Desperation and deliverance

You scramble to your feet, giving Alex a smile and a nod. The solar elemental winks at you, though she’s clearly drained from the effort. She retreats towards the palisade, leaving the battle to gather her strength. You look around to assess the situation. There’s a pocket of calm around you, with Ferra an army unto herself as usual, and the heavy blows of Sarah’s Forgebreaker forcing the enemy back. However, the **** of their leader doesn’t seem to have disheartened the enemy ****, and their superior quality is taking a toll.

The ends of the line in particular are heavily pressed, and are slowly being pushed back. You spot Grant, commanding from near the front, trying to salvage the situation. A blow has creased his helmet, and he has blood on his face, but he seems to be doing well otherwise. He catches your eye, and moves through the lines to you.

Shouting to be heard over the clamor, he details the situation. “They’re stronger than we thought! I don’t think we can hold them here unless something changes!”

You scan the battlefield, shaking your head. “Can we retreat behind our fortifications?”

Grant shakes his head. “Not easily. A fighting retreat would be costly, we’re too hard pressed on the flanks. And worse, look.”

He points to the north, beyond the battle. You look that way, and see the telltale dust cloud of an approaching ****, moving quickly. Grant looks at you and shrugs.

“Unless you’ve got a secret backup army out there, I’d say that’s enemy reinforcements. Cavalry, by the speed of them. We can’t hold against a charge like that.”

You think for a moment. “I’m no expert. What are our options?”

He glances at Ferra and Sarah, now fighting side by side. “We’re pressed on the flanks, but our center is strong. Our best bet is to split them apart. If you can punch through the middle, we could **** one side to back off or be surrounded. But that leaves our other flank **** to the approaching attack.”

You nod. “We’ll try it. We’ll try to roll up the left wing. What can we do for the right?”

He shakes his head. “Hope they hold until we finish the left. I’ll handle that, you get to work.”

He extends a hand, and you shake. With a nod, he turns towards the beleaguered right flank, heading off at a jog. You watch him go, then run to join Sarah and Ferra. Taking the lead, you plunge into the fight, the girls following as you hack at the enemy. They’re tough fighters, and even augmented by Lilith and wielding Caliburn, it takes effort to take down these hooded, armored warriors. The grim silence in which they fight is odd, not even crying out when they’re cut down.

Still, you’re able to push through and drive them back, and soon the three of you break through the line. The rear ranks wheel to face you, and you can sense the pressure on your forces easing slightly as the enemy is **** to defend the rear. You spare a glance to the north, and you can see that the rest of the battle isn’t going as well, as the enemy presses harder against your abandoned right flank. Grant shouts orders, spreading his line dangerously thin to avoid being encircled himself.

Now it’s down to wether you can finish off this segment of the enemy before Grant’s **** collapses. You draw more power from Lilith, pressing the attack. Beside you, the girls match your efforts, and the example seems to inspire your troops, though you can see them beginning to tire. Another glance shows a grim tale. The dust clouds are clearing, and you see a line of cavalry racing towards the battle, the thunder of hooves growing louder.

You see you have no chance to finish this before they arrive. But you notice something. The horsemen are not wearing the colors of the capital. This **** is from elsewhere. As they close the distance, you hear the roars of their battle cries over the hoof beats. At the lead, armored in gleaming plate, is a helmed warrior brandishing a saber. Their long red hair flows from under their closed helm like a banner, and they wave the saber as the cavalry charges.

Straight into the exposed rear of the enemy formation.

The carnage is incredible. Bodies fly from the impact of the charge, and you see blades ruse and fall, scything through the ranks easily. All cohesion is lost, and the battle on that side degenerates into a swirling melee. Meanwhile, you turn back to your own battle, which has turned into a rout. The enemy, seemingly so unbreakable before, retreats from the press, their attacks faltering. Your **** cuts them down without mercy, the rout becoming a slaughter.

Soon, the remaining few enemy flee, and you call a halt, letting them run. Turning to the other side, you see a similar scene. As the remnants of the enemy **** scatter, you see the leader of the cavalry **** sheathing their saber, and pulling off their helmet. It’s a woman, and a surprisingly young looking one. She shakes out her crimson hair and hood down from her horse, approaching Grant and shaking his hand. She speaks to him for a moment, and Grant shakes his head, and points at you. The woman nods, turning and walking purposefully towards you, a friendly smile on her face. She holds out a hand to shake in greeting.