January 1731 City of Ber, Province of Ciresia, Osterian Empire.
It was beautiful.
Such a description was the only thing that came to mind as Meyer watched the scene before him.
His eyes were glued to the magnificent sight as he held himself back from falling forward, the winds intent on slamming his face on the ground.
Throughout it all, his eyes remain glued as hundreds of fireballs exploded above them, some lifted up until it dispersed while those left could only struggle at the wind's sheer might, before succumbing to its will.
He looks back to the colonel, his expression unfazed as his shadow looms itself against him. His saber raised as he feels the magic roll over from him.
It really was a terrifying sight.
And all of it is coming from a young man.
Was what Forst thought as he looked back up at the little colonel before him, his head bowed from the burst of wind. His mind was a confused mess as he pondered on the boy's latest exploits.
The sheer might presented before him was something he had never experienced. Even through the years of military service, magic like this was never done, simply from the fact it would kill anyone that tried.
He shakes his head in exasperation, his mind going back to the speech.
His demeanor and the presence he exuded all turned at the drop of a hat.
His eyes that were once cold turned awe inspiring, his demeanor which inspired fear now demanded loyalty and all of this left the surrounding men wanting.
Wanting for the leadership he has shown. The victory and glories he promised, one that declared the times of greatness that Drissia once held.
The sheer charisma he exuded turned the surrounding men into puddles. All that was left was for him to deliver on the power he talked of.
And now he has delivered.
"All men! FORWARD!"
Thousands of footsteps thundered and a hundred more fired. The Drissian lines advanced, keeping its formation as it advanced towards the panicking Osterian lines, one that was shaken from the magic performed before them.
Colonel Falk was not having a good time. Another of the five hundred strong salvo was shot down by magic of unimaginable magnitude, one he was sure to be written in the history books.
It would have left him ecstatic if not for the fact he's fighting against the one that performed such magic.
"AIM!" He shouts once more, his saber as magic brings his order throughout his men.
The men around him scrambling to put themselves together, the continuous feat of magic leaving them unsure, striking against their morale.
"FIRE!" The cacophony of gunfire strikes against the Drissian lines. The smell of smoke was apparent as the soldiers around him once more reload their guns.
Another explosion erupts as hundreds of bullets whizzed past him, his shield pinging against their strikes, draining whatever reserves he had.
He looks at the Drissian lines, their morale unstoppable, their march unimpeded as they take another meter closer to a melee. Even as another volley downs tens of their men, they remain relentless.
"Fire at will!"
With nothing left in his hand and a melee imminent. He looks for Schwarts, his eyes roaming the battlefield before it widens in recognition. Hundreds of fireballs are once more unleashed.
This time though, it was directed at the mage standing before them, one who stood farther from his men, their hands forward as the fireballs slams against him, his figure mocking them for their efforts as his shield crackles, unfazed.
"Schwarts, cease your actions immediately!"
Falk's shout takes the men off from their stupor. Schwarts looking back in fear, before reining it in with a salute as he replies in panic.
"Sir! I advise you to take that man down immediately! He's an anomaly! One that should be taken down before he kills us all."
Falk's expression was filled with fury. "That is not your decision to make! Now proceed with the plan and halt the incoming Drissian Infantry!"
He nods back in reluctance as he aims that
Schwarts who was about to reply was interrupted by another bout of gunfire. Their shields cracking from the pressure as the muskets grow closer.
Falk's expression the takes a turn for the worse, realizing the fact that the Drissian has entered their musket's effective range, one that would take their toll on the already mentally fatigued mages.
"Schwarts, take your men with you! Retreat back! Your men cannot handle this much pressure! You'll only hold us back"
"But, sir!"
"Thats a fucking order, lieutenant!" He shouts, never noticing the encroaching Drissian lines.
Another bout of musket fire rips through. Tens of their mages succumb from fatigue and a hundred more shields shatter as men looked back in shock and injury.
Schwarts nod in affirmation before he turns back, "I'll ask for reinforcements from General Keller."
"See to it that you do."
He looks to his lines, his men now buckling under the pressure as they notice the mages retreat.
It was only a matter of time before a melee occurs and a full rout happens.
"What are you waiting for? Fire!" He shouts.
Though as he does, he notices something flash beside him, a saber crackling against his shield, a man with a manic grin standing beside him.
"Hello there Colonel."
He widens his eyes at the recognition of the uniform. His saber flashes, striking the man back as he jumps back to gain distance.
"Who the fuck are you!?"
"Schneider. Remember the man that's about to kill you. And the one that'll end this battle."
With those words, a shout erupts behind Schneider, "All men! Charge!"
A bout of gunfire follows before hordes of Drissian soldiers charge into a bloody melee.
"All men! Hold Firm!" Falk shouts to his men, bayonets raised, trying to scrape whatever morale they have as his men buy time for reinforcements.
A saber flashes once more and Falk ducks to the side before an explosion erupts beside him, his men shouting from the fire.
He slashes down with quick movement as an air blast exploded out from his saber as he spun.
Schneider gives a manic as his saber lights up in blue fire, his blue eyes glowing in magic. The two men ignoring the bloody melee around them.
"Let's see how long you can hold firm."
With those words, Falk charges with his saber raised, slamming it down before Schneider raises his guard and sparks erupt between them.
"Long enough to kill you."