2. The First Skirmish

“Forward!”

Nathanial heard the orders rattling down the ranks from the side. They were on the southern front, thousands of kilometers away from the bastion cities for the initial defense of their homeland.

He took a step toward the enemy, then another with the foot soldiers by his side before breaking out into a full sprint. His iron plates rustled against each other. Sweat dripping down the side of Nathanial’s face.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” Fredrick held onto his shield, racing toward the first battalion to reinforce them.

Nathanial ran by his side with unease gripping his heart. They had received the most basic training, only enough to maintain their staggering formation. And before them were the soldiers of the Empire. Battle-hardened soldiers who had fought countless wars with the beasts of the south.

The ground began to shake. Nathanial’s gaze focused on the flashes of silver and splatters of crimson dyeing the land. A metallic scent of rust filled the air as he drew closer. His boots sank into the damp earth.

Men with crimson and azure tabards lay on the ground. Some screamed from their wounds, applying pressure in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, while others remained motionless.

Yet Nathanial couldn’t stop.

He continued to surge forward with the second battalion as bodies fell from the left and right flanks. In front of them, the center line was crumbling, and Nathanial didn’t need to hear the officers’ orders to understand what that meant.

If the center of their ranks broke, then it would be over.

The entire army would rout in an instant.

Nathanial gritted his teeth, roaring with a strength that was wrenched from his soul. One that was mixed with fear and courage. The men beside him did the same. Voices of broken resolve marching toward the clear gap where another line of crimson banners fluttered.

Clouds of dust rose from the spells that blanketed the battlefield. Nathanial felt each step that was once measured grow faster and faster. Shields barely locked in place as the other line across from them rushed forward. And for a single heartbeat, Nathanial saw the faces of the Empire’s men clearly.

Faces filled with rage, fear, and a resolve he couldn’t understand.

Both sides collided with an eruption of metal slamming against metal. Wooden shields buckled and shattered. Bodies met head on driven by the momentum from the men behind. Nathanial clasped onto his shield, the straps fastened around his forearm as if clinging for life.

He bashed his shield against the first foe rushing him. The vibrations rattled his bones as the force nearly pushed him back, only for the men behind him to push him forward. Uneven footing on the once grass plains was now nothing more than blood-soaked mud. But he couldn’t stop here.

There was no time to think.

All Nathanial could do was drive his blade down and between the gaps of the man’s armor, through the opening he created. Warmth sprayed across his hand, and another roar followed. His gaze shot up at a man rushing him.

Nathanial ducked just in time as the blade scraped over the top of his helm. The force caused him to drop his sword, and with no other option, he tackled the enemy soldier, with both of their bodies slamming onto the earth.

Nathanial raised his shield and brought it down.

Thud.

Then he raised it again.

Thud.

He saw the man’s gaze filled with fear but didn’t stop.

Thud.

Blood dripped down from the circular shield. He released a ragged breath before finally bringing down the shield with both hands. The trembling didn’t stop. Even as the man Nathanial killed drew his last breath. He couldn’t forget the sight of the crushed skull with ivory bone and mangled flesh peering through the damaged helm.

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And at that moment, it seemed like the world had lost its color.

Nathanial looked around him.

The line had dissolved into chaos. Formations of a clean war had broken apart under the pressure, with both sides desperately trying to seize control of the center. Yet Nathanial didn’t see a battle of armies. He saw a wall of bodies trying to survive within it.

“Nathanial!” Fredrick’s voice cut through the chaos.

He turned to see Fredrick with two enemies pressing in on both sides. Nathanial gritted his teeth and picked up his fallen sword while rushing back. His blade struck the gaps in the iron chest plate, but instantly bounced off.

Nathanial’s eyes widened as the man turned to face him. He took several steps back as Fredrick drew his opponent away.

The Empire’s footman grinned, and that was when Nathanial saw it. A faint crimson energy coating the gaps in the soldier’s defenses and on the edge of his sword. Only one thought came to mind.

Aura.