Chapter 15 – Battle of Tarbes Pt 2

Here is chapter 15. This chapter shows what Mikhail was doing when the events of the last chapter had transpired. It also reveals a bit of his history before becoming the Seneschal. Not much else to say. So yeah.

As always, read, comment, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon's Dogma or Familiar of Zero.

Tarbes

Mikhail watched his wife salute to him just like in the old days. He suppressed a smile that was beginning to come onto his face from the memory and strode off. The Tristanian Army did not have enough numbers to win this battle. Even if everyone in the army were extremely skilled, overwhelming numbers has a strength all to its own, one that is not easy to overcome.

'Rex Victoriae… only she would remember that,' Mikhail thought. It had been far too long since he had last been called that. It had also been too long since he last did what he was about to do. Still, that only presented a chance for him to flex his muscles a bit.

Mikhail walked through the village, watching the villagers set up barricades. He stopped to help out here and there, but steadily made his way to an unlikely weapon. Unfortunately, he witnessed an accident and decided to help out, thus delaying him from his destination. After healing the injured person, he was requested to heal the other injured volunteers as well. Well, all that he really needed to do was cast a Grand Anodyne and the villagers could step into the healing sigil whenever they need.

After decades of experimentation, Mikhail had created a system where he could continue feeding the spell with energy while in a different location. This eliminated the need for recasting the spell and also allowed him mobility while maintaining the spell almost indefinitely. However, this also had some draw backs as well. The most important was that it required mana, a lot of it. He speculated that the average mage could only maintain the spell for about a minute past the spell's natural duration before being drained of mana. Luckily for him, Mikhail had absolutely an astronomically huge mana reserve thanks to his prolonged exposure to the Rift and the Throne; in other words, he could power the spell for a long, long, long time.

A second draw back to the system was that he is unable to utilize any of his other spells when it was active. This also includes changing Vocations, meaning that he if he wants to keep the spell going, then he has to stay as a Mage until he reverts back to being a Sorcerer.

Deciding to keep the spell active, Mikhail described the properties of the spell to the people and then resumed on his march. Along the way, he had met Tabitha and Kirche, who had decided to help prepare the village. Mikhail directed them towards the areas that needed the most aid after learning about the situation. Suddenly, the ground started to shake even more. He looked over at the enemy army and saw that they were beginning their attack. On the other side, the Tristanian Army also started to move.

The village guards started to shout out for an evacuation, leading the men towards the nearby forest. An advanced group from the Tristanian Army arrived soon after to help in the evacuation. The white-haired man spotted the two girls again and was relieved that they were not as impulsive as his Master. They were leaving with the villagers.

The battle was going to begin soon. This prompted Mikhail to sprint towards his destination, opposite of the forest. After several minutes of running, he reached it. The Rift Stone. As he placed his hand on it, he felt the nostalgic thrumming of mana inside the stone. He cleared his mind and created a link with the stone through mana exchange. His consciousness flowed through the stone and landed inside the Rift.

If he was being honest, he really did not expect Eclair to show up when he first activated the stone. The Bestowal of Spirit had already started to take place, slowly changing her into a real human. He could feel the change in his spouse over the last few decades that they were together. When he had approached the subject with her, she had vehemently tried to reverse the process. She did not want to lose her natural immortality granted to her by being a Pawn. If she turned into a full human, she would lose that and eventually succumb to age. She did not fear death but she rather was concern about her husband's well-being after her death. Immortality was a both a blessing and a curse, but more so the latter.

That was why he did not expect Eclair to show up. Her status as Main Pawn allowed her to be called into the world by him without accessing the Rift; he only needed to touch the stone. However, the Bestowal of Spirit had made her less of a Pawn and more of a human in her prime.

The Rift

Inside the Rift, Mikhail knew that something was different. He didn't know what the difference was, but he knew it on the instinctive level. Something was off. As he wondered around, he did not see any Pawns. That was different but not unexpected. He had entered an empty section of the Rift before and it did not remain empty for long as Pawns within the Rift naturally gravitated towards the Arisen. Usually.

A half hour of emptiness had solidified his theory. The connection between the Pawns and Halkeginia's Rift was as close to nonexistent as one could get.

"Have Pawns truly never stepped on Halkeginia before?" he wondered out loud.

"They have. It just been a really long time since the last one," Derf answered. "Anyways, this place does feel kinda different from how I remember it. It used to be a lot more cloudy and less 'nothing', you know what I mean?"

"Yeah."

"So whatcha gonna do 'bout it?"

"I can establish a more secure link to the Pawn Dimension but that will take time. Time that I do not have."

"Ok, but if you want to call upon them you're gonna have to do it."

"I know…. I guess a less secure one will have to do for now. I'll return and make a better one when I have the time."

With that, Mikhail stretched out his right hand in front of him and channeled some mana through it. Eventually, the Rift responded and a small puff of the regular cloudy substance within the Rift formed within his palm. He opened his hand to let it take shape. It grew in size; quickly covering the enter area he was standing in and as far as the eye can see. He could see some if it fading away, but that was not an issue for now.

He focused some more, pushing the mana out of his body into the empty Rift. The Rift was truly empty until now. Even eiss, the essential factor to the existence of everything, was absent here. Now that he thought about it, this place felt more like a void of nothingness than a part of the Rift. Well, now he was using that to his advantage. The emptiness of the place allowed him to create a link much faster than usual. It felt as if the place was sucking everything into it to fill up its void. If this pace kept up, he could probably create a sturdy link at half the time.

The clouds turned into a teal color as they became saturated with magical power. Finally, the clouds began to coalesce into a recognizable realm. It was ready. He tested it out by calling on a long time friend of his. From the borders of the realm came a man with auburn curly hair and a mustache. He was wearing green tunic and wielded a sleek black staff.

"Ah, Rook my old friend, how have you been?" the Seneschal asked, hand extended. Rook was the very first Pawn that Mikhail had ever met. Although Rook had been doomed to never improve on his skills, he was the most intelligent person that Mikhail had ever met. That was to be expected because Rook was actually one of the oldest Pawns ever. He had always existed alongside the Cycle of Return, aiding the Newly Arisen until they could call upon others.

The man took Mikhail's hand and gave it a firm shake before placing his right fist over his heart, "It was been a while Milord. I have been well. What is it that you require of me?"

Mikhail steeled his will and then spoke, long-forgotten authority returning, "Rook, time is of the essence. The Pawn Legion shall march once more."

Rook's eyes widened at the implications of that statement. Then he felt something within him reawaken and he smiled. Everyone who had been under the service of the Rex Victoriae knew the sweet taste of victory and all of them yearned for the return of his glorious empire. Rook was no exception.

"At once, my king," Rook said. He then vanished in a flash of light. Mikhail returned to his body soon after and heard the sounds of metal clashing and spells flying.

"So it has begun. Let's go make a port for the Legion Derf," Mikhail said as he began walking. He stopped to look at his fallen comrade before departing.

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"So, you're a king?" Derf asked. He was watching his current wielder engraving a magical circle onto the ground. Derf recognized the glyphs; they were the exact same ones as the ones on the stone. The only difference was that the symbols were arranged inside a circular border. Mikhail had taken them to a hill beside the battlefield so that he could over see the battle as well as prepare to receive his Legion. Although the Tristanian Army had a remarkable ploy and were very close to victory, the enemy's cavalry was able to disrupt the formation and route one of the magical units. Immediately, the tides turned in favor of the enemy. With the magical unit weakened, the enemy had been able to puncture holes into the formation with magic. The battle was slowly descending into a free-for-all. When that does happen, Tristain's defeat was a guarantee.

"I was. A long time ago I was crowned king of a small nation for my contribution in restoring it to its former glory. Well, at the time it was only a dukedom but the people decided to become independent. Long story short, I expanded the small nation to cover all the peninsula that it rested on and later on annexed the main land to become united under one flag: mine," Mikhail explained.

"Quite the power-hungry individual aren't we?" Derf teased.

"Well… technically Eclair said that the nation was, and I quote 'too small for someone of your stature' and the majority of the people agreed with her. And so after a couple of years, we had the perfect opportunity to invade another country because they had attacked first. It just kind of snowballed from there," Mikhail said, looking embarrassed for how things had turned out. He hadn't meant to take over the entire continent but he was only looking at the individual battle every time and had conquered it when he stopped to check.

"A prolonged military campaign like that one must have cost a lotta money and resources. How long did it take?"

"About two decades, give or take a year," Mikhail answered.

"And your people just agreed to that? Your nation's economy was surely in shambles right?"

"Not necessarily. You see, the people agreed to it because they weren't the ones fighting. The Pawn Legion was. And because the Pawns are not exactly living beings, they could keep marching day and night with little rest. Food and water was not an issue as well and weapons were not that hard to replace. Most of them were just picked up from the dead enemies when their weapons broke. And if any of them died, they could easily be replaced at a Rift Stone."

"So you've basically got an unstoppable army at your beck and call!?"

"I wouldn't call it 'unstoppable'…"

"I feel a 'but' coming," Derf snorted.

"But we were never truly defeated in battle. We were forced to retreat a few times due to defending my nation taking precedence over annexing new territory though," Mikhail answered.

"Uh-huh."

"Aaand with that, I'm done. Rook should be done on his side as well. Here's the signal… and now, we wait," Mikhail said.

"By the way, how big is your Pawn Legion?" Derf asked. Right as he finished asking that, a gigantic swirling cloud appeared on the ground where the magical circle was. At first it was slow, but soon hundreds of men rose from the cloud, all perfectly standing in formation. This continued on for several minutes until men finally ceased to appear. One final man rose from the clouds, Rook.

"I have assembled one tenth of the Legion, my king. This should suffice, yes?" Rook asked. When the Legion soldiers saw who was standing before them, they all went down to one knee, bowing before their only king.

"Well Derf, the entire Pawn Legion's numbers is about the same as the years that I have been alive. This is one tenth of it at exactly 592,387 soldiers, including Rook," Mikhail responded, "And yes, this shall suffice Rook."

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Princess Henrietta was distressed. Her plan to victory had been foiled because of only one factor: she did not factor in the Conscripts skill level. It was an amateur mistake that had now cost her dearly. At the moment, the formation was broken; over half of the Magics Companies were routed, the Conscripts were completely wiped out, and the Musketeers Squadron was either killed or captured. The Manticore Knights and Cavalry Squadron tried their best but the enemy cavalries had found a way through to the mages.

The Princess had to move back into the command camp, about five hundred meters behind the village. Henrietta raced around, issuing new orders, most of them being orders of retreat. She did not want to use it, but the village of Tarbes provided the perfect spot to launch an ambush and turn things around. Retreating through the village will lure the enemy right into their traps, but the ensuing battle will surely level the village.

Her orders were being delivered, but the actual battle itself prevented the army from following them. If they turned their backs now, they will cut down before they could retreat. In light of all these failures, there were only two things that seemed to go right: they just needed to hold out until the Germanian Army arrives with reinforcements and the fact the Albion Army had suffered severe casualties. About half of the enemy army had been defeated. It seemed that while the enemy had a large number, the majority of them were conscripts.

And then, she heard something that made her heart drop: cannons. Henrietta looked towards the west and saw the very thing that she dreaded. The first half of the Tristanian Navy could not hold out and all but one had been destroyed. Only Prince Wales's ship had survived but even then only just barely. It was retreating and the Albion Armada had given chase. As soon as it spots the ground battle, it will open fire and destroy all hopes of victory.

"No, no, no, no, NO! Damn it! It can't end like this…," Henrietta sobbed. She watched as the Armada positioned itself next to the battlefield and adjusted their aims. And the just like that, all of them fired. "That's it. We lost."

"Not yet," a masculine voice said beside her. She jumped with surprise while Agnes, her ever-loyal bodyguard drew her gun. The man easily disarmed the blonde woman and then tapped her on the head her own gun. "Stop being so trigger happy; although given the current circumstances, it is forgivable," the man admonished.

"Sir Serolius, what are you doing here?" Princess Henrietta asked, "Shouldn't you be with Louise?"

"I have left her in the care of a capable person, one whom I trust wholeheartedly. I am here to offer you my aid because my Master's country is too important to her. Whether or not you accept my aid is up to you," Mikhail explained.

"What can one man do!?" she growled.

"A lot. For example, I have just saved your men from certain doom," the white-haired man answered. Henrietta turned to the battlefield and saw that the numerous cannon balls were suspended in air. No, that wasn't quite right. She could just make out a giant pale yellow barrier covering the entire field and defending it from the cannonballs.

"What? How is that possible?" she asked. The sheer size of the barrier was unbelievable.

"Well?" the man asked.

Shaking the impossible feat from her mind, she refocused on the battle. If someone as strong as this could do that, then maybe, just maybe, Tristain could still win this battle. Quickly making up her mind, she nodded, "I would be honored to accept your help in this most perilous time of ours."

"Save the polite speech, now is not the time. Have your troops fall back, I will deal with the enemy," Mikhail commanded as he strove towards the battlefield.

"Alone?"

"Of course not."

Henrietta watched as the familiar of Louise began to sprint towards the battle. He was amazingly fast, perhaps even as fast as the fastest steeds out there. And then she was interrupted by her men suddenly shouting in surprise. They were all pointing towards the north. She turned to look at what was all the commotion when she saw it. Approaching from the north was a massive army baring an unknown flag. It was a simple flag: a black background with a red dragon on it.

She watched as the army marched towards the site and then saw a familiar red figure speeding towards them. Apparently this was Mikhail's promise of aid. With this, the tide of the battle had shifted once more. Victory was close at hand, so close that she could practically taste.

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Mikhail raced towards his Legion. As he reached them, he turned around to look at the battle. The Tristanian Army was able to successfully retreat now that the enemy was focused on them. The Armada was also focused on them as well.

'They will prove to be a nuisance,' Mikhail thought. He then addressed his troops, "Mystic Knights and Fighters, front and center shields up! Warriors behind them, be ready to charge! Magick Archers with Warriors, equip daggers! Rangers and Striders hold positions and fire at my signal and then fire at will! Rook, take the Sorcerers with you and sink those ships! Mages, head towards that village and prepare to treat the injured! Assassins to enemy camp, destroy chain of command! This is an easy victory for warm up before the real conquest begins. Utilize Corral Formation. Advance!"

The Pawn Legion immediately moved to their designated positions and lumbered towards their enemy. The Mages left for the village while Rook led the Sorcerers towards the ships. Mikhail then felt something pulse within. He was shocked at the meaning behind it and then immediately shouted.

"James, Hector, Lucile, Anne, Gregor! To Eclair now!"

The five Mystic Knights were consumed by a teal cloud and vanished in the blink of an eye. The others shifted to fill in the gaps. The enemy army charged at them. The iron wall of shields easily withstood the attack.

"Push, Open, Charge!" Mikhail ordered.

The wall of shields repelled the enemy and pushed them away, opening a gap of a few meters. They then opened their shields to allow the Warriors and Magick Archers to fight. The Warriors cleaved through the enemy, easily breaking through with sheer force. The Magick Archers ran forwards and leaped high into the air before slamming their daggers into the ground, causing huge explosions of fire to erupt from the ground and sending the enemy flying. The gap between the armies widened even more.

"Fire!" Mikhail shouted. Millions of arrows flew into the sky and fell upon the enemy rear. With their retreat blocked by a rain of arrows, Mikhail drew Derf and ran forwards. "CHARGE!"

The Pawn Legion then broke formation and ran forwards with their commander. The stunned army had no chance. With the full might of the Legion falling upon them, the enemy simply crumbled. Without letting his men do the work, Mikhail ran deep into the enemy army and sent men and pieces of men flying with each swing of the sword. Terrified, the enemy tried to turn around, scrambling for their lives. However, what they didn't know was that while it may just seem to be an all out fight with no strategy involved, the Legion were actually slowly being shepherded into a specific formation. The majority of the Mystic Knights were circling around the army, keeping them contained. The Warriors followed Mikhail into the enemy army and started to divide the army in two down the middle.

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Eclair was surprised to see her old comrades come to her aid like this. She slightly relaxed, feeling more assured of her victory against her foe with her comrades here. She had been surprised by all of the spells that the man, Jacob Goffe if she recalled correctly, were using. Especially the last one. Materializing weapons out of nowhere like that? She had never met anyone beside Mikhail do something like that. Even then, Mikhail couldn't just send the weapons flying.

The cannonballs impacted harmlessly against the combined Holy Fortress. Goffe was shocked at the sudden arrival of even more enemies. He was having a hard enough time against the swordswoman and the Heavy Wind; with these five newcomers, failure was a guarantee. Even with his signature spell, The Forge, it was impossible to win. The spell might have made it look like he had summoned those swords out of nowhere or create them instantaneously, but in actuality the weapons were actually just many copies of about a hundred personally forged weapons. The only weapons that he could create with this spell were ones that he himself personally made, and he hasn't had time to increase his inventory in a while.

Well, it was time to escape then. He never wanted to assassinate the Princess anyways, and now there is a valid reason for his failure. With one last barrage of weapons raining down on the shields, Goffe prepared to leave. However, he was caught unaware and paid the price for it. The swordswoman had charged around the defensive wall and was now slashing through his left forearm. He quickly kicked her away and then burrowed into the ground and left before the Heavy Wind could use another spell.

He kept moving away from the village for about half an hour before he resurfaced. He had wrapped his arm with a piece of his robe and then used earth as a cast.

'At least I'm still alive. I can't afford to die now, not with so much at stake,' Goffe thought. He was ready to just take a nap right about now. Well, after he gets his arm properly treated.

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The Albion Army was just about done for. Henrietta couldn't believe her eyes. Sir Serolius had simply waltzed onto the battlefield and then completely won the battle by using the strategy that she had thought up of. He did change it a little though; he had split the enemy into smaller chunks that could be defeated simultaneously. His Mage unit was also very formidable too. Actually, it was beyond formidable; it was downright terrifying. A subordinate of Serolius had led a company of mages to face the Albion Armada. Only a few of them had stepped forward to actually cast a spell. They had created ten large tornadoes and flung the airborne ships around. Many of them collided with each other and broke down. The larger ships were able to withstand the malevolent winds better, but they did not emerge from the storm unharmed. The larger ships were just barely managing to stay afloat.

As Henrietta watched this, she saw another group of people running towards the battle ground. At this point, Sir Serolius was just cleaning up now. The group of people seemed familiar. She then made out a mop of pink hair.

"Louise!" the Princess yelled. She was about to run after her childhood friend but was suddenly blinded by a bright white light engulfing the remainder of the Armada. After the light passed, the ships, or what remains of them, crashed onto the ground. "What was that?" she asked no one in particular/

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Louise felt useless as she watched her mother and current bodyguard fight the assailant. Even when she attempted to do something, she was almost impaled by a flying sword. Frustrated at her own weakness, she ran away to try and do something. Eclair was distracted attacking the man and her mother seemd ticked off at being cut off earlier. Louise knew that her mother was holding back during the entire fight in order to prevent collateral damage.

Louise looked around and then saw her mother's familiar. She approached the manticore and started to mount it. She had rode on her mother's familiar before and it never really reacted differently than a horse. She knew that the familiar was intelligent, though she never knew to what extent. She also knew that her mother trusted her familiar enough that it was one of the only beings out there where Karin could relax around. It was considered a family member in the Valliere household, and not just as a pet either. The manticore seemed to understand what Louise wanted and so it took off at her command.

Louise saw her mother turn around to catch her departure. "Louise! Get back here now!" she yelled. That made Louise flinch. Her mother had never raised her voice ever before; she was always using that outwardly calm voice that hinted at the simmering anger held within. But Louise had made up her mind and continued on her path. She didn't actually know what to do, but she was determined to help Prince Wales escape safely. She had seen his ship retreating earlier.

As she flew towards the Prince's ship, she saw ten huge tornadoes emerge and wreak havoc on the Armada. Eventually the gales subsided and she drew closer to the Armada, curious at the out come of such a spell.

Louise felt something pulse through her. She tried to shake it off, but that did not help. She could feel a foreign source of magic flowing through her. Mikhail's lessons had allowed her to be more intuned to her magical reserves. She reached for the source and found it coming from the Founder's Prayer Book. She held it in her hands and then her eyes grew hazy as she drew her wand. She pointed it towards the ships as she incanted a spell. The manticore hovered when it felt its rider loosening her grip.

After several minutes of incanting, she spoke the one word that she had associated with failure: "Explosion."