Battle of Cir (7)

The Osterian inches closer, despite heavy bombard men they grow nearer, their lines relentless despite the ocean of musket fire and heavy bombardment.

They drowned in gunfire as Schneider's men retreat in quick order. The bullets whizzing by as they dash to the trench's exit shaft. Officers standing by, ready to seal the hole at a moment's notice.

Schneider gestures for every soldier as he ran, on his side, a man wounded, arm over his shoulders as he shouts. "Captain! How far are they!?"

The man peeks through as the Osterians jump over, bayonets aimed at their throats.

Schneider widens his eyes as the captain screams, blood spurting from his neck as he fell with a thud. His bayonet stabbed through the soldier's chest.

With their arrival, the retreat then turns bloody and chaotic. Schneider looks around in desperation as he raises saber. "First company! Hold them off!"

Said men rush to his side forming a defensive line. All of them slashing against the Osterian as they advance, pulling up injured and soldiers to their side.

In but a minute, Schneider felt his exhaustion, his eyes half lidded as he watch the blood and mud mix on the ground like a flood.

A soldier rushes him in desperation. Taking the chance of his exhaustion, a bayonet crackles against his shield. He scoffs as he slices the man in his neck, only for another to strike against him.

One atop the trench, a bayonet aimed at his throat. Schneider grabs his musket, then pulls him over his back before slams on the ground to be Schneider's men stab him through his chest

Schneider then steps to the side as another bayonet slices through. The man shouting profanities as the saber sputters against his shield, "Fuck off."

He grit his teeth in anger, kicking the soldier in his stomach, piercing his throat in a quick motion. The Osterian soldiers look back at him terrified, a fact he appreciates as most of his men retreat behind him.

"I knew I'd find you here." A voice then spoke atop his head. Schneider widens his eyes, his instinct screaming at him as he jumps back.

A saber buried deep within the dirt before powerful winds erupt around him. The soldiers around them fly back as the man chuckles, "Good instincts you have there."

Schneider just stood up, his shield shattered, his breathing heavy as his knees buckle under his weight, the world around him swimming as he raise his saber.

He whispers to his men, "Have all our men retreated?" He glances at them and back to Falk, who was smirking at him as magic gathers in his saber.

"Sir, they have, most of them at least." The soldier whispers back.

Schneider then nods, "Then we retreat on my-"

He ducks. A saber slicing above his head as winds push his men aside. Falk's men rushing through as Schneider staggers back, barely holding onto his strength.

The saber then slashes towards his throat, slamming against his saber, his hand up, its blade digging deep in his hand as he roars, his eyes alight. "Fuck off!"

Falk kicks him in his stomach, unfazed. "Don't bother."

He spits out a clot of blood a little smirk on his face, "Screw you! Beside, you'll be disappointed." he glances to the side, his men's retreating figures, apparent. "You're a little late."

Falk slashes down, "You're enough of a prize."

The saber rings across the air, its sheen bright as it greets Schneider, his eyes closed as he smirks against his impending death, only to hear a ring.

The saber the clangs, flying across the trench as a voice spoke up, "I think he was talking to me."

With his words, an indiscernible objects zoom across the trench, piercing the throat of Falk's men, pushing Falk back as it crashes against his shield. A small pebble floating before him.

"Get up!" Meyer shouts, his eye focused against them, the small bullet following his eye's every move as he shouts, "Get the fuck up!"

Schneider grabs unto him, "Shut up! I'm doing it!" He peek above the trench, "Another line of men are arriving. We better get the fuck out of here."

Falk's eyes turn alight, his men's dead expression angering him as he roars. "You're not getting away from me, you bastard!"

He dashes towards them, wind gathering at the edge of his sword before slashing his saber up wind exploding from his saber as a wall of earth appears before him. The trench collapsing around him.

"You bastard!"

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

Meyers drags in Schneider, "Dammit man! Walk!"

"Sorry! I'm so fucking tired! I can't even feel my legs." Schneider shouts, only to hear Meyer's men running to his side, carrying him in their arms as another bombardment lands.

"What took you guys this long? We probably could have held them back, too."

Meyer smirks as he collapses another trench. "Sorry, something held us back."

"Ah, fuck it you're here." Schneider's vision then dims, his head tilting to the side as he lose his consciousness, smoke erupting around them.

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

"How many men do they have left in reserve?" Damien asks, his eyes trained against the map before him as Forst stood beside him, standing at attention.

"Sir! They have fully committed fifteen thousand men. About five thousand are left in their reserves. The others are acting as mages." The soldier reports back.

"Good, good." He then takes the saber to his side. His cap over his head as the cape behind him flutters, "Col. Forst! Take command! Defend this hill at all costs!"

Forst nods, "Victory and Glory." The men around him saluting at his words.

Damien the exits the tent, the sight filled with smoke. "Hoffman! Ready your men! Follow the plan! This all hinges on your success!"

Hoffman nods, "Victory and Glory."

Hall then rides towards him, his eyes uneasy as he spoke. "General! the men are ready. Is this really wise? Are we really to charge in?"

"Of course not." Damien smirks as volleys upon volleys of fireball lands against the hill. A large dust cloud forming around it as ash rains down.