"Kill Them All. The Lord knows whose are his."
…
…
It was a disaster.
Bowood was standing on the deck of the Lexington, watching the battlefield from a great distance. Upon seeing the fleet, the Albion Army below had begun to rally, and the battle once again devolved into another chaotic duel. But Bowood could tell that the temporary boost in morale wouldn't be enough for the ground forces to ensure victory by themselves. He currently had no idea where Johnston was, and assumed that he had been killed in the flames. Without their commander, the army was just pushing forward towards the center, and while they were actually beginning to drive the Tristain pikes back, both of their flanks were dangerously open. Were it not for the presence of his fleet, the Tristanian Army would likely attack their weak sides and destroy what was left of the Albion forces.
Bowood saw a few of the enemy cannons being maneuvered so that they were pointing at his fleet of over 100 ships, but he knew even before they fired that it was useless. Even as the cannons were aimed at a far steeper angle from before, they simply lacked the range to hit the ships up in the air. Without moving in the slightest he watched as they rose up in the air, some even reaching the height of the Lexington, but all came crashing down without threatening the safety of his ship in the slightest.
Yet the fact was that the same was true for Bowood. The Lexington's cannons, as well as those for all Helgekinian ships, were designed to attack enemy ships and clear the skies for infantry to land and take territory. They were not designed to destroy ground targets. They could fire and eventually gravity would cause them to land on the ground and explode, but there simply was no way to actually adjust the cannons up or down to a sufficient degree so that they could be aimed at the ground. Furthermore, it was difficult for a captain to actually see where the fired cannons had landed because of how high up the ships were for their own protection. This meant that adjusting the ship itself to hit the enemy ground targets was highly impractical. At the range that the ships were at, they were just as likely to hit their own forces as those of the enemy. Given the precarious state of the Albion forces, one wrong placed shot and explosion could cause them to retreat and collapse.
Instead, the job of attacking ground targets fell to the Dragon Knights. In essence, the Lexington and most of the Albion ships were turned into small aircraft carriers, housing the famed winged beasts whose job was to attack the ground forces. Bowood raised his hands and watched as they were mounted. Across the Albion fleet, whistles were blown by junior officers, the official signal for every ship to launch the knights for their attack. As he watched the dragons fly off and prepare to attack the ground forces, Bowood couldn't help but chuckle at his situation. He was still the official head of all Albion forces, and was pacing back and forth across the bow of the greatest ship in all of Helgekinia. But now he was too far away from the battlefield to direct either the ground troops or the knights, and thus could do nothing but wait. Either the dragon knights would prove themselves capable of taking out the artillery and preventing a flanking attack long enough for the Albion center to overwhelm the Tristanian center or they would fail. And if they failed, there would be no second chances. The Albion army would almost certainly be destroyed, and Cromwell would have him executed for a disaster of this magnitude.
With no one watching him, he pulled out a flask and took a long drain of gin. He knew he would need it.
…
As he stood near the battlefield with a horse behind him, Napoleon thought back to the days of his youth, when his Corsican father told fascinating tales of brave knights slaying fierce dragons and rescuing princesses. Like every little boy, he had dreamed of becoming a shining and heroic knight and had played games with his fellow childhood friends where they reenacted such fantasies. Now, in a completely different world, he saw dragons ride out for the first time in his life, with the knights this time riding atop of them like cavalry as opposed to battling them. As they left their great flying ships, their wings beating in the dark sky, he thought of the irony that a childhood dream was in a sense coming true.
The dragons with a great roar moved through the sky and began their descent. They knew their objectives which they had received from Bowood. Above all, they were to attempt to neutralize the enemy artillery and harass the flanks with their flames and talons. The riders of the dragons rarely carried weapons themselves due to the difficulties of controlling the great beasts and the incredible speeds which they could fly at. These soldiers were the last of the three concerns Napoleon had had while devising his plan, and from the moment he knew how many soldiers Albion had landed at Tarbes, it was the only one he had been seriously concerned about.
The first potential problem he had observed was that Albion could have refused battle. La Rochelle was the biggest port in Tristain, but it was not the only one. The country possessed two other port cities which formed a connection between itself and Albion. Even if they were far smaller and incapable of supporting an army as large, Albion could have always launched an all-out assault at all three ports, and they would have been able to get the most value out of the their material advantage. However, the Albion command, likely obsessed with gaining the honor of capturing the second most important city in Tristain, had completely lost sight of their general goal of winning the war and had fanatically devoted itself to nothing more than taking La Rochelle. It was a serious blunder, one which Napoleon had seen from others and had committed himself in Europe regarding the city of Moscow. One must always focus on destroying the enemy army as opposed to taking useless ground.
The second problem was similar. If Albion had refused to invade at all, but had rather focused on using their ships to pillage and raid the countryside, there would have been no way he could have attained the specific victory he sought. The only realistic solution then would have been to deploy the entire Tristanian navy as a means of forcing the Albion navy to do battle, and then to use Louise's Explosion to destroy their fleet. But that approach would have meant all the glory would go to his partner and not to him, and thus would be completely valueless to his goals.
The third once again came down to their superior air force, only this time there was the concern of how they would use it in the battlefield. As the ships were not capable of severely hurting ground armies in and of themselves that meant that it came down to the Dragon Knights and Tristain's ability to counter them. However, it was not directly his problem. While Napoleon had read about the Dragon Knights and some of their capabilities, he had never directly seen them before on the battlefield, meaning that his ability to counter them would remain limited. Ultimately, while he hated to admit it, this would be something which would be up to De Poitiers. The commanding general was an unimaginative and boorish man, but Napoleon knew from talking with Agnes and his fellow soldiers to understand that he was if nothing else a mediocre general. That man could deal with the dragons for now. And Napoleon would watch, learn, and improve on all of his methods.
In the meantime, he mounted his horse. He didn't know whether De Poitiers would prove fully capable of countering the dragons, but it was best to make sure. Napoleon would need to get Louise. The situation was highly fragile. Wasting time in the future that would be needed to get her would possibly be something which he wouldn't be able to afford.
Meanwhile as Napoleon rode off to deal with his partner, General De Poitiers stood watching the battlefield, taking care to not be anywhere near the captain who was becoming a rival. As he stroked his walrus mustache, he looked upon the flying beasts that approached. He had already begun rearranging the formation the minute he had spotted the Lexington, and by now it was basically complete. The melee infantry and mages had slowly and steadily retreated while they continued to maintain good order and fought their enemy counterparts. However, the musket men were ordered to move back a great distance, and now they were accompanying the cannons.
Dragons were vicious beasts. They were capable of sustaining a flying rate of 60 mph, faster than any horse, and their talons and flame made them more dangerous than any weapons a cavalryman could wield. But they were not without their weaknesses. The first problem was the short range of the flame attack, as they were barely capable of reaching ten yards. It was obvious that was well within the range of a musket man, especially with a target as large as a dragon. Furthermore, while the speed of the winged beasts greatly helped with that problem, De Poitiers knew that they possessed another weakness which was even more dangerous. The biggest problem with using dragons was in fact a side effect of their greatest advantage over manticore and griffin mounts, their flame attack. While the stream of fire was without a doubt incredibly dangerous, the fact was that a dragon that was breathing out flames was not capable of breathing in air at the same time. The result was that after any flame attack, a flame dragon would massively slow down and inexperienced ones would even completely stop as they sucked in the massive amounts of oxygen necessary to keep such large beasts in flight. In fact, a tired dragon if forced to breathe fire out for too long would in fact land for a short bit and attempt to rest in order to regain its breath. It was at that moment when flame dragons were at their greatest vulnerability. In order to take advantage, the musket men were spread across the cannons, preventing them from being bunched and taking casualties from the flames. They would fire their guns after the dragons finished their attack, and not a second before.
Despite that advantage, he couldn't help but worry about the fact that said strategy required taking the fire blast first. He looked at the cannons and grumbled about the lack of earthen works that should have surrounded them to protect them from dragon fire. While he had attempted to get a few earth mages to do such a thing, that new Captain had completely lost it when he realized what De Poitiers was doing. He had ranted on how cannons were instruments which should never lose their mobility so they could be moved to inflict maximum damage, something which was utterly ridiculous to the general. As far as De Poitiers was concerned, you weren't supposed to move cannons during a battle. The proper method of fighting was to have them at the back, protected, and make them support the infantry. Some of the cannons were hitched to horses and were prepared to move, but this wouldn't protect them against dragons. Either way, he thought to himself as their roars grew steadily louder, it was too later to worry about such things now.
He pulled out his telescope and looked at the first dragon which had flown onto the battlefield. It was truly a magnificent animal, 15 feet long and with red scales covering its entire body. The Tristanian soldiers looked at it, pointing their muskets upwards. While a few less disciplined soldiers fired prematurely, it was a pointless attack on their part. Moving at a great speed, the dragon moved forward and crashed directly onto one of the cannons. As some of the soldiers fled, the creature grasped an artillery man in its talons, immediately impaling and ending its life. Then its rider, his face covered by a mask which protected him from the elements from flying at such high altitudes, pulled its reins. With a great roar, the dragon spit out a stream of fire, causing the soldiers to run and destroying the cannon in the process. After several seconds, the stream stopped, and the dragon paused for a moment, while a Tristanian captain nearby raised his sword and gave a yell.
"Open fire!"
A nearby volley of musket balls penetrated the dragon, causing it to flail about. While it remained alive, the rider, whom did not wear any armor in order to make flying easier for its mount, toppled off the dragon as it was riddled with bullet holes. They were normally the main targets for the muskets. Dragons would not fight without a rider, and they never accepted anyone else as their masters. Normally after battles, dragons that lost their riders would end up killed by their own side, as they were no longer useful in combat and were expensive to maintain. This one proved no different. With a howl of rage and grief, it lifted its master onto its back and lifted off, normally to the ship it had left, but sometimes to a random destination.
But even as those soldiers cheered this one victory, more dragons appeared throughout the lines. Some fell to musket fire, but as the muskets needed time to reload, the following beasts began to wreck havoc on the men and some of the artillery. The skirmish was turning into a debacle and De Poitiers sent out orders to withdraw some of the battle mages and have them enter the battlefield. It was incredibly risky as the center would be weakened even further, but now he didn't believe he had a choice.
"The blasted Void mage better start moving soon."
…
While both Napoleon and De Poitiers had been close to the front lines though at different locations, Henrietta had moved towards the rear, farther away from the battlefield. She was accompanied with a small bodyguard that included Agnes, and Louise was also right next to her. The Princess had instructed her few soldiers to guard her friend's life with the care that they would take with her own. And as the monarch looked out on the battlefield, she couldn't help but wonder. She was confident that they would win because of the great sacrifices she had made, but what if they didn't? What would happen to the throne? Henrietta knew that given the dark times she lived in, she would likely need to name an heir should the worst arise. And as she had no blood relations aside from her infirm mother, her best friend, a scion of the proud and powerful Valliere family, was likely the best option. The fact that Louise was a Void Mage was something else to take into consideration.
She saw Napoleon ride up before she heard the horses, and grew a little paler. Napoleon and De Poitiers were directing the battlefield together. It was an arrangement which she knew was hardly the most efficient setup, but it was the most effective way of letting a man with the skill that Napoleon possessed direct while presenting a route to avoid the wrath of the nobility to some degree. As Napoleon had all the troops at his disposal, there was only one reason why he would need to ride all the way back here. As he dismounted, the two glanced at each other in acknowledgment, but did not say a word as the Emperor moved towards his partner. Henrietta then realized that during the entire time she had been looking out on the battlefield, Louise had not said a single word.
Napoleon knelt so that he was at his partner's height, and then put his hands on her thin shoulders. The girl was looking down on the ground as he did so.
"Louise, we need you. Are you ready?"
It was all he said. Everyone present knew what Napoleon was asking of her. She was to use her Void magic to destroy the Albion fleet, the biggest immediate threat to her country's safety. She would protect her country and become the hero, the savior she had always wanted to be. And Napoleon would seize victory for himself. It was the perfect moment, when the day would be saved and glory earned.
"No."
"Huh?"
Napoleon's surprise at the words that came out of Louise mouth led to the confused response. His partner was trembling, but in response to what she said, an outburst came forth as Louise's voice rose up to a shrill scream.
"No no no no no no no no! I can't do it! I'm going out there to kill or be killed! To take lives, and fight? To save this country, to save everyone? How can I be expected to do such a thing? I can't, I can't, I can't do it!"
The outburst ended and Louise dropped to the ground, hugging her knees. It almost seemed that she want to ignore everything and just cry in despair. But as she trembled and continued to hold back her tears, Napoleon decided that he really wanted to hit himself.
He was an idiot. He had forgotten that his partner, even as powerful as she was, was still just a young girl who had never fought in her life. A young girl who had been told to sit at the back of a battlefield, and therefore had plenty of time to think about the effect her spell would have. Even if it was as non-lethal as it had been at Tarbes, Explosion would destroy the Lexington and the rest of the ships, and they would crash or possibly disintegrate like the plane had. Even if Louise wouldn't directly cause their deaths, the resulting chaos would lead to the same result, and the battle would end with the blood of hundreds, maybe thousands of people on her hands. She also had the time to wonder about how she would perform on the battlefield, and how she would react in the face of fear. And so here was his partner, terrified to enter the battlefield and likely end lives, and at the same time filled with self-hatred for her fear. And here he was, having completely failed to take this into account. Even if he did forcibly drag her onto the battlefield, there would be no way she could cast the spell properly. He may be someone who still didn't fundamentally understand magic, but anyone could see that given her emotional state, she likely wouldn't be capable of casting any spells correctly, let alone a magic as powerful as Void.
So he said the only thing that was appropriate.
"That is what I expect from my master."
"What?"
The words were completely unexpected from Louise's viewpoint. He had said something insulting, derogatory, as if he expected her to be a coward. But it almost sounded like he was proud of her. And for the first time since he had been summoned, he had used THAT word to refer to her.
"A warrior who is not afraid, who does not think about every life he claims, is not worthy of serving within my army. That man is the dullest of simpletons, not even fit of the lowest of tasks. Only through thinking about those lives he has taken can he advance on. By acknowledging the lives he has taken, he gains the will to press on, to make sure that their deaths were not for nothing.
You will take lives, Louise. There is no denying that, and you must never forget that for a single second. But you must move on, ready to do everything what is necessary for the country. Take your fear, and put it into your spell when you destroy the Albion forces.
So tell me, my master. Are you ready?"
Louise was still trembling, but she now looked directly at Napoleon, and he knew he had done the right thing. To berate her would have made her crawl further into her shell of self-pity, and to console her would have been the worst course of all. Given the demands he had consistently made from her and the fact that he had explicitly stated that an Emperor does not show mercy to his allies, Louise would have completely panicked if he had shown pity towards her. She was still in an emotionally precarious state, and Napoleon did not know whether her spell would work. But there was no time.
There were no further words between them, as Louise climbed on Napoleon's horse, her hands around him to make sure she didn't fall off. And so the two rode, charging into the battlefield to ostensibly save the day.
…
As the two continued to ride, Napoleon could see that the situation really was growing worse and worse. He passed through burning cannons and men as he attempted to find De Poitiers, and observed that one of the 36 pounders had been spiked and made useless. As Napoleon had taken most of the larger guns from Tristanian ships, the fact that they were being destroyed was a serious concern. To top things off, he still didn't know if Louise's spell would actually succeed. Under the worst case scenario, he would have to enter combat himself. He didn't know how well he would do with the Gandalfr runes, but judging from how easily he defeated someone as skilled as Foucard, he could probably be enough of a force to turn the tide in the center. But even that scenario would be potentially problematic, as he needed to earn credit as a leader, not a fighter.
As he continued to ride on, he moved past the wounded, but then abruptly stopped. Despite the quizzical stare from his partner, he dismounted, and moved towards one of the men being bandaged.
"Martin. Are you all right?"
The line wind mage gave a chuckle on seeing his superior officers and hearing his words.
"You know, Agnes never said anything like that to a wound this small. I just had my chest burned by an enemy fire mage. Not a big deal. I'm just angry at myself for losing."
He gave a chuckle, but then grunted in pain. Underneath the bandages, Napoleon could barely see that his skin had been so badly burned that it was partially blackened. While it was horrifying to see, he couldn't afford to wait too much longer. After giving a salute and asking if the medical supplies were sufficient (they were), he mounted the horse and rode for a bit before speaking to the girl behind him.
"We're going to get a bit closer so you can strike with your spell. Okay?"
He looked at his partner. It was clear that she was still afraid, but within that fear laid determination. It was the combination which made true courage, which any true soldier should possess.
But even as he kicked the flanks of his horse, an event occurred. At the moment when Tristanian forces were being pushed back and their cannons destroyed by the Dragon Knights, what would be known as the Miracle of La Rochelle happened.
…
Summer was normally a dry time in Helgekinia, which resulted in weather that was highly suitable for combat. But the clouds had been growing darker for some time during the battle, and now it almost instantly turned into a downpour. Upon this battlefield, a thunderstorm had emerged.
At first, Napoleon became seriously worried, as he looked around for men whom could protect the fuses of the artillery and get them out of areas that would soon turn into mud. But then he realized how much he still had to learn of combat within this world.
As the dragons' flame was something which came from within their bodies and was oil-based, the rain actually did not affect their attack all that much. But they were creatures of fire, and always panicked when confronted with rain, especially a torrent of this degree. Only the very best riders were capable of controlling a dragon in this weather, while the majority of them ended their attacks on the cannons and flanks and instinctively sought to fly back to their ships for protection.
But even as the dragons sought to get on their ships, the great flying boats were turning around. The Albion Air Fleet, even from a distance, was clearly seeking to retreat. Long years of experience meant that they knew that lightning was something which always seeks to strike higher places first. The ships were still below the clouds and thus weren't in the greatest zone of danger, but it was risky enough. Forgetting the battlefield, they sought to flee and avoid the massive danger.
But it was too late. For there was a great flash, and one bolt of lightning struck the Lexington, and tore through the gigantic ship like it had been made of paper. And the immense heat from the strike caused its powder magazines to ignite.
The explosion was immense. Its shockwaves caused some of the nearby ships to flip and ripped them apart, causing sailors to plunge out of the sky and to fall onto the hard ground. But the mightiest ship in Helgekinia, with the main commander of the Albion forces on board, had turned into dust. Only the gigantic pillars of smoke and the debris flying through the air gave evidence that it had ever existed.
And as the Albion air and ground forces watched the pride of their military dissolve into nothing, their hearts shattered. To them, it was a sign. A sign that they had angered Brimir, whom had destroyed their great ship with a bolt of lightning like it was nothing. And now the exhaustion of constant marching, of no food, of the disorganization, hit the Army like a stack of bricks. With a great wail of despair, they no longer were a fighting force, but instead became a giant rabble consumed with fear, seeking a way to escape and live. Some were so terrified that they could even think to move from where they were and lay there waiting for death. It was speedily granted to them, for the Tristanian army gave a joyous cry at what had happened, and charged at the Albion army, granting them no quarter at this stage of the battle.
As Louise and Napoleon watched the explosion and impending rout, Louise had dropped to her knees. She had always been someone who worshipped and venerated Brimir, and in acknowledgment of this miracle, she knelt to pray for victory and the souls of the departed. But even as she began to kneel, Napoleon grabbed the back of her neck and roughly hauled her up. While she gave squeal of indignation, he had pointed at the enemy ships.
"You still need to destroy the rest of them!"
"W-what? Okay, sure!"
Her heart now had no doubts, as she knew that she was doing righteous work. As the rain continued to fall in spades and lightning flashed, she raised her wand and calmly began chanting.
"Osu Suunu Uryu Ru Rado"
As she began, she felt something within her. It was strange but wonderful, and it was familiar. When she thought about it, it was this feeling that had always occurred whenever she failed her spells and was the laughingstock of her class. But now that she knew who she was, the feeling was no longer something to be fought, but to be embraced. She continued to chant and felt a great wave of magic swelling inside her, and so she gave a peaceful and happy smile. This was without a doubt the magic of the great Brimir, and she was to do his work in this world. Bring peace to her country, and save everyone she loved.
"Beoozusu Yuru Suvyueru Kano Oshera"
As she continued the chant, Napoleon stood behind her, his hands behind his back as he waited without seeking protection from the rain. He also knew that what had happened was a miracle, a sign. Destiny had granted him victory, as it had done all these many times. What had been done this day was an indication that he would need to continue marching down his road of unity, of power and of order. He would be the one to unite Helgekinia. He may have blown one chance to rule the world, but here was another, a fresh one. And as Louise finished her chant, he began to laugh again. It was maniacal, as he knew that he would once again march down the road which would lead him to his destiny. He would be the one to change the entire world.
And as he looked on, the Void mage pointed her wand at the sky, and as had occurred in that night in Tarbes, a small light appeared in the sky, next to a retreating Albion ship. And once again, it steadily expanded, consuming all of the Albion ships in the area. The Tristain forces stopped to look upon the holy light and were pleased. This light, which now destroyed the rest of the Albion fleet in the area, was another indication of the greatness of their cause, as they fought to defend their homes. As the Albion forces continued to flee, the Tristain army stopped and gave a great chant.
"The Founder has blessed us! Tristain is under the protection of Brimir! We shall be victorious!"
"Indeed! Indeed! Indeed!"
And with that, the defender advanced once again, destroying and routing the invaders to the wind. When night finally fell and the fighting ceased, the results were clear. The result of this day of battle had been possibly the greatest victory in the history of Tristain.