Chapter 9: The Battle Turns

(Marcus's PoV)

The dust hadn't settled from the collapse of the cliffs when the unexpected happened.

From the eastern edge of the battlefield, a new threat emerged. **A second wave of monsters**, larger and more ferocious than the first, poured into the valley. Their monstrous forms loomed against the skyline, claws gleaming, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent. These were no ordinary beasts—they were organized, led by an alpha, a creature far larger than anything Marcus had anticipated. 

For a moment, the Grand Duchy's army faltered. The soldiers who had been holding the defensive line glanced at each other nervously. They had expected this battle to be nearing its end, yet here it was, taking a turn for the worse. Even Commander Reinhardt, seasoned and unshakeable, grimaced as he realized the gravity of the situation.

Marcus's heart pounded in his chest. The weight of the moment bore down on him—his first real battle, lives hanging in the balance, and now a new threat that could wipe out everything he had planned. But he couldn't afford to panic. The memories of his modern life, the cold logic of strategy, kicked in. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. **There had to be a way**.

"Hold the line!" Marcus shouted, his voice cutting through the mounting fear. His grey eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in every detail, every possible weakness. The army's original plan was crumbling before him, but he could still use the terrain, still exploit the chaos. If he played his cards right, this battle wasn't lost yet.

---

The soldiers hesitated for only a moment before Marcus's command snapped them back to focus. They had begun to trust him, despite his youth and inexperience with Essentia. His clear vision and steady hand were enough to give them hope.

But this second wave—it was a problem. The monsters were larger, their movements coordinated in a way the first wave hadn't been. There was a leader among them, and Marcus knew that **eliminating that alpha** was the key to breaking their ranks.

He turned to Commander Reinhardt. "We need to change tactics."

Reinhardt nodded, waiting for Marcus to outline the plan. Despite the chaos, the commander had come to respect Marcus's quick thinking. "Tell me what you're thinking, Your Grace."

Marcus's mind raced, filtering through everything he knew. The alpha was the lynchpin of the second wave, but its position—further back, protected by the bulk of the horde—made it almost impossible to strike directly. He needed a diversion, something to draw the alpha out into the open. 

"The second wave is more organized," Marcus said, his voice low but steady. "They're protecting the alpha. If we can isolate it, the rest of the monsters will fall into disarray."

Reinhardt's brows furrowed. "But getting to the alpha is nearly impossible with the number of beasts in front of it."

"Not if we make them come to us," Marcus said, his mind already piecing together the plan. "We'll feign a retreat—pull our forces back, make it look like we're losing. The alpha will sense victory and come forward to finish us off. That's when we'll strike."

Reinhardt raised an eyebrow. "It's risky. The men could lose morale if they think we're retreating for real."

"They trust you," Marcus replied. "They'll follow your lead. And when the alpha exposes itself, we'll hit it with everything we've got."

---

Reinhardt gave a short nod. "We'll do it."

Marcus turned to the rest of the commanders, issuing orders with a calm authority that belied the storm of nerves inside him. **This had to work**. They didn't have the Essentia firepower to outlast the monsters in a straight fight, but Marcus didn't intend for this to be a prolonged battle. It was all about striking at the right moment.

"Fall back!" Reinhardt bellowed to the men, his voice carrying over the din of battle. "Pull back to the ridge! Make it look like we're retreating!"

The soldiers, though momentarily confused, followed the command. They began to pull back, their formation loosening as they retreated up the incline. Marcus watched carefully as the monsters advanced, their pace quickening, sensing an easy victory.

---

As Marcus had predicted, the alpha emerged from the horde, a massive beast with rippling black fur and glowing red eyes. It let out a deafening roar, urging its followers to press the attack. It was exactly what Marcus had been waiting for.

"Now!" Marcus shouted.

The signal was given, and the Elementalists unleashed their combined power. The ground beneath the monsters shifted, elemental Essentia rippling through the earth, creating pits and obstacles that slowed the beasts' advance. The monsters faltered, confused by the sudden change in terrain.

At the same time, Marcus's soldiers reformed their line at the top of the ridge, archers and spellcasters taking aim at the exposed alpha. They unleashed a volley of attacks, arrows and Essentia bolts raining down on the monster.

The alpha roared in fury, swiping at the incoming barrage, but the combined force of the attacks weakened it. It staggered, its movements growing sluggish as the Essentia strikes hit their mark.

"Focus on the alpha!" Marcus commanded, his voice clear and precise. "Bring it down!"

Reinhardt, standing beside him, watched in amazement as Marcus's plan unfolded perfectly. The alpha, now fully exposed, was vulnerable. The soldiers, seeing the tide of the battle shift in their favor, fought with renewed vigor.

"Archers, fire again!" Marcus called. Another volley of arrows flew, this time striking the alpha directly in the chest. The beast howled in pain, stumbling forward. It was wounded, but not dead yet.

Marcus's gaze narrowed. "We need to finish it."

Reinhardt stepped forward. "Leave it to me."

With a battle cry, the commander charged down the slope, his axe glowing with Essentia as he powered through the smaller monsters that tried to stop him. The alpha saw him coming, its bloodied eyes narrowing in challenge. But Reinhardt was faster, stronger. With a mighty swing, he brought his axe down on the alpha's neck, severing its head in a single, brutal strike.

---

The battlefield fell silent for a moment as the alpha's massive body crumpled to the ground. Then, chaos erupted among the monsters. Without their leader, they began to scatter, disoriented and leaderless. The soldiers, emboldened by their victory, pressed forward, cutting down the remaining beasts with swift efficiency.

Marcus stood at the top of the ridge, his chest heaving with adrenaline. **They had done it**. Against all odds, they had won.

Reinhardt climbed back up the hill, his armor splattered with blood but his eyes shining with pride. "Your plan worked, Your Grace," he said, clapping Marcus on the shoulder. "You turned the tide."

Marcus nodded, but inside, he felt a deep exhaustion settle over him. It had been close—too close. He had gambled everything on this strategy, and while it had paid off, the cost had been high. The soldiers were tired, many of them wounded, but alive.

"We won," Marcus said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Reinhardt smiled. "We won because of you, Marcus."

As the men began to regroup, Marcus allowed himself a brief moment of relief. **The Grand Duchy had survived another day**, but the road ahead was long. There would be more battles, more enemies—human and otherwise.

But today, they had won. And that was enough.

For now.