mages assembled along the defensive line, Dia and others were to strike the bridge, creating a hell of magics that would disrupt the rear.
"I still don't like the idea of you being at the front. As a hero, your life is far too important" Celeste Brightwood once more voiced, the blonde holy knight trying to ignore the rain and stirring mud.
"Can't just make others take the risk. Beside, I'm no hero, just a soldier" Leveling her own longshot along the log, all Bisca could smell was earth, rain, and the fear of all those around her.
Some half orcs, wolfmen, cat-folk, along with a majority of humans had answered the call, many of them obviously scared at what's to come.
Braying men, jeers, and the harsh stomping of feet mixed in with the rustling of leathers, clanking chainmail, and cursing. Marching continuously forward, thousands of men were pouring through the town.
"They're already near the town's border" Vera observed, the dark elf promising to defend her friends no matter what. Resting her palm on the blade's hilt still sheathed along her right hip, she really didn't know what to expect from an actual battle.
"I can see that…GET READY AND AQUIRE TARGETS!" Shouting the words, the call rang up and down the line, sergeants and captains preparing for the final moments. Lowering her eye to the scope of her longshot, the view rushed in. Slowly scanning, Bisca finally settled on a man in officer's armor, the sheen of steel bright along with flowering feathers in his helmet.
While no doubt necessary to identify during battle, the man stood out like a sore thumb among the common foot soldiers steadily advancing past Avrith's city limits.
The enemy continued to push through the town, its crumbling buildings and devastation adding to the sorrowful fall of rain. Splitting apart into three distinct columns, each trudging toward the surrounding hills and the outnumbered Bantillian troops.
They finally entered the killbox a minute later as the frontal columns of trudging swordmen and pikemen came within three hundred meters.
"FIRE!" Bisca roared while simultaneously pulling the trigger. Slamming against her shoulder, the sniper was satisfied as the mounted officer clutched his chest, then fell off his steed to the mud below.
Three thousand rifles barked out flashes of fire and gases, sending a hail of bullets downrange into the massed columns from three different lines of defense. Hundreds of men crumpled and fell, the bullets ripping through chainmail, plate and hardened leathers. Limbs were shattered, muscle torn, and blood sprayed as a sudden eruption of terror and death rose from the front ranks.
"FIRE AT WILL!" Bisca screamed over the drum beat of war. Working the bolt as the spent cartridge flung itself away, she slid a fresh round with the familiar motion. Aiming again, she fired at a helmeted man carrying a pike. His head exploded in a red paste of gray and bone, spreading across nearby enemy men as they tried to advance into the horrid fire.
Gunfire poured into the frontal ranks, the sharp crack of munitions wafting like a cordite stink among the defenders as they fired, worked the bolt, and fired again.
Enemy mages…those that still lived, tried to work spells, their staffs and colorful robes identifying them despite the gloomy rain pouring down from the heavens. One was in the middle of conjuring a giant ice spell, only for an elven sniper to end his chant. Blood poured from his throat, the mages head almost severed as officers tried to lead an effective charge.
"DON'T LET UP! KILL AS MANY AS YOU CAN!" Shouting those words over the cracking howl of gunfire, Bisca fired and fired, her hands a blur of motion and practiced reloading.
More Ghevanian's died under the hellish fire, the wall of lead pouring downward from the superior heights like the wrath of heaven. Hundreds upon hundreds died under those volleys, a butchery never seen before by any foe or army. The cries of wounded rose up, men clutching shattered legs, arms or being trampled to death by panicking horses or men.
"Keep advancing! We outnumber them and our honor will not be t—" General Touvald shouted from the middle of the advancing column, only to have a sniper round take off the top of his head. Brain matter splashing his nearest adjutant, the man howling in fear and rage as the beloved officer fell to the dirty road already running red.
"Charge…CHARGE! CALL UP EVERY MAN TO KILL THESE COWARDS!" Colonel Haveram shouted as his assaulting companies and regiments continued to shrink and die by the hundreds. Breaking into a run, the helmeted colonel pushed his command forward into the hellish meatgrinder.
After all, it would be better to die on the attack than to retreat and face the wrath of the king.
Vera covered her ears, the reports of rifle fire a constant thrum of noise. Hair soaking wet, her eyes brimmed at the carnage unfolding toward the front as several thousand enemy dead or wounded lay in the open fields leading toward their position.
"Your life is mine to take…" The low whisper from Bisca had the dark elf turn her head, the words momentarily forgotten as another thundering report burst from the woman's rifle. Smirking to herself, Bisca worked the bolt and acquired a fresh target. Working with the elven snipers, most had enacted a horrific toll among the enemy officers, creating an almost leaderless army.
At least, in the front ranks that were already smashed beyond recognition.
"They're charging!" Celeste warned, the holy knight almost quivering from the horrific slaughter befalling this battle. Pointing, shattered units of pikemen and sword users started to run, their charge picking up speed as they tried to close with the first line of trenches.
"Yeah. And they've just committed their reserves across the river" Reloading hastily as three thousand riflemen continued to bark death at the charging foe, Bisca resumed to fire into the mass of men.
While she was sure these tactics would work against archers or the odd arquebus forces, these officers really had no chance against a dug in enemy with modern firearms and munitions.
"Like water against a rock" Pulling the trigger again, Bisca was content with kill number twenty, the rushing man dying at the foot of the hill.
Dia Stormclaw watched the nightmarish slaughter, the feline trying not to feel pity for those men. After all, they would commit unspeakable sins against this country if given half a chance, and they deserved this fate. Casting her gaze to the bridge, it crawled with surging men as the reinforcements tried to move toward the front as quickly as possible.
"Now…Now I can do my part…" Holding up her gnarled, wooden staff, the black mage began to gather all the magic she had. Preplanned before the battle, each black mage spread throughout the defensive line would launch their most powerful attack, ensuring a sealing of the enemy forces.
Electricity began to spark at the tip of the staff among the small focusing stone, the magic gathering power as more points of light began to show themselves among the rain.
Knowing she would only get one chance, Dia pushed all her strength into this one spell under the constant snapping of rounds, screams of dying men, and the unmistakable stench of death and fear.
"THUNDERCLAW!" Pointing her staff toward the targeted bridge, a surge of electricity snapped outward, the strands of power cascading through the falling water.
"FIREBOMB!"
"ICE CLEAVER!"
"ACID ARROW!"
Two dozen mages launched simultaneously, their target the same bridge crowded with hundreds of men still pushing forward.
The magic attacks mixed upon contact, ripping through the men as their screams and howls rose. Limbs were frozen or melted, others engulfed in flame or convulsing with electricity as their eyes burst. Exploding from the titanic forces unleashed, the center of the bridge collapsed in ruin, taking practically a full company of men into the rushing river. Cascading in a small wave, several hundred soldiers were maimed or killed as fire, ice, or other elements caused a fresh hell among them.
Quickly grasping and uncorking the mana potion upon her hip, Dia quickly drank the glowing blue liquid that rapidly revitalized her magic. Pointing her staff at the charging men as rifle fire snapped and ripped through countless bodies, the purple haired mage stood firm.
"LIGHTNING BOLT!" Yelling with a hoarseness to her voice, she could barely hear herself over the constant roar of gunfire. Surging in a zig-zag arc, the spell landed among a knot of Ghevanian's. Bodies convulsing and their flesh burning from the overload of nerves, a dozen died with screams.
"Don't think about it, Dia! Just keep casting spells and stop them from breeching the lines!" Bisca roared from the left. Working the bolt of her longshot, she sniped another man, the bullet ripping through the jawbone in a helpless gurgle of crimson.
Cut off from the main army, only a mere three thousand enemy troops remained on the opposite side of Avrith as the few remaining commanders tried to think of something to do to extract their trapped forces.
Trapped between an unending, withering fire, the river, and an enemy that held the high ground among them, the nearly commanderless army did what any would do.
They attacked in desperation.
A defiant yelled poured from thousands of throats, the Ghevanians rushing across open fields and over the corpses of nearly six thousand war dead to try and reach the entrenched enemy dug in among the hills. More akin to a massed mob, they only wanted vengeance and to kill at this point, but that goal would be unachievable.
"Vera! Celeste! Pick up those rifles and fire! They reach the first trench and they can reach us! Unless you want to be gang-raped!?" Bisca howled as she placed her longshot away. Forming an emerald glowing machine gun, the magic weapon rested upon the dirty and damp log. Snarling with hatred, Bisca wasted no time as the first burst of green fire erupted from the magically formed barrel.
Tacking back and forth, the magical machine gun cut down swaths of the charging enemy, a howling nightmare of whole companies being melted away. Limbs were severed and chopped, legs maimed while torsos shredded by the hero's magic that burned through armor and flesh alike.
Vera tried to ignore the screams, the dark elf clutching the rifle nervously. Bracing it upon the log, she had taken the instructions from Bisca over the last few weeks…same with Celeste as the holy knight did the same.
Firing into the charging troops, Vera was sure a man screamed at that moment, but she really couldn't tell under the hellish staccato of pulsing light, dying men, and an unending fusillade of rifle fire that chopped and maimed without reason.
"Die…die…DIE YOU SLAVING BASTARDS!" Howling a fresh scream of rage, Bisca poured more magic into her weapon, the bursts growing faster and deadlier to chop several men in half like the grim reapers scythe.
Almost reaching the first trench line, the bodies were piling up, the resolve of doomed men dying by the hundreds.
Bantillian sword and spearmen attacked the few that breeched the first trench, chopping and hacking with a malicious glee to defend their homeland. Clangs of steel, the sounds of ripping flesh, gunfire, smoke and every hellish thing a battle entailed swirled.
"PUSH THEM BACK! FIGHT HAND TO HAND IF YOU HAVE TO!" Pushing more magic blasts into the frontal assault, green stabs of light burned through armor and flesh without a care.
"FORWARD! FOR THE GLORY OF GHEVAN!" Prince Gaston screamed, the chiseled man urging the battle forward. Gunfire ripped to his left, killing a man, but the noble was undaunted. There was only victory or death. Brandishing his sword, he jumped into the first line of trenches, killing a defender with a brutal swing that cleaved a head in two.
Brutal howls of battle enraged men surged, their weight crashing into the first trench line. Shattered units took even more losses from the flanking hills, the killing fields an unending carnage.
Bisca cut off her magic, the hero quickly grasping her lancer rifle. "DEFEND THE TRAVERSES! DO NOT LET THEM ADVANCE!" Rushing toward the perpendicular connecting trench, the roar of gunfire was constant as men and women of half a dozen races fired, reloaded, and fired with a renewed desperation.
Ghevanian troops started to pour into the first line, hacking and killing those that didn't retreat up the hill toward the second defensive line.
Bisca leaned around the corner of the trench, her face a contortion of hatred and malice. Casualties and retreating soldiers flowed past her, but thankful not shattered by defeat. Firing past a limping half-orc supported by a wolf-man still clutching rifles, Bisca killed three advancing troops struggling to climb the incline of mud, logs, and constant gunfire.
Howls of more dying men rang out, a mere addition to the all encompassing death around them all.
"RALLY BY THE HERO! SHOW HER YOUR RESOLVE!" Celeste roared as she pulled her sword, the falling rain dancing along the polished blade. Raising the point to the sky, the blonde let out a rapid prayer as Bisca fired staccatos of snapping rifle fire into the connecting trench.
"By the light of Lanill, give us your blessing and victory!" A glow erupted from the blade, encompassing the area before snapping upward into gloomy sky like a glowing lance. Falling downward, nearby Bantillian troops became enshrouded with light, the holy spell giving them a temporary protection against evil.
"Kill them all!" Rushing downward with a war yell, Bisca revved up her lancer, bringing down the spinning blades into a random man's shoulder. Protected by chainmail, the enemy howled and screamed in agony as flesh ripped and shred while sparks and shards flew.
Men and women fired into the crowded trenches, a bellowing cracking of deafening noise as Bisca kicked the bloody viscera away.
"I've got your back!" Swinging her twin blades, Vera decapitated a man aiming to skewer her friend, stopping the attack.
Dia breathed heavily, chugging down the mana drink before raising her staff. While nowhere near enough to replenish her fatigue, it would keep her in the fight as she stood upon a log.
"Lightning bolt!" Cascading electricity slammed into the overrun trench, jumping between a dozen man as they screamed in convulsions.
"I will not see the hero fall today! Yarrghh!" Swinging hard and wide, Celeste's blade dug into an enemy swordman, ripping open his stomach as entrails spilled into the blood soaked earth.
Bisca only saw red…her mind going back to equally viscous warfare against the horrid men of Earthland 877-X. Cutting through another enemy that sprayed a crimson hell against her armor, the woman didn't even feel the flecks splattering against her chin.
"Die…Die…DIE YOU FUCKING RAPISTS!" Losing herself in rage, Bisca ran her lancer through another man, ripping upward as his chest split in half. Bone chips and flesh sprayed, but she was already killing the next man, putting four rounds into his head as she lead the way to retake the trenchline. Men and women poured around her, buoyed by her charge to meet the enemy.
An enemy man fell, crying from a gunshot wound to the abdomen as combat swirled around them in a frenzy of war.
"Slaver filth…" Raising her lancer, she plunged the spinning blades into the prone man, creating another hellish spray of carnage. Ripping it free with, the woman was half covered in warm gore that had splashed against her boots and greaves.
"DIE YOU BITCH!" a captain yelled, his own face covered with blood and scratches. Swinging his sword, it sparked off of Bisca's armor, leaving a furrow of gouging that dragged past the breastplate like a warped scar.
"SLAVER!" Roaring in uncontrolled rage as her vision swam with red, she shot the man in the crotch, eliciting a fresh wave of screams as he fell. Attempting to crawl away, the man felt his arm gripped as Bisca stared down like the demon king. Only rage filled her vision, the woman quickly pulling as the dying man screamed.
Flesh ripped, the limb pulling free in a spray of crimson as several Ghevanian's paused, their eyes filled with fear at the brutal execution unfolding before them all.
"Run…RUN! RUN FROM THE HERO!" Several screamed, two of them immediately cut down by elven sharpshooters. Turning, one was impaled through the back as a familiar ripping of sound echoed across the nearby battlefield.
"No escape…ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!" Lifting the man up as her biceps and muscles strained with the held lancer, he came apart in a shower of ripped viscera and spraying muscle, showering Bisca in a wave of blood among the falling rain.
Prince Gaston stared, the handsome man feeling a sense of fright from the bloodsoaked sight standing among a pile of his men. Lips quivering, his pride…his sense of duty and nobility left him as her gaze slowly turned his way.
"Slaver…"
"Re…RETREAT! SAVE YOURSELVES!" Climbing out of the trench, Gaston was horrified by the stampeding sound of approaching cavalry coming from the valley road. The disaster became a rout as Bantillian cavalry smashed into the center forces, the invaders already breaking.
Officers on horseback hacked and stabbed…shot with their new Boltok revolvers into the retreating mass trying to fall back to the river.
"No mercy, men! We will not take prisoners today!" General Moonleaf shouted, waving his boltok in the rain before aiming and killing a fleeing man. The revolver barked three more times, striking down two more as the officers led their men into the fray with a roar of war. Pulling his family blade from its scabbard, the steel almost glinted a pure white as the elf swung downward to kill another enemy.
"Miss Bisca! Let them rout the enemy! You've done enough!" Celeste shouted as she grabbed and spun the half manic woman. Dripping with sweat, grime and flecks of blood, the holy knight had never strayed more than five feet from Bisca.
A sense of familiarity fell upon her gaze, the emerald hero recognizing Vera, Dia and Celeste. Mind reeling from the temporary blood-rage, she breathed in the stink of blood, loosened bowels, and fear that permeated the killing grounds.
Flinging off the armored hand, Bisca turned to the advancing troops with a snarl. "FIX BAYONETS! EVERYBODY FIGHTS! KILL THEM ALL!" Roaring the words, she approached a dying man laying near a pile of bodies, his arm overhanging the trench. Raising a boot, she crushed his head in splatter of crunching bone.
Companies of swordmen and Bantillian riflemen began to push forward, their steel glistening in the rain. Men and women…elves and cat-folk. Even dwarves and half orcs advanced, skewering or killing wounded or fleeing.
Shattering gunfire erupted, punching into the retreating backs of Ghevanian troops trying to reach the river in desperation. Taking a knee, Bisca snarled out a curse then fired a full magazine into the retreating invaders.
Several tumbled to the corpse strewn dirt, already have thrown away weapons in a mad attempt at escape.
Not that it mattered to Bisca.
Standing upright once more, she advanced with the men and women, killing and executing all those deemed as an enemy.
Vera's hand shook, a tremble of frayed nerves. Trying to hold her hand still, the dark elf barely felt the falling rain as the cries of wounded men were constantly silenced. Pleads of mercy fell upon deaf ears, the slaughter continuing. Casting her gaze across the low hills, sparse woods and open fields leading to the town, all she could feel was sickness.
The overwhelming scent of copper, soiled pants, sweat, and desperate fear overwhelmed the woman as thousands of broken and twisted bodies lay where they fell. Brutalized by rifle fire, magic and sword, ghastly remains lay still in all manner of gnarled death. Sinking to her knees, Vera wanted to cry at the suffering…the…the butchery.
"This is awful. Monsters I can handle. Or bandits. But this was like the wrath of gods slaying mortals"
A gloved hand fell upon Vera's shoulder, flecks of gore covering the material as Bisca looked down at her with a hard stare. Flinching as another massed volley ripped into the retreating enemy, Bantillian forces pushed forward in a firm line. Stabbing and skewering of the mortally wounded was rampant, the begging for mercy falling upon deaf ears.
"Bisca…this was…this was a slaughter"
"Don't give them pity or your sorrow. These men intended on enslaving this land, and women like yourself or I would no doubt be used for their amusement. …I've fought their kind before…on a different world. This land will be better without them" Crouching down, Bisca came eye level with her friend, rainwater dripping off of her cowgirl hat that sluiced down her gore coated armor. "The first battle is always the hardest…the worst. I understand what your feeling" Standing up, Bisca narrowed her gaze as the first friendly forces pushed into Avrith.
"Ensuring their destruction now is paramount. The effect on morale will be devastating in the coming battles" Her voice became like steel. "The more we kill now, the better"
"R…right" Trying to put on a brave face, Vera fell in line as Celeste flanked Bisca, the holy knight never lowering her guard. Dia lagged behind, the black mage knowing her primary task was done. Almost tripping over a man chopped in half, the bodies were almost two high as the feline mage gulped a heavy dose of saliva.
"Is this what war's like on Bisca's world?" The image made the purplette shudder as her gaze fell upon the landscape.
Like a hellish carpet of corpses that covered the surrounding land.
Ghevanian men flung themselves into the river, discarding weapons and armor in desperation as the bridge still burned. With no escape, some tried to still fight, but they were mercilessly cut down with unbridled savagery.
The Avrith pocket shrunk minute by minute, the losses today a shattering loss as the rifle regiments encircled the city. Firing a staggered line of fusillades, the roar of gunfire was deafening as swordsmen and cavalry kept the ring sealed of any breakouts.
Prince Gaston crawled through the living room of a half destroyed home, his leg a shattered mess. A trail of crimson dragged behind him, thick and copious among the leaking holes in the home. Crying from the agony, he tried to treat it somehow…but he knew it was futile.
The cries of dying men echoed from outside…along with that hellish gunfire.
"What…what happened? How? Where did they get such wea..weapons?" Grunting as pain flared through his leg, he gasped as the firing and screams seemed to slow.
Approaching footsteps made him grasp his sword tightly, the handsome man struggling to stand.
A figure appeared in the doorway, a haunting visage of a wide brimmed hat, blue tinted armor splashed with gore…and female. Emerald hair flowed behind her, drenched with moisture and grime.
Dropping the sword, Gaston raised his hands. "I'm the prince! I sur—"
Bisca shot the man in the face, a tendril of smoke wafting from the barrel of her lancer as his corpse fell with a thud. "Clear! Move to the next house!"
"Right away, Miss Bisca!" several soldiers yelled as they began to mop up enemy forces in Avrith.
Three hours later…
General Moonleaf, a high level noble of the same elven house set up his command post in the former trade guild of the town, its damage minimal compared to most of Avrith. Having a commanding view of the half collapsed bridge, river and western bank from the third floor, his attention soon turned to the officers before him.
With high cheekbones and blonde hair that almost sheened silver, along with an excellent education, the elf was satisfied of his conduct today.
While he had deep reservations about the hero, Bisca and her newfangled weapons, the results spoke for themselves.
It was a new era of war, and he would make sure to be at the forefront.
Passing his gaze from the green haired woman and her three companions, he eyed the colonel before him. Standing nearly six and half feet tall, the lion-man with bright orange fur and a mane of tufts stood erect, his uniform still showing several tears and spatters. A few cuts could be seen, the light wounds treated by healers.
"Report, Colonel Carmine"
"General. We've fully secured the town and surrounding areas. Two of the rifle regiments are facing the river, keeping watch for the enemy, but the severed Ghevanian units appeared to have fled. An estimated eight to twelve hundred dove into the river and our men are already finding bodes down river. Our own losses are estimated to be about fifteen hundred, including wounded"
"And the enemy casualties?"
Smirking a smile fit for the king of the jungle, Colonel Carmine's ears twitched in accomplished triumph. "Nearly twenty thousand. These new rifles and revolvers were beyond effective. Not only do they work in all manner of weather, but even the rawest recruit could wield them with efficiency. Coupled with our defensive works and elevated lines, the enemy was forced to cross a killing field and advance upslope" Extending a furred paw, he indicated Bisca and the others. "The hero herself led the charge to push the Ghevanian's from our lines. From rough estimates, Miss Bisca killed several hundred with her magical abilities and ferociousness"
While not normally one to smile and gush, Greenleaf could admit that this victory had been astounding. Standing up, the elven officer strode to the broken window, his ears picking up the grunting of men trying to clear the bodies. "This was an astounding victory for Bantill. Not only does it give us breathing room, but it will allow Valos to send their army as well in support. However, we cannot sit here and allow our enemy to gather their strength for a fresh attack upon us. We should strike them now, while we have the advantage"
"I'd advise against that" Bisca stated, the heavily armored woman leaning against the wall.
"Oh? And why is that? Shouldn't we pursue to re-take our territory?"
"Not when most of our ammunition is gone. That battle burned through ninety percent of our current stocks. While I'm sure weapon's smiths are making more as we speak, I'd suggest replenishing supplies, equipping more men with rifles, and training in the use of said weapons. Not only that, but when we do attack in force with Valos, we will need some siege cannon for breaking down city walls"
"Siege cannon?" Dia inquired, the cat woman cocking her head to the side in question.
"Think of it as a large, super gun for knocking down walls of stone or buildings. Can't make the artillery I'm used to, but it will be a game changer here. Get a few dozen of those built and Ghevanian cities will fall quickly" Looking at the general, Bisca placed a hand upon her temple, the fatigue of the battle wearing her down. "I understand that you want to bring about a swift war, but the enemy is bigger than this country. We need time to build up and for your allies to arrive. But if you want to order an attack with exhausted troops low on supplies, don't let me stop you"
Turning his gaze back to the blood soaked street below, Greenleaf nodded. "Very well. You are the one familiar with this new type of war. I'll take your advice…for now. However, I will unleash a few cavalry companies to harass the enemy"
Celeste planted a gauntleted hand upon Bisca's shoulder armor, the blonde knight still sporting several blood spatters, dents and abrasions to her full plate that covered her flesh. "Miss Bisca. The day has been long. You should eat and rest"
A small nod of agreement escaped the woman. "Yeah. I'm sure we all could. Let's try to find a place in one of these houses" Turning, Bisca gave one final wave to the general and colonel. "I'll draw up plans for a cannon tonight. I'm sure your king and superiors will find them fascinating" Leaving, the two officers were silent as the rain continued to fall on the corpse choked streets of Avrith.
"Come on…just a few more feet" Bisca urged as she carried a corpse with Dia out of the half broken home. Grunting with exertion as a few other female soldiers helped, the group carried out the grisly task with curses and complaint.
"This is so gross" The cat woman added, her gloves now slick with gore from the deceased as her tail flicked back and forth.
"Try to think of it as minimal house cleaning. Unless you want to sleep in a home filled with bodies?" Bisca added with a grunt. Dropping the body in a pile on the road, it thudded and lightly rolled.
"I think I'm going to throw up" Vera gulped, the dark elf carrying…half a man that had been cleaved in half. Some of his intestines dragged upon the ground and over the road, adding a trail she didn't want to follow.
Celeste was equally as pale, the poor knight hefting the legs as she exited the two story home missing parts of its roof. Tossing the remains, both women drew an obvious sense of relief that the clearing of bodies was done.
"Better him than you" Walking back into the home that lined the street, the group of four women had the luxury of getting their own room for the night for the simple fact Bisca was the hero. Other homes and businesses were already bursting at the seams with soldiers taking up rooms and beds as others continued to clear the streets of the dead.
Vera sat down with an exhaustion, the hardened floor almost a relief to being on her feet all day. Thankful that the home still had a functioning shower with a water magic core, each of the women had taken turns cleaning off the blood, grime and stress of the day's events. Taking out her twin swords, Vera began cleaning them with a rag of cloth, making sure the blades were ready for the next fight.
Glancing around the main living room of the home, splashes of blood lined the floors and walls along with bullet damage pocking the surfaces of molding and other surfaces. Overturned furniture and scattered belongings indicated a desperate last stand. A staircase to the left led to the upper floors, its age and use showing weathering of years.
A few low conversations between a silver wolf woman with tufts of fur still mangy and a brunette soldier, along with another dozen females made the horrors of the day slightly less bearable…but not by much.
"Bisca…how can you act like you don't care about all those that died?" Looking over to the hero, Bisca was at the stove, its magical core now brimming with fire as she started to prepare a stew in a large pot. Still dressed in her combat armor, the woman had managed to clean a majority of the ichor away. This only revealed numerous new abrasions, gouges, and deep fissures that dragged randomly across the chestplate, shoulder guards and other pieces of her gear armor.
Looking up from her stirring, the woman's gaze was almost blank. "Because I don't? They tried to invade…to kill and enslave. Men like that will receive no mercy from me. If they had captured you, I'd bet all my bullets and guns they'd have raped you then and there. Same with all of you" Pointing the spoon at Dia and Celeste sitting on a worn couch, Bisca continued. "In fact, I don't even see them as human. Just monsters that need killing. But if that doesn't help you, think of all the innocent lives you helped protect today" Going back to stirring the stew, Bisca went quiet as did Vera, the dark elf just wanting to forget the screams ringing in her ears.
"I for one am glad we crushed their invasion so thoroughly. Killing them now just means they have less to use later" A slim, blonde elf woman added. Going by the name of Albina, she had been one of the snipers, enacting a viscous toll upon the Ghevan officers earlier that day.
"Well said" Bisca concurred before going back to stirring the stew.
Celeste Brightwood stirred, the woman having cleaned up herself. Brow furrowed, she had faced battle before as a holy knight. But those were against monsters and those deemed in need of judgement. Not massed soldier's intent on conquest. "Miss Bisca? Are battles this ferocious back on your home world?"
"They're usually worse and far larger" Continuing to stir the stew, the woman remained silent as a few other female warriors found jugs of water. Not fancy, it would do as the aroma of the large meal started to make several stomachs rumble.
"Are we going to fight in the next one? Dia inquired as the feline mage leaned forward, her shirt hugging the large breasts she was endowed with. Purple strands of her hair fell in the familiar ponytail, resting near her left bosom as her chest rose and fell with a slight movement. Having already cleaned her leathers, she would adorn them later.
"Our goal it to reach Kalm and use the magical transport gate to reach the continent of Lanis to reunite Miss Bisca with the other heroes. Ghevanian troops will be in our way. We will either fight them or go around them. But with them attacking several countries at once, that will be problematic" Celeste quickly informed, the knight's voice full of confidence in her mission.
"What if Kalm is overrun by Ghevan?"
"Impossible. Kalm is the holy city of the Basill continent. To even wage war against it is sacrilege"
Bisca handed a bowl of pipping hot stew to Celeste, then the two others before taking a seat in a battered chair nearby. With the meal done, many of the waiting soldiers quickly helped themselves, their hunger palpable among the ruined debris of the first floor.
"Don't be so sure. That's only from your perspective as a holy knight of the church. I doubt the Ghevanian king cares about sacrilege or any of that. He wants territory, power, and wealth. Kalm sounds like it represents all three. If he were to take and hold it, many countries would find themselves under the shadow of a mad king" Bisca spooned a mouthful of vegetables and meat into her mouth, chewing with a gusto before continuing. "Unless of course, he simply sacks the city to prevent anybody from using it"
"He wouldn't! That's…that's impossible to think about!" Celeste added.
Bisca looked over at the blonde, then slowly spooned another morsel into her mouth.
"We just handed him a horrible loss though. I doubt he'll just shrug it off, especially when word of new weapons reaches him. King Ghevan might destroy Kalm just to spite everybody, or because he needs to destroy the possibility of reinforcements from his enemies" Vera whispered, the elf still struggling with the day.
"Still, what your suggesting would be the highest crime against the church and teachings of Lanill. To even consider it is horrible" Raising herself straighter, Celeste puffed out her chest. "Rest assured Miss Bisca and companions. The city of Kalm will be welcoming us with open arms after Valos and Bantill defeat king Ghevan and his horde of rabble"
Bisca cocked an eyebrow at the overly confident knight, doubting anything would be that easy or simple. Taking another spoonful of stew, she continued to eat as a fresh rain began to fall upon the land.
H.A. 501 September 18th Capital City of Bantill
Clamoring forges belched smoke, the acrid smell of smelting steel filling the air of the kingdom's capital. Other rampant stenches of rapidly advancing industry were supported by magic professionals as the new rifle technology spread to every forge and weaponsmith under royal decree.
Guards marched through the streets, maintaining a semblance of order as the news of war quickly spread among the city of over one hundred fifty thousand.
Walled with stone like many others, Bantill had developed among the soft rolling hills of the land. Cut into three parts by a forking river, the castle rested at the fork. Naturally surrounded on two sides by the wide expanse of churning water, the fortress-palace inside the city would be a tough nut to crack for any invader.
A garrison of royal guards kept watch from the parapets, manned by archers and swordsmen who had more than proven their worth to the kingdom. Jutting spires speared the sky, overshadowing the smaller homes, businesses and local noble estates that crowed the roads of Bantill.
Piercing cracks reverberated from the enclosed courtyard and guards training grounds as a heavily bearded man stood to the side among several retainers, allied officers from Valos, and advisors. Dressed in fine clothes and his shoulders draped by a cloak, King Bantill watched as the soldier lowered the weapon to a safer position.
"What a remarkable firearm. And your country just started to craft them?" Ambassador Kirvon asked, the representative from Valos flanked by a military advisor who almost salivated at the rifle.
"Yes. From what I understand, the tenth hero blessed our nation in time of need with her assistance. Summoned from another world with weapons such as these, she allowed some of our most skilled craftsmen and gnomish smiths to begin constructing more. My own generals have stated this will change war forever" Casting a sidelong look as the sun gleamed off his crown, the king managed to hide the panic in his heart.
No word of the battle had reached him yet and the possibility of defeat was high. The only thing he could do was wait, build up military strength, and hope Valos reinforcements would arrive before Ghevan overran his country.
A commotion of shouts erupted from the nearby gate, several guards shouting at a man on horseback who pushed through in haste.
"MY KING! WORD FROM GENERAL GREENLEAF!"
"Let him through!" A bellow rife with authority, the guards stepped to the side as the exhausted traveler rode up, his steed showing exhaustion as well. Stopping with a kick of dust and jumping off in one fluid motion, the man bowed and removed a sealed parchment from a leather bound sleeve. "My king. A message"
Taking the paper, Louis Bantill quickly ripped past the red seal, his impatience preventing the normal retainer from opening it for him. Ignoring the strange plans attached on the second sheet for some sort of presumed weapon, the ruler scanned furiously as his stoic face quickly drew into an all encompassing smile.
"They won…THEY WON! General Greenleaf reports over twenty thousand enemy dead or missing! Bantill losses barely a thousand! He praises the defensive posture implemented by Bisca the Troll Slayer and credits her for leading the counterattack to push them from our lines. He implores that the 'Vork Longshot rifle' be wielded by every soldier for the eventual invasion of our enemy!" Full of absolute joy, the king continued to read as officers, nobles and the allied diplomat all let out their own congratulations.
"What's this?" Studying the attached drawings of blueprints, he quickly grasped what the long barreled weapon was for despite his lack of engineering knowledge.
'Siege cannon'
"Minister of War! Get these new cannon into production immediately! And make sure our trusted allies of Valos, whom have been our brothers in arms for generations get copies of these armaments! Not only for the threat of Ghevan, but the demon hordes they face!"
"Yes sire!" Overcome with excitement, the craggy looking, but experienced minister took the parchment, preparing to protect it with his life while rushing away.
"Now, spread the word to the people! Their brave soldiers have not only protected Augith to the south, but turned back the enemy with horrendous losses! A true day for celebration!"
"Hail the Hero, Bisca the Ranger! Bisca the Troll Slayer!" A guard shouted, the woman's fame quickly spreading to all corners of the land.
"HAIL!"
Cheering, the city of Bantill soon was enthralled with celebration as the war news turned in their favor.
H.A. 501 September 25th Holy city of Kalm
Magical fireballs and explosive spells smashed against the ancient stone walls of Kalm, scattering bits of blessed fragments in cascading blasts. Having been countlessly blessed and cast with protection after layered protection by the city's holy priests of Lanill, even the most powerful battle mages wouldn't be able to knock down those towering walls within a day.
Encamped among the rolling hills of fertile farmland that surrounded the city, his men had gladly forced the local farmers to begin their fall harvests. Mills poured out bread for the siege army while those that refused were quicky brought to the sword or simply taken into slavery.
Several abandoned homes had been turned into brothels, using recent females captured during the advance across Haveron.
Their cries and moans were easily heard, none given a proper amount of time to rest as soldiers took advantage of the siege to enjoy an enslaved woman.
Of course, the battle against the Haveron and Temmol armies had been bloody, resulting in nearly ten thousand Ghevanian war dead and wounded. But, the victory was theirs as the enemy turned away in defeat after the loss at Jilan.
This left nearly forty thousand men to surround Kalm, bringing it under siege as the war mages continued their bombardment. While the possibilities of catapult were there, King Phillip had decided against them, his mages far more effective and less time consuming.
Watching the continued ravaging of the stone walls that protected the holy city of temples, riches, and the vitally important Transport Gate located in the Kalm Cathedral, Phillip sat in a chair, sipping on a glass of red wine. Behind him was his personal tent, populated by the duke of Frenn's buxom wife and daughter.
Smirking at their remembered pleads and cries, Phillip had thoroughly enjoyed them that he decided to make them his travelling whores. Of course, once he tired of them, he would simply turn them over to some common soldiers to slake their own lust.
Scowling at the subtle movement of an adjutant holding a piece of paper, the young man cleared his throat. Receiving consent to continue from the king, the messenger spoke.
"My lord, General Almiss reports the fall of several smaller towns. He is now besieging the trade city of Raville to the north with his army. Your second son, Henri has secured great portions of Haveron's grain lands. They will come as a great relief to our people. Currently, he is laying siege to the Bastion of Kanvil near the southern border. He claims to have trapped an army of nearly fifteen thousand within its walls"
Phillip snorted, having once visited Kanvil. No army had ever taken that fortress literally dug into the Hammer mountains and his son would be no exception. But, at least Henri had taken his objectives with great efficiency and performed dutifully.
"Excellent. I dare say that these victories would not be possible without the demon king. Perhaps I should send him a gift? After all, with Valos weakened, Bantill will have no chance. Their rich lands will be ripe for the taking under my third son, Gaston" Smirking at his own reasoning, several retainers allowed brief chuckles to escape. Taking another sip of wine, Phillip contemplated ravaging the princess of Frenn again in front of the whore mother.
A horse man galloped up, the helmet sheening under the sun. His armor was pitted and dented, marred by several gouges and caked with mud. Dried blood clung to his face and beard, the messenger showing a vast horror. "MY KING! MY KING! DISASTER!" Shouting the words, the man barely managed to dismount his horse with the ravages of exhaustion.
"What!?" Disbelief soured his voice, Phillip immediately standing as his mages continued to bombard Kalm's walls. Immediately clamping down on his tongue, the king knew war was not without risks. "Speak" Uttering the command, the soldier bowed, taking a knee with the utmost respect he could muster as his breathing became ragged.
"Sire! The Bantill invasion force has been shattered! The battle of Avrith was a trap! The…the Bantillian's have new rapid firing arquebus's! A single man now has the strength of five or ten! They dug in and slaughtered us along with their own battle mages! We barely breeched their first line before we were pushed back!"
Glaring downward at the kneeling man, Phillips eyes darkened. "What of Gaston, my son? When will the counter-attack commence to take Avrith?"
"Sire…I had not heard word of the prince upon my departure. I fear he has fallen. As for the counter-attack…there is nothing to counter attack with. Our reserves were committed and fewer than three thousand survived the battle"
"W…what?" King Phillip was stunned. While he had planned for setbacks or defeat in some theaters, this was akin to complete rout of his forces. To think that his son, and nearly the entire force sent had been destroyed was almost unthinkable.
"Sire, you cannot believe this common messenger. He has to be mistaken. Even with the use of arquebus rifles, they are simply too few to matter on a proper battlefield" An advisor stated, his weasel like pinched face and bowl cut hair adding to the sense of his importance despite his haunted appearance.
"Silence!" Looking back at the city of Kalm, several points of the defensive walls were started to crack, showing progress as the shout quickly abated.
There was no way he would abandon this prize despite a loss.
"I want General Almiss to abandon his attack at Raville. He is to immediately launch an invasion of Bantill. I want Augith crushed before Valos manages to send reinforcements. Speed is off the essence. Capturing of these new…Bantill rifles is also essential"
"Sire" Men and retainers scurried to carry out his new orders and draft parchment for the general to the north.
Grunting as his mood soured, King Phillip took one more glance as another piece of Kalms defensive walls crumbled from an explosive fireball. Swaying with bottled anger, he stepped into his personal tent.
Two blonde women were there, both nude, terrified and exhausted. One was older, near forty but still attractive. The other was the daughter, her slim waist and large breasts bare to the king. Both bowing their heads, the mother spoke.
"How ca—"
"Shut your mouth, whore" Marching over, he undid his belt and shoved his stinking cock into her mouth, not even letting her utter another word. Pumping his hips, he angrily face fucked the former duchess of Frenn as the woman choked and teared at the eyes.
The daughter cried nearby, knowing that she would be next.
"STOP YOUR FUCKING CRYING! Your next anyway and your used to it! Cry one more time and I'll turn you over to my men!" Pushing his cock all the way down the mother's throat, Phillip relished in the power and fear he had over the two as his sweaty sac rested against her chin.
Finally releasing the whore mother, he allowed her to breathe before grabbing the back of her hair and ramming his member down her throat once more. Spluttered gurgles made him smile, each pump of his hips making him forget the sour mood he had.
"Fuck" releasing the mother after a few minutes of effort, Phillip quickly grabbed the daughter, pinning her down before sliding inside her nether region in a familiar ravaging of the princess. She cried softly, but Phillip simply enjoyed the sound, his dark soul never questioning his right to defile.
Barking out a laugh as he fucked the captured princess, his grin grew into a smile. General Almiss would bring him victory and Ghevan would rise to become a true power of the continent.
Continuing to fuck the younger whore, Phillip lost himself in the savage act as his mages continued to bombard the walls of Kalm in a non-stop assault, the soundwaves crashing across the land as several fires started to break out in the city itself.
501 H.A. September 26th Western Bantill Border Crossing. Village of Ponte
The border churned with rushing water, the river a natural break between the two warring countries. Moderately swift, deep, and now growing colder with autumn, it would be an excellent defensive position as the modest village rested along the banks. Surrounded by a thick forest, the smell of foliage and moss was thick despite the massed army of nearly ten thousand encamping in the area.
Once housing nearly fifteen hundred, the citizens had fled before the war even started, knowing the terrible fate if captured. Homes were billeted to officers and soldiers, mainly a first come first serve type of organization.
While the potential for trade and commerce was there, the hostile nation to the west crushed any of those notions years ago.
Now, the stone bridge crossing the expanse was under the watchful gaze of General Greenleaf and his army, many of them replenished with fresh rations, supplies, and vital ammunition. Another two regiments had arrived, their training hasty and rushed. A mixture of pikemen and riflemen, they were rapidly integrated into the ongoing effort to fortify the Eastern bank of the river.
"DIG! If you want to avoid enemy arrows and survive some of their spells, DIG! YOUR LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT!" Roaring the words, Bisca tossed the dirt overhead to the front of the growing trench line as hundred of soldiers worked side by side. Rampant cursing, sawing of logs and trees, along with the grunt of exertion reigned as the army dug and dug through the land in an effort to prepare in time.
"Ahhh! Bisca! This suckssss!" Vera wailed. Throwing her own shovel of dirt, the dark elf was sweating from the effort as her hands gripped the wooden shaft. Leaning in, she scooped up another pile of dirt to throw toward the front of the trench.
Bisca ignored the cries of her friend. Instead, she climbed to the top, pointing at a wolfman and a hulking half orc. Both were carrying a large log, cut to length as they grunted. "Over here! Line the front of the trench along the bank! It may not be much, but it could stop arrows from the enemy!"
"Bisscaaa! Can't we let someone else diggg?"
"It's not that bad, Vera" Dia commented as the purple haired feline walked up, her leathers fully cleaned and devoid of dirt.
Vera scowled, her jealousy instantly growing. Heaving another shovelful of dirt, the busty elf was very aware of some nearby men catching a glimpse of her sizable breasts that tried to escape her leather armor. "Easy for you to say. You've been helping establish firing lanes for the riflemen"
Dia shrugged, the feline's tail idly twitching then coiling around her slim waist. "Bisca says its important. That way, regiments and companies can bring more concentration on certain sectors of the far bank"
"She should be staying at the rear. Miss Bisca is putting herself at risk. Especially when Ghevan launches a fresh attack. It's already a problem she ignored my warnings during the last battle"
Vera cocked an eyebrow, studying the blonde holy knight that had suddenly appeared. "What are you talking about? You barely did anything. Only stayed by her side as she went on another killing spree of madness"
"My words of caution were ignored by a strong willed woman. Plus, she's the hero. Trying to control Miss Bisca is futility"
"You would've had to cut me down or throw me in shackles. I would never allow a rabble of slavers to bring their evil to any land" Standing at the edge above, Bisca looked down with a stern glare. Clenching a fist, she turned toward Ghevan, her gaze becoming hateful against the tree lined far shore. "All slavers must be exterminated"
Knowing full well the brutality the emerald haired woman could bring, the trio continued with their tasks as the Bantillian forces continued to prepare defenses and accumulate supplies, troops, and everything they would need to crush this hated foe.
So I think that's a good cut off point. If I go further I risk having a 20k chapter haha. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and let me know if I should put this back in the Fairy Tail section or leave it here in Misc Crossover.
And if your concerned about quests and all that, this war will be short and the team will be back earning gold, traveling to Lanis and all that. Plus, hopefully in…three chapters I could have Goblin Slayer make an appearance.
Anyway, read, review and enjoy!
Thehappy