Battle of Cir (5)

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

"VICTORY AND GLORY!" The men around him respond. They raise their muskets as the Osterian infantry thunders towards them.

"Prepare for combat!" Schneider shouts, unsheathing the saber at his hip. Magic coursing through his veins only to hear, "Sir! Barrage incoming!"

He widens his eyes; he turns to the sky to see it dotted with fire. This wasn't supposed to happen. He glances at the charge and he grins, ducking back into the trench. "Ready yourselves!"

The barrage then makes contact, striking the ground into oblivion. Strays fireballs hitting against the charging men, their screams loud and guttural as they charge through the smoke.

"All men, raise your bayonets!" The men raise their muskets and narrow their eyes. The ground shaking as the Osterian soldiers run unto the trench. "FIRE!"

With his shouts, the trenches explode like thunder. Thousands of bullets strike against the line, decimating their forces as they charge, yet hundreds still arrive.

"Kill them all!" An Osterian officer shouts, his arm raised, his fingers alight in magic as he charges Schneider down, with his saber, raised, jumping unto the trench as hundreds follow.

"Fuck off!" Schneider shouts. He jumps back to gain distance, clenching his hand as magic gathered in his saber, slashing down with enough strength to push the man back, fire erupting from his saber.

The officer grits his teeth as the Osterian men burned, his eyes alight as he dashes at his side, wind forming at the edge of his sword before he strikes.

Schneider ducks and raises his saber up, his grin wide as he slams it down with all his strength, the fire burning his shield as it shatters by his blade, the men behind him burning with their screams stuck on their throats.

The officer hears it all, his eyes burning in anger as he charges him once more. His saber raised his eyes alight and shields down as he slashes back.

Schneider widens his eyes as he raises his saber in front of him, torrential winds striking against his shield, his feet dragging through the ground as he grits his teeth.

"Fuck off!" He shouts, slashing the magic back. The surrounding winds dispersing.

The Osterian officer glares, his breathing heavy as more men rushes to his side. A hole opening up the trench, as hundreds kill their way through, their muskets aimed.

And a cacophony of fire erupts as tens of men, fire against him.

Schneider staggers back, his mind a whirlwind of thought as he comes up with a plan. His eyes widen as magic gathers on his saber, bullets striking against his shield.

With such a situation, he glances behind him to see his men desperately holding onto their lines, the torrential horde of Osterians keeping them occupied.

He grits his teeth. The line would collapse if they pushed any further than this. He takes another deep breath, magic crushing unto his body as bullets strikes against his shield.

He then grips his saber, he lowers his body, then explodes into a dash. His saber light as he slashes upwards, drowning the officer in fire as his men desperately shoot.

The officer roars as both fire and saber crackles against his shield, his exhaustion catching up to him as a hundred more Osterian floods behind him.

Schneider then roars, "BURN!" His eyes turn alight as his skin reddens. The Osterian officer widens his eyes as a powerful explosion rips through, his shield shattering like glass as he flew back.

The men around him screaming in agony as they burn.

The Osterian officer crawls back, his eyes looking behind him to see his men dead or dying, his eyes turn alight, only to be kicked in his chest. His concentration broken as Schneider walks to his side.

Stabbing him in his throat as he spoke. "That's one charge down."

He looks above the trench to see Osterian soldiers marching in large columns, intent on flooding down the trench. "Hundreds more to go."

With such words, tens of soldiers rush to fill the hole.

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

Drissian Right Flank, Hillside.

"Sir! The first line repelled the enemy advance!" A soldier lowers his spyglass as explosions erupt around him. His eyes surveying the field as Damien nods in response.

His eyes surveying the map as hundreds more reports come. "Good, good. How is the condition of our line? Will they be able to hold?"

"Not good. They seemingly took a huge amount of losses. A part of the trench seems to have been opened up and hundreds flooded in." The soldiers spoke, his spyglass up his eyes as the hill shakes.

Frost nods, his eyes surveying the map. "The line will not hold, declare a retreat." He then glances to Lt. Col. Hoffman, "Have the mages."

A powerful explosion then erupts. The hill shakes at the strength as the soldier shouts. "Sir! The Osterians have been decimated! Hundreds of our soldiers flood back in to mend the lines."

Damien's mouth curl up, his eyes fleeting across the map. "I see. Send in colonel Meyers. Have his men supply the necessary troops."

The hill then shakes as another barrage strikes against the hill. As a man enters with a flourish, "Sir! Col. Hall of the first light cavalry, reporting for duty!"

Damien glances at the man. "Good, have your men at the ready!" A malicious grin flashes across his face. "We'll sortie out once the right time arrives."

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

"What are they doing!?" General Keller growls as he lowers down his spyglass. With five thousand of his men dead, it was only a matter of time for them to pierce through the first defensive line.

The ground then shakes, smoke rising from the ground. He raises the spyglass to his eye as he growls, "What happened!?"

He grimaces at the sight as he shouts, "Tell the fifteenth regiment to advance!"

He turns to the man beside him. "Tell Scholz that if he makes that mistake again, he'll be sent to prison for incompetence! And make them ready another barrage at my command"

His eyes turn to atop the hill. "Their mages remain dormant. Then who the fuck would have enough magic to burn those down?"

"I know who did that." A man spoke beside him.

He then turns to him, Falk riding to his side as he spoke. "Then get your men ready. You'll be going with the fifteenth regiment."