I look out at the army coming towards us.
I can see hundreds of monsters and tens of thousands of men. Even a few dragons.
Did Tristan really have to bring this on his own king.
I mount my horse and turn to face the few hundred men that make up the Light Brigade.
I doubt any of them will survive this. But, they don't need to. They're a quick response cavalry unit made to buy time for the main forces to build a defensive front and reinforcements to arrive.
They don't need to survive the battle, they just need to survive long enough for reinforcements to come.
I raise my blade to the sky before I speak.
"MEN, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE HERE! WE WILL DIE DEFENDING OUR HOME, OUR PEOPLE! OUR LIVES HAVE MEANING BECAUSE THOSE WHO LIVE ON WILL REFUSE TO FORGET US! JUST AS WE REFUSE TO FORGET OUR FOREFATHERS! WE MUST NOT COWER IN THE FACE OF THIS WORLDS CRUELTY! WE ARE THE LIGHT BRIGADE! WE MUST TAKE A STAND! WE MUST FIGHT!"
I slash down and point towards the enemy as I begin my charge.
"ALL UNITS, CHARGE!"
We chharge forward like a tidal wave, cutting down any man or monster before us.
Thankfully all the weaker ones are waiting at the back.
Tristan knows we can't keep charging an army of this size to the enemy camp, we'd just be surrounded and crushed long beforew we got there.
We'll have to charge forwards and deal as much damage as possible to the enemy vangaurd before retreating.
The screams of men echo around me in the bloody mist as canons tear through our ranks.
The occasional burnt horse or man falling to the ground fills the air with an intense smell or burning flesh and blood.
I can't even tell how long we've been fighting. It feels like its been a few hours when the battle has only just started.
I really haven't missed the battlefield.
As soon as Britannia was big enough and powerful enough to force any other nation to submit I stopped my conquest and decided to have a family and protect the peace I'd created.
A cannonball is fired towards me killing my horse.
I fall to the muddy bloodstained ground and stand up.
Already a large portion of my men are dead and the ones who aren't have been halted by spears and swords and are fighting for their lives.
Groups of soldiers and monsters gather round me pointing whatever weapons they have towards me.
These poor men, all just weak commoners forced to fight for their lord.
"G-give it up, your surrounded! Surrender to us now!"
A timid looking boy holding a cross to his chest with his left hand pointed his spear at me as if its meant to provide some protection.
He looks barely older than Amon. He shouldn't be on this battlefield.
"I'll give you one chance to lay down your weapons. Your god isn't here to protect you, the only person here to pass judgement is me."
Sweat dripped down the enemies faces as their bodies shook. They've all seen my status, well the fake one at least.
None of them are surrendering.
"So be it."
I stamp my foot on the floor and create a shockwave that tears through them, killing some but for the most part only stunning the rest.
I begin my long walk towards the hill Tristan has placed himself on, overlooking the battlefield.
I see a quick flash moving towards me and bring my sword up just in time to block it.
"You're a fast one."
Some kid stands there opposite me.
"Fam, I'm gonna chef you up, blud."
Why is he wearing a big puffy jacket and hiding his face behind a mask instead of wearing some armour? He does know this is a battlefield right?
On top of that why is he speaking so wierd? What does he mean?
"Don't lie, Declan, we all know you're a harmless wannabe roadman."
A larger group appeared behind him with a multitude of weapons and magic aimed at me.
The one leading them appeared to be John from the tournament a few weeks ago.
I might have to fight these guys seriously. All of them have levels in the triple digits and stats in the quintuple digits.
"Arthur Brittania for your crimes prepare to die!"
What crimes is he on about?
"And be a man and show us your status! Nobody as weak as you claim to be could have blocked that!"
I smile, they want to see my status.
"Sure, just don't go getting cold feet."
[Name: Arthur Britannia
Race: Human
Level: 480
Strength: 35,000
Speed: 40,000
Magic: 25,000
Dexterity: 35,000
Intelligence: 20,000
Luck: 1000
Skills: Appraisal, False Status, Heavy Weapon Mastery (X), Magic (X), Extreme Will (X)
Titles: King of Britannia, Conqueror, Dragon slayer]
The colour drains from their faces pretty quickly.
"Whats wrong? Don't want to fight anymore?"