The Lost Son

by OculiImperator

Jaune Arc wished to live his own life, a life not in the shadow of the Arc Family but a life where he could make his own choices. In order to escape that shadow, he decided to become a Huntsman. What he did not realize was that while Duty and Desire may not always share the same road they often share the same destination.

26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

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"I always believed or at the very least hoped that we would never do any real fighting during that first month. Of course there were many more that assumed or even hoped for it as fighting could at least distract them from the boredom and monotony of military life. My team got lucky and was given a relatively simple garrison mission for a little while as the rest of the Regiment handled some of the big picture issues. A big problem however came from some of the other Huntsmen and Huntresses. As they were starting to voice their displeasure at being forced to hold position for so long. It chaffed at the inherent freedoms that the Four Kingdoms normally bestowed and what we were used to or well what most of us expected from our intended profession. Captain Epon for instance was known to talk in an unofficial manner of leaving the Regiment to act on their own accord permitted by their status of Huntsmen and Huntresses. Of course rumors had it that Areto heard about what he was saying and an incident was said to have occurred but whatever happened never made an appearance in official records of a reprimand. That said, while our Regiment was forced to sit on our hands, the rest of the war was still going on."

---

Jaune felt like his teeth were going to break as he shivered. Shifting from foot to foot he pulled his greatcoat tighter around him. Enjoying the small nugget of warmth it could give him as he stood on the perimeter wall of the Emburacum Way Station. He needed to remember next time to put his armor over the coat when he got the chance since even his new armor wasn't nearly enough to keep him warm now. Especially since it was already past midnight and the temperature was well below zero. Plus he thought he would look good with the coat under this armor.

Luckily the freezing temperate was also keeping him sort of awake as Jaune had been on his feet since six the previous morning and hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep for the last four days. He now understood why a lot of soldiers valued keeping their own stock of coffee or other consumable stimulants. As he had already gone through three cups of strong coffee in the last hour and was tempted to get a fourth.

On the other hand he had to issue an officer wide warning to relay to their troops when someone gave Nora a bottle of caffeine pills. Pyrrha and two other Huntsmen had to hold Nora down until someone could wake up Ren who they had found in an alleyway. Apparently he had been knocked out when Nora launched him through a brick wall. How or why that happened no one was really sure and Jaune was forced to reprimand the two of them over the incident.

The soft boom of artillery drew his attention and he could see the faint blossoms of light on the dark horizon. For some reason he couldn't help but be transfixed by it. The artillery barrages had been growing in frequency as well as the air raids, though he had yet to fully understand why the Rebels were taking the effort in striking positions past Emburacum. At least not really, he could guess it to be a part of a slowly ramping up the scale of operations being conducted yet that was an incomplete answer to a question he wasn't of.

For instance Jaune wasn't sure how the Rebels were capable of striking so many places and so often. As it would suggest that there was a disparity in the amount of soldiers being fielded on both sides with the Rebels holding a significant lead in manpower. Or it was suggesting a complete failure of securing their lines due to incompetence, being outwitted or purposeful negligence.

Which was evident to why they were out here as Lord Karador, the commanding Noble of the Loyalist forces in Emburacum had sent a message earlier that day. It turned out he was attempting to put out both the proverbial and literal fires caused by these sorties amongst his forces as well as his supply lines.

Turning around he looked at the latest position that they had to protect, it was one of the remaining fortified supply stations for the Northern Defense Line. From what Jaune understood from the message sent by Karador is that of the six stations in the region only three, including this one, were still operational.

One, past the other defensive town of Morley was destroyed by a Rebel Dragoon raid that had slipped in when the latest blizzard had stalled Loyalist patrols. Another station to the far south west was taken by Rebels completely some time ago not that he was surprised, it was pretty far out from any strategic positions that little effort had been made to protect it. The third near Durham's Rest was under repair after several bombing runs and the need to expand it to accommodate the projected increase of traffic coming through it. The largest station was to the east of Greydon, the Region's Capital; it is used as the main mustering then distribution point for supplies and reinforcements from the south or east from Brythonian Allies.

The need to reinforce the supply points and the dwindling manpower at Karador's command was also beginning to become a very obvious problem. While Jaune was still trying to catch up to the necessary experience and knowledge someone of his status should have Colonel Heim made it clear that if he noticed it then the enemy has too or soon will.

Unfortunately it seemed that neither he nor Karador were getting any clear cut orders from the Brythonian Command structure. Some of that had to do with the poor lines of communication. Long range radio or vox traffic was impossible to understand that it finally forced Captain Keegan to start experimenting on the possible causes for it. Even now a detachment of Enginseers under Keegan were scouring for any or all vectors of interference that they could find in a reasonable vicinity of their area of operation.

On the other hand, in a far more concerning way, there seemed to be disconnect between the established Brythonian Command staff with the current field commanders. Or at least that's what Jaune felt was happening with him. As the missives he received either ignored parts of his own requests to get into contact or finally be relieved to go form up with Brigadier General Karsidottir's forces like he was originally supposed to. Other times they seeming implied that his or his officers' insights in regards to tactical operations were not considered as vital to their own. He wasn't sure how to rectify this problem. He could head down to Greydon where apparently his orders were either getting relayed from or originating from to discuss these matters but he also didn't want to get stuck in local politics.

So instead he just watched as hundreds of men and women were clearing and adding to the rail station. Adding new buildings for supply storage, expanding the docking bays for unloading and loading both the train cars for the supplies. As well as setting up new heavy weapons platforms on the expanding wall.

As it turned out most of the Levies left to garrison here only had infantry based weapons. Even then they only had six Whitworth Heavy Machine guns and eight Holek Light Machine guns. It might be useful to help them stop small or some medium size packs of Grimm maybe even an enemy infantry company. However if attacked by an older or Alpha Grimm or even light vehicles would tip the balance against them hard.

Jaune had transferred sixteen of the Brythonian made 2-Pounder Anti-Tank guns from Luguval along with their crews to defend this position. Though Jaune would have preferred that giving the small caliber anti-tank guns was the only thing he had to do but it seemed that the compound was big enough to needed hundreds of more people to man it properly. As ten trains could pass through it at once while having the space to store or repair almost four dozen train cars or engines. With over half a million square feet of warehouse space spread across several warehouses with three more building built.

As such he had to, donate, soldiers to help garrison it. Trying to make the best of the situation he had handpicked three companies from, 1st, 2nd and 3rd Battalions to garrison it. Though it really just brought Jaune back to his less than favorable opinion about the 2-Pounder as a whole. As it was a rather lackluster Anti-tank gun and that was a feeling shared by the soldiers under his command.

At least in Luguval the Brythonians had twenty 6-Pounder Anti-tank guns which could tackle the average Grimm or armored unit and providing adequate fire support in lieu of mortar fire. As well as a dozen of their heavier hitting High Velocity 17 Pounder Anti-tank guns or just normally called HV17s.

That said there were some good things about the 2-Pounders that Jaune suspected were part of the reason why they were still used. Such as the relatively small size meant it was easy to transport compared to other field guns getting stored or deployed in half the time.

It also had a relatively easy design to make meaning it was probably the most produced crew serviced weapon next to the infantry weaponry featured amongst the Brythonian. Even now the weapon crews and spare enginseers were fitting the last of them into gun spots on the low walls surrounding the compound. Something as he understood it, would have taken much more time to do had it been larger support weapons like the Serpent Infantry gun or the 6-Pounder. Easy to make with little transportation troubles would also mean that it wouldn't be that hard to offer them to even small villages to use.

On the other hand it was a woefully underperforming; the single low velocity 40mm round meant it wasn't worth the effort of using as the enemy scaled up in either numbers or strength. There were plenty of other systems that performed better in both the long and short term.

Jaune would rather have a platoon of Mark 44 Exterminator tanks. A modified Hydra tank mounted on a Predator chassis. Giving it the ability to perform as a point defense infantry support tanks that use twin linked 40mm autocannons with five hundred rounds of High Velocity Armor Piercing or High Explosive shells.

Unlike the regular Hydra tank, the Exterminator Pattern tank was designed with the role of providing punishing close range infantry support, effective against all but the heaviest of infantry, large or strong Grimm and medium Armor. There were other tanks capable of equal if not greater level of anti-personnel work. Most tanks tended to carry High Explosive or Canister rounds and there were other tanks that preformed a similar role but that was beside the point.

Despite that the normal Hydra tanks as a whole were, in Jaune's opinion, some of the most important tanks that the Arcadian Army ever used. It was only under the Sicaran Heavy Tank and maybe the Predator tank. If he included every armored vehicle or war machine then it would drop down in the listing but that wasn't a fair advantage as some of the things he knew that his father kept locked away were monsters in their own rights.

That said every infantryman and commander enjoyed knowing if they had 40mm autocannons or even the earlier versions with single rotary 20mm or dual 25mm versions as well. Keegan even told him about the Mechanicus developing a version of the Hydra tank but dedicated to an Anti-Armor role, something about six 100mm High Velocity guns on a Sicaran chassis. It came equipped with an auto-loader function that allowed it to put out twelve 100mm tank rounds every minute.

Jaune reckoned that it'd probably be passed over for the continued use of Actaeon Tank Destroyers for their longer range and accurate armored killing power. As that rate of fire was the only real good factor about the experimental tank, it couldn't hold enough shells to maintain a long engagement without ample resupply. While attempts to increase its holding capacity either slowed it considerably down or weakened the armor plating that any good hit might touch off the shells it carried.

So the series of Actaeon Tank Destroyers from their 128mm to 152mm heavy cannons were still in use to this day. While there was also no way the Predator tank would get phased out soon unless an immediate superior but cost effective design was put forth. As for the Sicaran despite its relatively low overall numbers it wouldn't be done away with any time soon. It was still the most mass produced juggernaut of the battlefield including the three generational variants that the Army could field today.

At the end of the day however Hydra tanks were a precious resource outside Arcadia; as the Arcadian Air Force was still more or less limited to defensive homeland actions. Before recent events there weren't more than a dozen Vulture or Valkyrie wings were given free operational reign outside their Kingdom. While only a select few Lightning and Avenger flights were sanctioned to act in aggressive roles outside a few select zones. Corsairs weren't stationed anywhere besides the Hurin Valleys, even then those were older models that were leftovers during the scare conjured by the Fall of Mountain Glenn.

This incidentally was something he thought that Atlas had more than a leg up on Arcadia when it came to their Air Fleet. Their ability to travel with mobile air bases, providing relatively quick air to ground support deep inland was a powerful weapon. If Atlas got smart their Air Fleet alone would stop any attempt at Arcadian Air supremacy at the moment and would be a serious threat to most land operations.

In any case tank or vehicle mounted Heavy Stubbers like the Sabre halftracks along with Pegasus Launchers did their jobs but they hit a wall quick when large amounts of flying or just large flying Grimm were present. Or in the case from the river skirmish along with what Jaune's been seeing with the Dragoon air raids, a proverbial cloud of thundering heavy caliber shells had a noticeable effect on people that other forms of anti-air lacked.

Unfortunately, he didn't have many Anti-Air self-propelled Hydras so all his thoughts were doing were just being distracting drivel. Though he supposed there was probably a chance that 9th Brigade had a lot more Hydras and even some of the Exterminator patterns.

"Commander." A voice interrupted his thoughts as he turned to see Albuin Hessel, his vox operator, standing at attention.

"Toss the formality for now Hessel, what's the word?" Jaune asked as he looked at her. While he couldn't see her face due to the helmet he understood enough about her that she was glad to keep it informal. Hessel, a capable vox operator, was turning out to be a rather interesting individual.

"Honestly whoever is or was in charge of this place probably spent the better part of their time fucking around or just fucking because according to Wallace's people it's going to take at least a full day to unfuck the mess the fucking morons made of it. The new train schedules are mixed with trains that aren't even in service anymore or the timing for their arrival is so old that they were probably outdated before the Rebellion even started."

"Well they should have time to sort it out before the next train is supposed to arrive but that's their problem to handle with until someone else dumps it on us. If there's nothing else tell Lieutenant Kurrat that we'll be leaving in about ten or so minutes and get something hot to drink in the cafeteria building they have. I'm going to have a quick word with Captain Walden before we leave." Jaune said as Hessel saluted before walking off.

Areto hadn't come with him; she had opted to stay behind after word got to him that Ruby had been found. Though from what she along with the survivors of the two squads that had been on patrol with her have said something seriously wrong had gone down in the farmlands. That said he was glad to hear that Ruby was safe, the idea that one of his closest friends had gotten hurt or worse, killed, was not something he wanted on his conscious. On top of that, he was afraid Yang would probably try to kill him.

Jaune descended a flight of metal stairs reaching the ground floor, Arcadians and Brythonians were moving building materials or carrying ammunition to some of the storage buildings freed up for their use. Jaune would however describe them more as sheds but the station leader. A Brythonian by the name of Holake Nansden, who was a clerk before the Rebellion, seemed rather keen to make it sound more than it actually was.

Speaking of the Brythonians, they looked to be in a sorry state. The levies that they were reinforcing were probably on their last legs well before they arrived. Jaune watched as a group of seven of them marched past, though marched was putting it kindly. Their slumped forms, uniforms and winter gear were riddled with mismatching patches or frayed edges. Rifles showing signs of cracks in their wood or metal frames and the worn down expressions told him of an army that was dying or dead without realizing it.

Jaune hoped, more for his sake than theirs that the ones here were the outlier rather than the normal in Emburacum. These men were the tattered remains that had been ground up in the fighting; some of them had been fighting since the Rebellion started without break. So it wasn't a surprise that they were so burned out, though he assumed other Levy, Militia or Army units were performing better with their longevity. Or the Loyalist Allies are going to be forced to pick up the slack soon and in Jaune's admittedly uninformed opinion that would mark the effective end of the Brythonian Realm.

He continued on until he found a group of soldiers talking in a group. Jaune still didn't have a helmet that the Arcadian forces used which was starting to become bothersome but that was an issue for another time. He was confident that it was Captain Melchior Walden he saw in the middle as she was one of the few Company Captains with her Aura unlocked. Thus the only one that seemed to carry a melee weapon other than him in the vicinity. This, according to rumors, was a way to show pride in having Aura rather than a neutral or even reluctant feeling that a fair number of people in Arcadian society felt.

This again had to do with the weird beliefs his people had, many followed or believed in the path his father took in denying the use or activation of Aura. Jaune reckoned in the case of his father that he didn't keep it locked by choice, as even Jaune had to admit his father was abnormal though he never explained himself and people just attributed his apparent disuse of Aura as principal rather than circumstance.

As he had technically beat team RWBY with their Auras in a fight while wearing a simple plate harness and a normal sword something that by most normal conventions should have been impossible. Even the Praetorians were strict about it, only a handful had their Auras unlocked, Areto had dropped a few hints that most opted to go into exile for some reason that he couldn't get his head around.

While Sanian and Talbek at first seemed to have their Auras unlocked Jaune however suspected that they were closer to Mages as they could do far more than most Aura users he knew. He shook his head violently, now wasn't the time to get sidetracked on that.

Walden turned to face him with her long hafted war hammer strapped to her back. Jaune found it to be oddly in synch with her Company's specialty which made this posting more of an annoyance to her.

"Commander, thanks for coming to see us before heading off to fight the war and leaving us here to babysit the locals." Melchior Walden said causing the assembled group to turn before sharply saluting him. Jaune winced on the inside at her tone and words as she took her helmet off revealing her frizzy red hair with the piercing grey eyes, a small puckered scar on her forehead.

"Good to see you as well Captain Walden, and yes I'm returning to Luguval for the time being seeing as it appears that you're more or less settled in here." Jaune remarked.

"Aye, playing babysitters for these dead men walking seems like a valid use of three full companies of infantry."

"I'm glad you agree because believe it or not this is the best position to keep you in."

"You're going to have to explain this one to me because I'm a bit lost in how defending this place is the best play for us. Now to be fair I understand why we need someone to defend here, it's vital to the Loyalist efforts to fight and assisting the garrison here is smart now that I've seen them but why us. There's still more than a battalion of Brythonian Levies and militiamen in Luguval, it feels like a fucking waste to be here." She pointed out and Jaune nodded slowly dreading what he was going to have to do next.

A notorious thing about Captain Walden was her temper, according to Adjunct Lange's file about her; Captain Walden had already been cited for minor insubordination after disregarding orders. Resulting in an assault on what was potentially an enemy held Outland village without proper support. Then being restricted to quarters after striking a fellow officer during an argument after calling in danger close artillery on top them when they began to get overran by Creatures of Grimm in that same village. Chances were if this Regiment hadn't been put together she was either going to lose her commission or be placed in command of a border garrison with no hopes for promotion or transfer. Heim had even told him that if she showed signs of causing trouble it was best to shut her down hard even going so far as to remove her from command when they reached Terrelan. Jaune was sort of doing that now but tweaking it a little for a more diplomatic approach.

"Come with me Captain." Jaune said gesturing for her to follow as he waved the assembled soldiers to disperse. A few seeming to exchange looks though he couldn't say for sure with their helmets as Walden stepped forward with him until they were clear of any potential eavesdroppers.

"Captain, I understand your concern but remember I'm still in command of this Regiment and I do not appreciate the disrespect so brazenly displayed. If I think placing you here at full company strength with two other companies is a smart idea then that's that. The other company Captains have no problem with my orders but are you going to make this an issue? If you have any doubt, that's fine, come to me about them. Because let me go ahead and tell you now that if you continue voicing your opinions so openly like that I will hold your company in reserve as long as I can and if you don't like that then feel free to turn in your bars so you may join the troopers as one of them." Jaune said as he leaned in close to talk with Walden, he could see the flash of restrained anger then of guilt in her eyes as she looked down.

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to question your role as Commander, it's just that my men are itching to prove themselves. But the winter season and the way it feels like we're being forced to play second fiddle to these Brythonians who half the time make it feel like we're the burden to them when they're the ones losing this war is starting to show on some of my troops." Walden admitted and Jaune nodded.

"Make no mistake Captain I understand more than you might think. It's cause of that attitude though that I need you here, and it's why I'm planning on shifting armor under your tactical command." Walden frowned slightly.

"Sir, might I ask what it is that you suspect might happen, I know it's above my pay grade but what's the A.O. looking like?" Jaune was glad that Heim or Areto weren't here as they would no doubt get upset at the candid nature he was having with a junior officer.

"Look, let's just say my confidence in our Brythonian Allies to continue holding the northern line isn't on stable ground." Walden's frown deepens before nodding as understanding began to grow on her face.

"You want us to be a Q.R.F for Emburacum?"

"That's correct, Luguval is close enough to support them if they call for help but far enough that if we're delayed even a little then the battle may be lost before we even arrive; so I plan on distributing sealed orders in a sort amount of time in that scenario. This is also why I withheld a lot of context to your mission to avoid leaking anything to the Brythonian liaisons that I have sniffing around us in Luguval. So Chimeras will be here soon for you to use and at most two tank platoons to be seconded here but avoid talking about this. As far as your soldiers are concerned right now you're simply holding a vital supply point."

"I understand Commander." Walden said before pausing and Jaune almost found it almost cute to see the Captain reign in her frustration before finally speaking.

"One more thing Commander, I'm not some fancy well-bred bitch like you'd see with some of the other Company Captains mainly because I spent more time spitting blood as a grunt than an officer. So I'm grateful that you allowed me to be a part of your Regiment. I know I'm a pain in the ass but at my core I'm a loyal Arcadian first, a soldier second, and a Captain last so I've never felt the need to be polite so long as the job gets done but after hearing the rumors that I was going to be demoted or transferred to a unit that saw no action making me count the days till voluntary retirement was open I got worried. I'll admit I've got a temper but I'm trying to work on it, so, I'm sorry for being a bitch. Sir." Walden said and Jaune nodded in return.

"It's okay Captain, I know how you feel but here we are, all we can do is be the best we can be and hopefully live long enough to learn from our mistakes. So thank you for your candor, you may return to your soldiers." Jaune said patting the Captain's arm as she saluted and strode away. All things considering that was a pretty simple fix, a part of him had been worried that this might have had some weird internal long term issue but it went surprisingly well.

This was a good thing for him since he already had enough problems as it was, adding the lack of faith by the various Company Captains would probably be one of the last nails in the coffin of his future as a commander of soldiers. Sure a few months ago before he found himself in this position that wouldn't have really bother him but now failing the people who served with and under him was something that terrified him.

Tucking away that fear Jaune turned away from Walden who once again was talking to her men before heading towards the eastern wall. There a convoy of troop transport trucks escorted by a squadron of Tauroses was rumbling idly as the drivers warmed up the cold engines while the few soldiers left to accompany them were running over the terrain reports of the last hour for anything abnormal they might find on the road back to Luguval.

The Regiment had more or less combed the area around Luguval to understand the terrain that they may fight on. Jaune was certain that nothing sort of a full scale invasion by either the Rebels or the Creatures of Grimm could catch him off guard.

In the back of his mind, the chiding voice of his Aunt Lilith warned him of using phrases of certainty. Jaune had to agree with that as he understood that to tempt things that may be considered as faith, destiny or even gods wasn't a good idea.

---

Six Hours Later…

Commandant Hector Lannes stood up in the passenger seat of his jeep surrounded by his rear echelon units and reserves. Above him illumination flares were popping off in the night sky. Stray tracer rounds ricocheted into the dark but judging from a quick glance from his time piece dawn was right around the corner.

Four battalions of infantry pushed into the eastern sections of the town called West Brom. The distant rattle of gunfire, the soft booming of explosions and even the faint sound of yelling could be heard. The loyalist infantry assaulting four miles of fixed positions consisting of palisades, small trench lines and houses turned into fortified strong points.

To his immediate north or the center of their forward line were two battalions of Brythonian Levies that had assaulted through the center of the Rebel lines. In the southern portion of the line were five of his eight Fusilier companies had pushed into the town outskirts spear heading three Gaellian ATC-24 tanks from his attached armored section of eight tanks as they made their way towards their objective. Further north the Ravenna and Nordika Assault Group was pressing downwards into the town.

Light artillery was falling down on both the attackers and defenders; nearby Lannes a dozen mortar teams were working tirelessly to launch high explosive shells into the town or flares into the sky. While fourteen light caliber field guns rained shells down on enemy strongpoints further in the town.

A shell exploded nearby causing him to flinch as the pinging of shrapnel could be heard as it glanced off the jeep's hood. Somewhere behind him someone was calling out for a medic as someone screamed in pain.

"Commandant, all units have reported Point 1 has been taken, they are now proceeding to Point 2." The voice of one of the assembled radio operators called out and he grinned at that.

The assault plan had been put together under the guidance of Marshal Calvet along with the commanding officers of the Ravenna and Nordika forces. The plan was broken into three key points. The first part's objective, or Point 1, was the initial assault of West Brom to take the bridges that ran over the Hafren River. The Loyalist Brythonians would push two battalions of infantry with the support of nine of their eighteen Ironside Infantry tanks into the center taking the main road and central bridge.

At the same time the Gaellian forces, led by his second in command Capitaine Nathan Gounelle, would push up from the south to take the south bridge. As the combined Ravenna and Nordika assault group came from further north commanded by Colonnello Rana of the Ravenna taking the three northern ancillary bridges. Point 2 would be taking the main thoroughfare; the Brythonians would cut the Rebel force in two as the north and south groups pressed forward pinning the two halves into town.

As for the final point they would close the pincers around the Brythonian main thrust destroying both sides of the now split Rebel force. While reserves were brought in to strengthen their position against any remaining rebel force outside that would try to relieve one of the flanks. With those three objectives complete they'll have at least a week to fortify West Brom from any potential counter attack that the Rebels may have sent in response.

Their intelligence along with the advance scouting from the Nordika force suggested that the Rebels couldn't afford to hold all three fronts at the same time. The moment any force got through the Rebels wouldn't be able to put up a proper defensive line unless they pulled back. They however had to make sure that most of bridges stayed intact as keeping those bridges was pivotal to the war effort in this region.

As with those bridges in their control the chances of launching a late winter or early spring campaign. Retaking major Rebel towns like Arfon, Isca, Dunragit and the fortress Camulodunum would be easier on their supply lines. If West Brom and Buelt to the south weren't taken then they would be forced to stretch their supply lines thin when spring came around.

Heavy fighting will resume along the entire front rather and the intensity will be even worse. As no doubt the failure of the Rebels to complete their early efforts would leave them but one real choice. A grinding, large scale war that hasn't been seen for at least eighty years since the Great Kingdoms had fought their own war.

Of the two towns though Buelt was the harder town to take, reports had it that at least five regiments of Rebel infantry, or roughly 16,000 soldiers, with nearly forty tanks and over fifty heavy caliber field guns. There were even rumors of a demi-company of Foot Knights and Dragoons led by a traitor Realm Knight.

Lannes was confident however that Colonel Galath, one of the few regular Brythonian Army commanders still alive, could take it despite the setbacks such of a four day long blizzard hitting them. Facing against Buelt were several trained Levy companies that had been in the thick of fighting since the onset of the war and Galath's original Army Regiment. Supporting Galath were the other two battalions of Marshal Calvet's Division and six companies of Nordika warriors.

Supposedly another Arcadian Regiment appeared in the North and was ordered to hold up near Luguval or Greydon for the time being. No doubt due to the terrible radio signals in the north, but Lannes knew that was something the he knew the other Arcadians in Terrelan didn't want. Yet until the communication problems in the north were fixed they had opted instead to send a physical message to retrieve this mislaid regiment.

"Understood, relay to Marshal Calvet's staff that our front is inside the town limits, I'm waiting for word of effectiveness from Capitaine Gounelle then make ready for Point 2." Lannes finally said to the radio operator. Turning away from him Lannes grinned despite the biting cold. Nothing warmed the body and soul up more than winning.

---

Later…

Lannes watched from a porch of a house as the flow of his injured being carried out of town increased from three to four men at a time to nearly a dozen. Even to his ears, the distant tone of combat seemed to have shifted and was getting closer rather than further away.

His gut told him something had happened that rapidly was turning the battle against them. None of the radio operators could get a clear answer from their respective companies as Lannes questioned the status of Point 2. The ill omens became more tangible however as a deep rumble of thunder from the north grew violently erratic.

"Commandant? Something is happening with the Brythonians." One of the radio operators called out from inside the house. His voice carrying through as the windows and doors had been blown away during combat earlier.

Stepping inside wasn't really warmer but the bite of the cold wind wasn't as bad as he took the proffered radio headset from the nearest man. Listening to it Lannes concern started to grow. As it sounded like the Brythonian reserve force was withdrawing and preparing for a counter assault. At least that's what he gathered as the Brythonian radio traffic was a mess of competing voices.

"What are these idiots doing? Who's in direct command of them?" Lannes asked looking at the radio officer.

"Sir, I believe that's Major Dunnett." The man said and Lannes grimaced. He never understood why the Brythonians insisted on keeping the old practice of using only Blue Bloods for their officer corp. Even Gaellia understood that there was a wealth of experience in the common line officers that served to bolster their overall fighting capability more so than just noble lineage.

Case and point Major Dunnett was in it for the medals. Rumors were abound that Dunnett had only been given three companies to command further north before pulling strings to replace the man originally in overall command of the Brythonian contingent. Part of it had to do with one rumor, allegedly, saying he had pulled units out from other Levy Commanders for his own use. Another rumor but more plausible was because of the pressure of his family which was one of the more affluent families still loyal to the Crown. The only reason why he didn't try to take overall command of the West Brom operation was the fact that Marshal Calvet was an experienced Gaellian officer. Had it been another Brythonian Officer, Lannes would have been worried that they would have had Dunnett giving orders.

"Someone get in touch with him, we need to know what he's doing and why." Lannes said before getting interrupted by another officer.

"Sir! I've got an urgent line for you!" The man said as he took their own proffered headset, the faint sound of someone yelling could be heard before he put it to his ear.

"Break! Break! This is Basker to Commandant Lannes, come in Lannes."

"Lannes here. What is it Basker?" Captain Basker was one of the more reputable Brythonian field officers, a solid veteran who had served nearly twenty years in the regular army before retiring. So now he was in charge of a Levy Company despite being older than most of the men he now commanded by at least a decade. So Lannes knew that Basker wasn't the kind of officer to easily break protocols to directly contact him instead of Major Dunnett.

"Enemy forces are counter attacking, initial thrust for Point 2 has failed, and Point 1 is now in jeopardy of being lost." Basker called out before there was a sharp crackle over the radio line.

"Acknowledge Basker. Interrogative, can you raise Major Dunnett?"

"Negative. Battalion Command is unresponsive. Captain Sutton is dead and Captain Hart is already retreating and no contact with any other companies. I am preparing to pull what platoons I can back from Point 1 south towards your units." Lannes felt his heart stop as he listened to Basker's panicking voice. A ripple of distant explosions that could be heard as a wash of static over the radio could be heard. The faint crackle of small arms fire seemed to pulse on the wind.

"What's the enemy strength Basker? I need to know what you're leading towards my men!?"

"Significant! Rebels appear to be reinforced by unknown factions at least two battalions worth with armor!" Basker screamed over the radio before another wave of static washed over his voice at the same time another radio operator spoke up.

"Sir! Capitaine Gounelle is requesting additional reinforcements; four companies of enemy heavy infantry just reinforced the Rebels and are pushing him and the flanks along Point 1."

"Fils de pute!" Lannes cursed loudly.

"Tell Gounelle to brace for more enemy contact on his right, he's got my permission to withdraw if holding Point 1 is untenable." Lannes said before putting the handset back to his ear.

"Basker? Are you there?" Lannes called out, for a brief moment he thought that the static was a signal that Basker was dead but after a few more moments Basker's voice came back.

"I'm here Lannes, my RTO is hit and I'm pulling through 9th Street and Greendale." Lannes knew that was a intersection that was about six blocks north from where his coma

"Listen up. Do not pull back into us just yet, I'm going to wheel my companies around to support you but don't let them hit us in the rear we're already taking steps to get some breathing room of our own."

"Roger that Lannes but be advised I can't stall for a lot of time before needing to withdraw, these bastards are pressing us hard." Came the reply but Lannes already tore the headset off as he turned around.

"Someone get me coms with Dunnett, that fucker has a collapsing center then alert the Ravenna and Nordika that they're gonna get hit hard and fast on at least two sides!" Lannes roared at the assembled group of men.

"Sir! Marshal Calvet is relaying on broad Net that Colonnello Rana of the Ravenna is being pincered by two platoons of Rebel Armor and a section of Foot Knights and that three unidentified companies of Mechanized units are rolling hard south on the center rear. He wants us to wheel our Armor around to support the Ironside tanks while he gets in the air with his Chevaliers." While Brythonia's elite Dragoons were a force to be reckoned with, over the years a select amount of their Sky Hunter technology had been traded with some of the other major powers in the region.

The Brythonian Elite weren't necessarily specialized, outside of being split between air and ground. They instead opted to have their Elite units be able to tackle almost any situation while the other regional powers approached the concept differently. Gaellia had their less armored but agile Chevaliers, the Nordika had no air borne knights but a heavy ground based berserker type called the Úlfhéðnar, while the Ravenna had their heavy Cataphract. Still it went unspoken that despite the leaps of their technology they didn't quite match up. As the experience along with the sheer amount of the Brythonian Dragoons and their Foot Knights wasn't something that any of them could ignore when it came to who was the most dangerous.

"Up in the sky!" Someone shouted from outside before Lannes could reply and small arms fire began to ring out. Lannes crouched down as did the others as six Dragoons came in before letting loose with their noise mounted guns peppering the rear lines. There was a sharp crack followed immediately by wet, meaty thump, and a radio operator fell down next to Lannes with most of his head missing.

Anti-Air fire roared up after the Rebel Dragoons causing them to break off from continuing their strafing. As three Safrans, quad heavy machine guns mounted on halftracks, which Lannes had under his command wheeled around to target them. Additional heavy machine gun fire added into the mix but he hoped that this would be enough to hold them off for the time being.

He stood before heading outside to see the mortar teams who were occupying a small clearing between a few houses were patching up some of their wounded. Men shouted or screamed while team leaders called for the rest to get back on their pieces.

"Enzo!" He called as his main Radio Telephone Operator came up from behind.

"Yes Commandant?"

"Make a Net Call and inform all of our units within West Brom to begin withdrawing when they make contact with the Brythonian Units inside with them. Then bring the reserve Capitaines to me as soon as possible. Then see if you can raise Army Command over at East Brom and inform them of the situation." Lannes called out as he headed towards the rear of their line. Rumbling idly on a small hill leading out of the town was the Command Platoon of his ATC-24 section. Pintle mounted machine guns were ripping out bursts at the distant Rebel Dragoons that were strafing the rear lines behind the Brythonians. Lannes cursed at the sight as he imagined that they were probably targeting the light artillery pieces.

"Vasseur!" Lannes called out and a man that was standing on the edge of the leading tank's turret with a set of binoculars telling the pintle gunner to adjust his aimed turned to face Lannes.

"What can I help you with Commandant?" He asked and Lannes found it rather absurd that Dominique Vasseur the Armor Commander was so blasé at what was shaping up to be either a bloody defeat or a pyrrhic victory.

"Did you hear the order?"

"I heard but I would prefer to know what your assessment is of the fight in the town, I've lost contact with my three tanks in there." Vasseur said and Lannes shook his head. That was new and rather abrupt which probably meant that they were taking out around either at once or too quick for them to bother reporting in.

"It's going bad, a full on counter attack along all three fronts, the center has already collapsed. I reckon the only way we can bounce back is if we repel the enemy on both fronts then make a concentrated push down the main thoroughfare."

"But if the Ravenna and Nordika are cut off and surrounded and the center is gone they'll never be able to mount another attack." Vasseur pointed out.

"That means we need to push out to engage the enemy units to the north and rescue them before they get annihilated." Lannes replied and Vasseur shook his head.

"There's no way we'll be able to help them in time but aye, suppose we have no real choice in the matter." He said before turning towards the man nearest to him.

"Buckle up, we're moving out!" Vasseur said before looking at Lannes.

"I'll push ahead and link with the Ironside Tanks, I suspect if Calvet doesn't die then he'll take control of the center from Dunnett." He said gesturing to the sky as five Chevaliers with the Marshal in front soared into the slowly brightening sky to engage with the Rebels. While Vasseur started turning his tanks northward Lannes turned back around in time to see three of his Capitaines approaching him with their adjutants in tow.

"We don't have a lot of time so I won't stand here fielding your questions, Capitaine Gounelle is withdrawing from the town, Capitaine Jégou, Capitaine Lagarde, I want the two of you to cover their withdrawal from the town. Capitaine Celice prepare your company to move out we're reinforcing the Brythonians as I take charge of the support sections then hopefully relieving the Ravenna and Nordika assault group. Now hop to it, we're on the wire here." Lannes called out clapping his hands hard as they ran back to their waiting companies. At the same time Lannes checked his side arm and his saber before hopping onto his jeep gesturing for his driver to move. A part of him didn't relish what was going to happen but he knew there was going to be a point where he'll need them.

Hundreds of soldiers were moving around, soon enough the support section leaders were gathering around him. Celice was already moving his Fusilier platoons after Vasseur's tanks as the first signs of the enemy appeared. The flash of distant cannon fire could be seen before the red glowing orbs of shells streaked towards the Brythonian positions. The flash and boom of high explosive rounds going off amongst their numbers could be seen as they scattered for cover.

As the Gaellian units got closer to the Brythonian positions he got a better idea of how they were on the verge of completely breaking, men running around with officers trying to get them organized under cannon fire. While Lannes couldn't see him he was fairly sure he heard the shrill yelling of Major Dunnett nearby.

Lannes however didn't have the time to deal with that man just yet. He began directing his heavy weapons teams to spread out taking up what positions they could. They entered in the various damaged homes or buildings to take up positions at the most advantageous windows or openings to fight from.

The most common support team came in the form of the Gaellian machine gun teams that used the AM-52 machine gun, their own take on the Arcadian Assault Stubber. It was capable of firing in long and accurate bursts more so than even their counterpart with the downside of requiring at most three men to carry the extra ammunition as the gun was a little heavier.

Then there were the Anti-Armor teams, these two to five man teams used either the TE-21 Launcher or the LBAT-90 Recoilless Gun. The TE-21 was a reusable shoulder fire rocket launcher but due to its long length required two men to crew it effectively. The LBAT-90 was a five man crewed wheeled or tri-pod mounted weapon that can fire HEAT, High explosive, or flechette rounds in a pinch against the Creatures of Grimm.

Lannes directed his LBAT teams forward towards some nearby hills; hopefully they could get into position before the enemy got to close. Jogging through the streets, Lannes headed towards the largest gathering of men he could see. As expected he could see the brightly decorated uniform of Major Dunnett gesturing at fresh faced officers or old men as he stood on his staff car.

"I don't care what he has to bloody say, I want him to turn around and face the enemy like a proper officer. Marshal Calvet needs us to take the bridges by the time he's finished with those blasted Rebel Dragoons and we'll bloody well take them. I won't tolerate cowardice or incompetency amongst my officers!" Major Dunnett was yelling at one of his men, a runner most likely, whose uniform was covered mangled with dark wet stains, either from melted snow or cooling blood.

Lannes felt a nugget of contempt for the man growing as he watched the man berate his subordinates. Dunnett had an immaculate, high quality fabric uniform threaded with gold and silver. A sword that looked more ceremonially than practical and numerous medals that claimed he had more victories than years alive. Worst of all Lannes suspected he really believed that he was a good officer.

"Ah! Commandant Lannes, can you please get you men into order, I don't want to be cover all the fronts because had I known that your men would break rank with some light fighting I would have asked Marshal Calvet for more men to command." Dunnett said gesturing flippantly towards West Brom and Lannes immediately wanted to throttle the man but luckily one of the younger officers broke in.

"Sir, I know we have enemy Mechanized coming down hard on us but if we hold our ground here we'll be at a disadvantage with how much armor they have over us. I suggest we start moving further into the town by companies. That way we can move a few companies to support the others in retaking the main bridge then relieving the northern Assault Group."

"No, if we break the Enemy coming at us then we can swing north and help them that way and we don't need to help the units inside the town already if their officers stopped being so selfish and just fought. So maintain formation and prepare to repulse them Captain." Dunnett interrupted.

"If the Ironsides move out with Commander Vasseur's tanks we can probably catch them before they know it. They can swing east then come up behind them as they're trying to dislodge us. Then have the Gaellians reform with our battalion in the center to stop the Rebel counterattack. From there we can then swing north to relieve the Ravenna and Nordika." One of the other Captains chimed in and Lannes had to admit it wasn't a bad suggestion but Dunnett shook his head.

"No, I've given the order to the Ironside tanks to begin pushing into the town; I don't want any more delays they'll form a spearhead to shatter the enemy attack and our forces in the town can come in to support them for a proper counter. Lannes and Vasseur can continue north while I redirect his companies in the town in his stead since he'll be relieving our comrades." Lannes felt the blood drain from his face as he finally stepped forward.

"Why would you do that? Your Armor is going to get chopped to pieces, whatever companies you have left intact in the town are still reeling from the Rebel counterattack. Even then we need the Armor out here to stop the enemy units coming down on us from the north, Vasseur doesn't have the numbers to push alone nor do I more than a single company at my back since my other two reserves are covering the withdrawal of my main units." The universe however seemed to have been waiting for those words as there was a shout of warning before the echoing boom of another shell exploding rolled over them as a nearby rooftop was destroyed.

The cracking and popping of small arms fire opened up all around them. The column of Ironside that were waiting to be sent into town began to move forward as there wasn't enough room to turn around safely. At the same time turning their turrets around to face the enemy who had a small height advantage overlooking the small dip in the land where this side of the town had been built.

The rear most tank fired its cannon at the advancing enemy. In return a shell howled in striking the rearmost tank immolating a fireteam that had been near it as the tank began to billow smoke though it wasn't completed destroyed as it fired its own gun again.

Unfortunately the Dragoons who had briefly peeled away to dog fight with Marshal Calvet made their return without any warning, thermal lance beams flashed out. One finished off the crippled tank, while another scythed through a second Ironside tank before it imploded showering everything around it in burning metal. In the distance one of the Gaellian tanks that were engaging with the distant mechanized units was hit as well, the beam practically decapitating oscillating turret before imploding a few seconds later.

The rest either ripped furrows into the surroundings that steamed and hissed from their intense heat rapidly cooling in the cold winter night. While men fell down dead, dying or with significant injuries as the faint smell of charred meat steamed into the air.

"Incoming!" Someone shouted and Lannes was tackled to the ground. At the same moment gunfire ripped through the assembled group from the west.

Snowy dirt rained over Lannes face, he was about to thank the man who saved him between spitting out dirt when he saw that the man had a glassy look in his eyes. Pushing the corpse off himself he rolled to his feet pulling his sidearm and saber out as the pops of small arms fire was directed towards the assembled group. It seemed that the Rebels further inside the town had reached them. The boom of cannon fire in the distance suggested that the Ironside tanks had also encountered the infantry as they tried to maneuver around to face the enemy armor to the north.

Looking around he couldn't see Dunnett as a few officers rallied tried to rally soldiers around them before directing them to face whatever enemy they could.

"Commandant! What do we do?!" Someone shouted nearby and Lannes turned to see a young man in a Brythonian Captain's uniform. He didn't look to be out of his teens complete with a sad looking mustache and spots on his face of teenage complexion.

"See to your men Captain and fight off the enemy and I'll see to mine." Lannes called back leaving the man behind as he finally got to his feet before moving towards a fireteam of Fusiliers who were crouched by the corner of a shed. Three of them turned the opposite corner to start firing with their MFA-40 rifles.

The MFA-40 was a 30 round rifle that fired rimless bottlenecked Intermediate cartridge loaded with Burn dust for propellant. Unlike the Brythonian and Ravenna firearms they didn't use Dust laced munitions. The Gaellian as well as Nordikans, who they often traded with, used ammunition that followed the fashion of the Arcadians with purely metal payloads with the occasional specialized Dust munitions.

"Sir, word is coming down the coms that Marshal Calvet is leading his Cavaliers north to assist the Ravenna and Nordika Assault group out but is also issuing a general withdrawal." One of them, a Lieutenant, who was crouched next to his radio operator said as Lannes joined them.

"Yea the Brythonians are a lost cause." Another man remarked as he loaded a full magazine into his weapon.

"Shut it trooper." The lieutenant snapped back causing the man to turn away.

"Give me that, and switch to the Marshal's Frequency." Lannes said but the radio operator shook his head.

"Negative sir, we've been trying to reach the Marshal for confirmation but we got no coms with him right now. I believe he's already out of range, unless we use a tank or jeep radio we won't reach him." Lannes sighed as he stood up to see the battle raging. Roughly twelve hundred men were holding about two square miles of the outskirt of West Brom. The houses, palisades and few hills in the east were making their defense barely tenable but Lannes needed to return to the support sections soon. To their south more flares cracked in the sky just before two Dragoons soared in firing their machine guns and Thermal Lances at someone before peeling off as anti-air fire chased after them.

"Commandant? Is any chance that Marshal Calvet signaled for assistance from East Brom?" One of the soldiers asked as they followed Lannes out of cover.

"If we're lucky then reinforcements should already be on the way." Lannes replied though he didn't add that there weren't a lot of units left behind that could really help. Chances were what could be sent wouldn't be enough to tip the balance of this battle back into their favor if the Rebel reinforcements were able to turn it in their favor so quick.

Lannes ascended a small hill where a LBAT-90 team was dug into the yard of a house he could see the rays of light as dawn crested the horizon. Enough to give him the ability to see the rough shape of the enemy force attacking them, a sharp crack and flash of the recoilless gun flared in front of him as it fired a HEAT round into the distance.

Following the white contrails of the hot round had Lannes not already been a cold he would have went cold at seeing the enemy force. While a rough guess, he estimated that there were at least a hundred vehicles. Admittedly most of them were troops transports, lightly armored with a single heavy machine gun but there were also at least twenty five tanks.

Lionheart and Ironside Tanks in Rebel colors moved in a loose wedge formation; while the numbers along were concerning he was more concerned about three particular tanks that led this formation. Two Lato Main Battle Tanks were flanking a revered Devil Dog.

Behind these tanks came a horde of mismatch uniform rebels from the transports. Some were setting up heavy machine guns or their own crew based Anti-tank weapons to return fire at his support teams. Despite their mismatched look Lannes had to give it to them for advancing with competent firing and maneuvering skills.

At the same time two ATC-24s were reduced to flaming ruins. One had been struck by several tanks at once. The other turned to slag from a lucky searing beam of the Devil Dog that had left a vapor trail in the air after it fired. He watched as it fired again, this time the beam cut into an outlying house setting off a fiery explosion that cooked whoever was inside that didn't die outright.

The sun began to appear on the horizon, bathing the battlefield in the first glow of sunlight. A part of Lannes wished that dawn hadn't come, as with the light there was no relief only dread.

---

Meanwhile…

To the south west well within West Brom Lieutenant Alceste Boissieu of the 4th Fusilier Infantry smashed open a window. As the glass fell away he aimed down across the street with his rifle before firing at a trio of Rebel infantry that were bayoneting one of his men to death.

The first few shots went wide before he tightened it up enough to drop one of them as the other two ducked behind the turned over wreck of a jeep. On the ground floor of his building someone must have noticed as the jeep along with chunks of body parts came apart as someone chucked a few grenades at them.

Down the street heavy machine gun fire ripped up and past them though Boissieu wasn't even sure who it was from or directed at.

"Guilloux!" Boissieu called out as he ducked away from the window just as enemy Burn Dust rounds smashed around the window frame setting off tiny puffs of fire that left scorch marks.

"Lieutenant, what is it?" A gruff voice called out as a short, stocky man with bushy mustache entered the room, his Sergeant First Class, Guilloux, appeared in his usual unmoved manner.

"Hear any word from the Commandant?"

"Last word we got was to pull out from the town; two companies are waiting to cover our retreat." Boissieu nodded at that, they had lost; any chance of taking the town was gone to the wind. What this meant for the grand scale strategic goals of Army Command was well above his pay grade nor did he really care he just wanted to get what was left of his platoon out alive.

"Alright Sergeant gather the platoon, we're moving out. Do we have any news on the status of the other companies?" Boissieu asked as someone shouted a warning and a muffled boom of a grenade went off either in their building or in the next one.

"Capitaine Gounelle has most of his company and the remains of Capitaine Fouché Company along with those Brythonian platoons that joined us, they're heading east already. We've lost contact with Auvray and the rest of the command platoon holding Velcon Plaza so we're probably all that's left."

Boissieu nodded at that as it would explain the machine gun fire outside as they had been trying to head in that direction before getting cut off when they ran into another enemy platoon. He might have been able to help Capitaine Auvray escape but instead he had lost several men before they were able to retreat back into the buildings.

The sound of fighting in the direction of Velcon Plaza was down to pops of small arms fire. The worst part about it was that the Auvray was trying to get a jump on a few Rebel Foot Knights escorting an Ironside tank. Had they linked up they would have killed some serious assets, not that it mattered in the long run.

"We've got baddies massing at the far end of the street." Someone was shouting as the two of them descended the main stairs. Three dozen soldiers were hunkering down in what had been a café but Guilloux waved the man down.

"Alright pack it up gents; we're phantoms in three. Marius, get some demolition charges rigged up." He said before turning to Boissieu.

"Sir, we're going to get overrun by the Rebs if we don't leave something behind to give them a show. I'll take 3rd Squad and put up a little fight then follow you."

"You're right; so take Porthos and Jean as well they're probably the best with the launchers but don't do something stupid like a last stand." Guilloux snorted at that.

"Glorious last stands is the domain of officers, I'll stick with the dirty hit and run tactics of an NCO." With a snort of his own Boissieu gestured for the platoon to move out. They moved through a hole in the wall that led to another building that they had made to avoid the choke point of the street as there weren't any alleys to move through.

The sound of rifle and machine gun fire began to rattle out behind them but no one turned around as they moved into the streets at the opposite end of the block. Fire teams broke left and right to take cover in the doorways of buildings or the few cars that were left from West Brom's inhabitants. Boissieu didn't understand what had happened to the twenty two thousand people that had lived here. Not that he actually cared; it was just one of the many things his mind was processing as he struggled to keep it together.

"Let's move!" He called out as the first rays of dawn were starting to poke out and for some reason he felt rather hopeful that they might make it out.

The screaming however seemed to suggest differently. Barging out from one of the buildings, dozens of Sais warriors loyal to Aelle charged at them with round shields, compact firearms and melee weapons. Boissieu however had long since ordered bayonets to be put on. So despite the initial surprise leading to four Fusiliers dying the Gaellian infantry met the enemy head on.

Men shouted in pain and rage as shots or the clash of metal rang out. Boissieu turned aside the thrust of a short sword before kicking the man's shield to create enough space to fire his rifle from the hip. The Dust rounds left sparks of fire as the wood and metal shield came apart but not soon enough as the man came at him again.

Ducking a swing then swiping clockwise he knocked the blade aside before sending his own thrust that penetrated the man's neck between his low rimmed helmet and his hauberk. With a twist he pulled the bayonet out through the side of the man's neck letting blood flood out of the gaping wound as the man felling gasping as he tried to stem the bleeding.

Though Boissieu didn't pay attention as two other men came at him, the first slashing his side but the blade had minimal effect outside of being a rather painful metal bludgeon. The other gave a blow to his back which sent him stumbling. He went into a roll but as he came up to fire someone rammed their shield in his face with a loud crack and a flash of white hot pain filled his vision.

He had to drop his rifle to ward off the follow up blow from an axe, pulling his dagger out he began to stab the man in the thigh but he must have had Aura as well as it felt like he was trying to stab a block of wood. With no other choice it became a contest of who could out hit the other.

Neither of them really won as Boissieu watched almost in the slow motion from the corner of his eye one of the Sais fighters dropped a demolition bundle. He then was vaguely aware that he could hear Guilloux, as he suddenly found himself on his back; there was a faint sense of shouting followed by gunfire.

More importantly was the cold sensation that Boissieu felt creeping through him, panic got a grip as he saw one of the platoon medics appeared above him saying something. Two other men appearing helping the medic as a fire team held position around him firing their weapons.

He supposed that the arrival of Guilloux had turned the tide in their favor though when he tried asking how the platoon was he noticed that his voice felt weird. Reaching up with a heavy arm he touched his ear and saw that there was blood on his fingertips.

A small part of his mind that could think clearly reckoned that since he was close to the blast as he was fighting that it must have not only broken his Aura but ruptured his ears at the same time. Though considering he could feel the medic ripping open his tunic there must be another wound on him.

His fear was starting to develop as he tried to ask if he was going to be fine, and he could vaguely hear them saying that in return but he could see the look on their faces. He'd helped his medics in the field enough to know that he wasn't in good shape. The muffled ripple of gunfire caused them to duck their heads over him. In the corner of his eye, one Fusilier went down in a flash of broken Aura and a Burn Dust round leaving a charred hole in the side of his helmet as he dropped dead.

Guilloux sent two fire teams down the road as a squad covered their rear firing at the retreating Sais warriors who sent their own bursts of gunfire back at them.

"Get the Lieutenant ready to move, we need to go. The dawn light will make it easy for the enemy to surround and kill us." Guilloux said turning to the field medic only to see him packing his field bag up, looking down he could see that the Lieutenant was dead. He had shrapnel along with an axe wound in his chest with who knows what kind of internal bleeding. The fact he had managed to live long enough for them to see he had little chance was somewhat of a cursed miracle.

Guilloux had served with the Lieutenant for nearly four years and while he never really said it he had thought that young lad was shaping up to be a good officer. Now though it didn't matter as he lay dead in the cold street, his blood already freezing to the cobblestones. With a sigh he reached down to the Lieutenant stripping off the man's tags along with any personal effects he could find. A pocket watch with someone else's initials carved onto it, inside the cover was the image of a pretty young woman. Along with the sheath for the danger as it had his initials printed onto it.

As he took spare magazines off the dead to refill his own pouches, Guilloux couldn't help but let his mind wander a little. His ingrained abilities earned from years in the Army casually directed the remains of the platoon eastward through a side street that led them towards a small park.

He always believed that death was a natural end for the life of a career soldier, in his fifty years of life, thirty three of which he was in the Army he had seen more people die than he had seen retire to live happy lives or even retire. Constant skirmishes with bandits, the nightmare inducing cult armies of the dread Abyssal Horde and the inevitable doom that the Creatures of Grimm brought has left scars on his soul that would never heal. Yet he always held that nugget of hope that while his generation may not be the ones to finally save their species from doom, those that came after may live to see a happy end. Yet again however he had to look at the corpses of men far younger than him.

As the battered platoon entered the park, Guilloux felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. With a shout of warning he dove behind a tree as thunderous gunfire raked over them. In the distance, a Lionheart Tank colored in the purple, gold and white of the Arch-Knight Lineage appeared before firing its main gun.

The high explosive shell ripped through a nearby tree before blowing the snow covered ground up sending a legless corpse of a man flying into the air.

Yet it wasn't alone, Guilloux felt the hard impact of a rifle round strike his chest a moment before the flash then searing heat of the Dust round exploded against him as it knocked him against the tree. Raising his rifle he looked down the scope he had long since put on it before squeezing off rounds at the distant figures.

The rattle of small arms punctuated by the boom of the tank cannon seemed to close in around the beleaguered soldiers. He was hit two more times as he moved back with the rest of the platoon though now there were less than a dozen of them as they closed up in a small circle. The radio operator was dead, and they had no more support weapons. They had no more grenades, barely any ammunition left or even Aura as Guilloux felt his own break under a fourth hit.

Another shot ripped a burning hole through his thigh, the pain of which sent him to the snowy ground. Looking down he could see the top half of his leg was a mess of ripped up and singed flesh. The part of his mind that wasn't broken from the pain noted that there was a chance that the Burn Dust round broke his femur in two when it exploded as he noticed that his leg only partially moved with him as he crawled back.

As he tried to pull himself together Guilloux felt his anger increase as he saw the enemy get closer. It wasn't Levies or Militia, these men moved with practiced professionalism in their formations. They methodically strode amongst the downed men putting either another round through their heads or stabbing them with bayonets. Sprinkled amongst them was the armored form of a Foot Knight that stabbed down as well into the prone bodies of his platoon.

Two more Lionhearts appeared with more Rebel infantry and four more Foot Knights. He reckoned that Capitaine Auvray must have spotted the vanguard to this force which turned to engage then destroy them.

His heart crawled up to his throat as a new figure emerged, a giant in purple, black and gold armor with the skinned faces of people adorning the large pauldrons. A child's face stretched out over the helmet in a parody of a scream. In one hand it had a serrated tooth chainsword and the other a large bolt weapon like he had once seen the Sisterhood from Arcadia use.

"Ahh, finally, though I would have preferred to have done this myself." The giant boomed as he casually stomped on the leg of one of the wounded but still alive soldiers. The man screamed loudly as he thrashed about. Trying to escape but he was trapped by the boot on his trousers that had turned his leg into mush.

"Blessed One, we understand but we're almost ready to deal the final blow to their forces." A Foot Knight said. Even Guilloux could see that the elite foot soldier was nervous in the presence of someone or something that could casually stand there in grotesque beauty. All while having a man screaming and pleaded underneath their boot as if it was the most normal or even pleasant thing he could experience at the moment.

"Are there any of these, Arcadians, you mentioned amongst these peasants?" The giant asked and the man shrugged.

"I cannot say Blessed One but all signs point to that they're not here for the moment."

"Well, even if they're not here, I'm sure a nice little appetizer would suffice, it might even draw them out to fight." The armored giant said as it moved off the now dead man to stand over Guilloux. At first he had been planning on drawing his sidearm to try taking another enemy with him. But now he couldn't seem to muster the ability to draw his weapon. The chain weapon began to purr as the armored giant bent over him.

"Your resistance would be most appreciated; I can't stand it when people spoil the fun." The giant said and Guilloux could only watch in fear as the chain teeth began to whirr as they came close to his arm

Guilloux tried to pull his pistol out to put a bullet in his mouth but the giant pressed the whirring blade into his wrist as it gripped the pistol handle. He screamed as he felt the skin, flesh then bones of wrist being pulverized.

"Now, now, that's very accommodating of you; do continue to scream as long as you can, you've got a voice that carries rather well." The giant said as the chainsword descended slowly again.

---

Later...

Lannes watched from a distance as one of the remaining ATC-24's bounced a shell from the crippled Lato Main Battle Tank. The deflected shell left a furrow in the side of the tank before careening off into the side of a house shattering the wall. Soldiers nearby it took cover as small arms fire cracked across the intersection that they were holding as Rebel infantry closed in.

As he looked up into the dawn sky seeing that morning was fully upon them and Lannes reckoned they had weathered the attack fairly well so far. At the same time he looked at the burning mess that had once been the Devil Dog tank. It had cost them five LBAT-90 guns, four TE-21 teams, two of the ATC-24's and one of the two Ironside Tanks that had managed to avoid the initial ambush their comrades had gotten into.

The two Brythonian tanks supported their position to keep the Devil Dog at range for as long as they could before one got turned into slag by a Dragoon Lance. While the other one was disabled by a section of Rebel infantry that blew out one of its treads before the Devil Dog rushed in to finish it off.

Yet that unlucky death was what brought down the Devil Dog tank; three TE-21 teams had hidden in one of the houses on the furthest edge of their line. As it was destroying the tank with its Melta Cannon, the three rocket teams hit the back of its turret. This caused a critical failure inside of its gun killing the tank. The backwash of the explosive however took down the front half of the house that his men had hidden in. If any of them lived through the explosion there wasn't time to dig them out from the smoldering ruins

As for the two Lato Main Battle Tanks, Marshal Calvet scored the killing blow on the first Lato but Lannes had seen him get hit in return from one of Rebel Dragoons. Vasseur and his tanks were able to cripple the second Lato tank but it was still able to fire its main gun yet for the most part was a nonissue in this battle.

Despite everything their own armor had very little left to offer, two ATC-24s remained along with three Ironside Tanks that had fought their way out of the ambush later on though they were all in rough shape. There was one LBAT-90 left and four TE-21 teams in terms of infantry or crew based Anti-Tank power. In addition to that they were probably down to less than eight hundred men even with the units from the town rejoining them.

Lannes also made sure to dispatch a platoon to watch over their transports who mostly escaped the air strafes of the Dragoons when they hit the artillery positions. If those went down now though there would be no escape. Though that wasn't to say he was certain that they could escape cleanly. Whoever got the short straw on being their rearguard would probably be mauled badly if not completely wiped out.

Reports from his screening units in the town however stated that only half of the expected units returned from the first wave assaults. So he had directed his Capitaines still alive to start a slow withdrawal from West Brom. Unfortunately the number of enemy infantry had begun to grow over the last hour of fighting, at this rate they'll run out of ammunition before the enemy stopped coming.

On the bright side, the last coherent radio transmission from the Nordika-Ravenna Group suggested that they managed to force open a corridor to withdraw north. On the not so bright side they would not be able to regroup with them. This meant they were in full retreat and left them as the sole Loyalist force for the Rebels to focus on.

"Commandant, the companies are ready to leave." Someone called out as he turned to see a three man team of Brythonian Levies, the lead man with the sigil for a Lieutenant said. Lannes ducked his head as a Dragoon strafed their position. The Rebels had air supremacy since the last of their Anti-Air units died about twenty minutes ago and no one has seen any of the other Chevaliers.

"Order the withdrawal." He said before turning to the soldiers of the squad he had taken command of after their section leader got his leg blown off.

"Go tell the Brythonian 1st and 3rd Levy Companies that they'll withdraw first followed by each company past them and inform Capitaine Celice that he'll be on the rear guard with the platoons from the Brythonian 6th and 8th Levy Companies. Commander Vasseur will provide support with his tank." Lannes said as four men ran off to find their intended recipients. As the assembled force began to withdraw, the Rebels started their killing blow.

Five companies of Rebel infantry accompanied by two sections of Lionheart tanks made a spearhead into their western positions when Lannes gave the order to retreat. Three platoons of Fusiliers and two Levy platoons along with Capitaine Celice's company would get cut off from any other supporting platoons or Vasseur's tank. As they were getting annihilated they would buy valuable time for the rest of the forces to push hard south east.

Lannes was waving the wounded through a picket line three miles east of their first position outside West Brom when the battle started. A Brythonian runner was trying to tell him what happened but he knew that they were finished. He ordered Vasseur to take up position watching the retreat after the tank commander had informed him of what happened.

Looking up at the sky, Lannes could see three of the Dragoons forming up as they descended towards his position. Accepting his faith as the soldiers around him tried to find what cover they could he waited for death. The only cover they had were some snow covered hedges but nothing that would truly protect them.

Yet it seemed faith didn't want him, as behind the three Dragoons coming down through the clouds were two aircraft. Lannes wasn't sure what happened but there was a distance droning of heavy caliber autocannons as one of the Dragoons erupted in flame and smoke before the smashing into the snow as a fireball.

The other two Dragoons broke off their attack run to engage the new aircrafts. The crump and boom of heavy ordnance renewed as someone shouted something causing Lannes to turn around. A five strong formation of Arcadian Tempest tanks churned over the snow. A few hundred feet behind them Armored Personal Carriers screening troop trucks before the APCs disgorged squads of soldiers.

Lannes ordered his troops to the transports as the Arcadian infantry moved to cover them. However he could see that this wasn't meant to counter attack but merely to try saving as many of their allies as they could.

One of the Tempest Tanks erupted in flames as a Rebel Dragoon did a low strafe with their Thermal Lance despite an Avenger Strike Fighter trying to take it down. Gun fire raked across their position fiercely as more Rebel Infantry got in sight of them and dozens of men either went down dead or were pulled by comrades towards the vehicles. Lannes had the feeling that these were the unexpected reinforcements; even from a distance he could hazard a guess that they were in fact Army Regulars, Rebel Allies, or even professional mercenaries.

Overhead four Arcadian Vulture Gunships descended from the sky before they unloaded their payload at the same time. Dozens of rockets and hundreds of autocannon rounds hurtled at West Brom or the enemy units closing in on them. Explosions ripped through their ranks mauling the advancing infantry.

Return fire was almost instantaneous as ground fire arced up at the four gunships. Just as they flew apart to avoid two searing beams of Thermal Lances as Rebel Dragoons went after them. Trailing behind the Arcadian ground formation four Hydras opened up with bursts of autocannon fire while Arcadian Heavy Stubber fire rattled up at them, sending the two Dragoons searing into the ground as fireballs.

A pair of gloved hands grabbed Lannes and he turned to see two Arcadian soldiers pulling him along. He had just been standing there as rifle fire struck the ground near him.

"It's good to see you!" He called out though the soldiers didn't respond because they either didn't care or just couldn't hear him due to the sheer noise of the retreat.

Glancing over his shoulder Lannes felt that fleeting hope quickly disappear as he shoved the two soldiers helping him along aside. Unfortunately, he only saved one as a giant in purple armor turned one into a cloud of broken armor and gore. Lannes wasn't sure what killed the man but he had a sinking feel that the giant literally ran through the man.

Someone screamed something and all the soldiers nearby turned their weapons on the giant while Lannes sprinted a dozen feet then dove to the snow. At the same time the loud booming of the giant's own weapon roared as the soldiers opened fired. Lannes watched as men erupted in fountains of broken armor and gore as the giant let out a choking sound that vaguely reminded him of laughter.

In return the small arms fire exploded like a rain of sparks against the giant's purple armor. Though it had enough weight to cause the giant to not stand there and try taking it as it moved around blasting or physically hitting soldiers. Soldiers died in droves as they were blown apart or their limbs shredded as they giant moved amongst them like a demon from a fairy tale.

One of the Tempest Tank peeled around, its turret traversing trying to get a lock on the armored giant who constantly moved. No one expected however to see a second purple giant quickly scaling the Tempest before hammering a fist at the hatch several times before grabbing the handle.

With a shriek of stressed metal the giant pulled with both arms at the handle as heavy stubber fire raked across the giant's armor nearby Chimera before the gunner lost his head to the first giant. The metal hatch popped with a loud crack before the giant threw down a cylindrical device that it pulled from his waist.

Hopping off to join the slaughter, the device went off before the crew of the Tempest could try shoving it back out the hatch. The resulting internal explosive set off a chain reaction that showered the area in burning debris.

"Go! Run!" A voice shouted at Lannes who was trying to get away but he couldn't get the strength to stand up as all he wanted to do was cower. Looking up he could see another Arcadian soldier, who was wielding a short sword and a machine pistol firing at the giant. Nearby a dozen other Arcadians, who Lannes realized must have their Aura unlocked moved in firing compact firearms or their rifles as those without Auras limped or were helped away by Brythonians or Gaellians.

Lannes wasn't sure what really happened next as he jerked up with a start to see he was in the back of a truck. A Brythonian soldier who saw him looking around in confusion explained how they dragged him to safety after he was knocked unconscious. One of the Arcadian Vultures exploded right above them when it got hit by a Thermal Lance and the concussive blast must have knocked him out.

As Lannes looked around he could see he was with a mix of Arcadians, Gaellians and Brythonians. Two of the Arcadians were holding down one of their comrades as he yelled in pain while a Gaellian medic was trying to stop the bleeding from the stump of his leg. The floor of the truck sloshed slightly with blood on the bumpy road.

The crump of distant explosions could be heard as he unsteadily moved to push aside the flap at the back of the truck. In the morning grey sky he could vaguely see aircraft circling in dogfights or strafing unseen ground targets. A few hundred meters behind the convoy of troop trucks, Tempest Tanks covered the retreat of the last ATC-24 and Ironside tanks as they withdrew from the field of battle.

Commandant Hector Lannes watched as the skyline of West Brom disappeared behind a dip in the road. A part of him wanted to think about what had happened, to feel remorse and anger at the lives lost. Yet all he could do was laugh, for some reason most of the truck's occupants began to laugh with him thought no one could say for sure if they were laughing from relief at being alive or because somewhere inside them they had lost something that they knew they would never get back again.