Battle of Cir (4)

Osterian Left Flank February 1731 City of Cir, Province of Ciresia, Osterian Empire.

Keller sighs as the men before him take their position. His eyes locked onto the trenches as mages marches through the tree line.

A man then rides up to him, "Sir! Lt. Col. Scholz at your service."

Keller gives him a small nod. "Have your men stationed within Reelz Village."

"But sir, isn't that two kilometers from the hill? Sir, we cannot possibly do much damage if we fire from there. A normal fireball only has a kilometer range."

Keller nods in acknowledgement. "I don't expect normal fireballs, with three thousand mages under your command, situated deep within our defenses. I expect you to do much more. Is that clear?"

Scholz nods, his eyes shifting to him and his men. "I understand, sir."

"Good! Start your bombardment at my command."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Drissian Right Flank

Schneider marches through the trenches, his men at the ready, their muskets aimed as the smell of dirt and gunpowder enters the senses.

He clenches his fist tight. The soft rumbling of a thousand footsteps make him stop.

The Battle of Cir has begun.

With such a thought, the men ready, he ducks out of the vision as he and his men watch Osterian marching in the thousands, in vast numbers, in grand lines, each step a little closer to battle.

A heavy feeling encompasses the trenches, the sight of the enemy having them falter. He looks to his men, only to see their faces bearing a grim expression as they aim their muskets.

Their eyes filled with uncertainty as the man beside him, whisper, "They're so many."

Schneider gathers magic at his throat, roaring to his men, "Victory and Glory!"

"Victory and Glory!"

The immediate reply left him satisfied, before a man shout behind his ears. "Sir! Incoming!"

He looks up at the sky, to see a daunting sight, the blue sky and the white clouds dotted with red rain, the heat of which of was so hot, the men can't help but tremble.

He hardens his eyes before shouting, "Brace Yourselves!"

He and everyone around him lowered their heads beneath the dirt. He tries to shout one more command, only to be interrupted by the deafening roar of a thousand soldiers.

Everyone held their ears, their minds abuzz as dirt showered over them, the heat almost scalding as air pushed them over onto the dirt beneath, sticking like mud.

Half a minute passed for what seemed a like eternity as Schneider grits his teeth, his mind abuzz and his ear ringing while helplessly listening to the screams of his men.

A shout washes over him, a captain. "Sir! Enemy Infantry four hundred meters!"

He widens his eyes as he clenches his fist, willing himself to roar at his men, "Men! Aim!"

He looked down beside him as trained soldiers struggle up to gather their wits, their mind shocked as the muskets in their hand tremble. He helped the man up, shoving the musket in his hand.

"Fire!"

He points to the enemy as the entire hill turn alight with musket fire, ripping through the enemy ranks in a synchronous, dyeing the white uniform in blood.

The enemy remains unfazed, marching through the screaming men and dying comrades.

Schneider then shouts, "Reload!"

The mad scramble for musket balls led the men into a disorganized mess, before another shout tears through the chaos, "Three hundred meters!"

With such a shout, a bullet tears through the man beside him, blood splattering over his face as the man screams, holding a hole over his shoulder. The cacophony of bullet pinging against the ground.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

The man nods, gritting his teeth as he clenches his fist over his wound, blood spilling over his arm.

Schneider's eye harden before, "Take cover!" He roars, taking the musket of off the man's hand as another arrives to patch him up.

"All men! Fire!"

He fires, the explosion from his musket covering his vision with smoke. The men around him doing the same.

Immediately after, another volley then strikes against his shield, his men taking cover beside him.

Another volley then erupts above their position, stalling their march for a few more seconds, before another retaliatory fire makes him duck for cover.

He looks to the wounded soldier, blood pouring from his wound as he struggles through his uniform, handing Schneider his pouch of gunpowder and musket balls with a smile.

"Sir, have these."

Schneider nods to him, before turning his back, pouring the gunpowder back to the musket, splashing it all over his hand, shoving the ball in right after.

He fires, only to hear a soft thud ring through his ears. He looks back to see the man letting go of his bandaged wound as he closed his eyes with a smile frozen in his expression.

Schneider tries to shout for help, only for another shout to erupt behind him. "Sir! Incoming!"

He looks up to see thousands of fireballs once more headed in their direction, intent on softening them up for the charge.

"Take Cover!" He roars, magic shimmering around him as he ducks for cover.

A thousand more explosion erupts right after, gouging the surrounding earth, leaving craters of dirt that once more washes over them, sticking to their skin, and turning their uniform brown.

Schneider shakes it all off, ducking beside the man, propping him up beside him only for an explosion to blow off their position, propelling him far, his back, hitting the dirt as his ears ring.

He tries to stand, his ears ringing, blood pooling over his eyes as his knees buckle. The musket in his hand propping him up.

He tries push through the blood and tears as he sought out for the soldier beside him, only to see him, nothing but a pool of blood and burnt clothing, the smell of blood and fire, urging him to gag.

He lowers his head in loss, angered at the man's death only to be reminded by a shout behind him, "Sir! Enemy infantry! fifty meters!"

Schneider's eyes illuminate as he points the musket in his hand, roaring at the men.

"VICTORY AND GLORY!"