When the walls fall

Dust devils twirled over the dry flatlands, causing Andre's cloak to dance wildly as he rode. Carrying the revenant on his back, he cast a threatening shadow over the sand stained with blood. The 10th Legion, his group of survivors, trailed closely, leaving a path of destruction as they moved forward.

Days melded together, the horizon slowly unveiling an awe-inspiring view – Constantis, a gem nestled among the lush hug of rolling hills. Andre had never seen a city like this before, it was like a Byzantine wonder with tall walls sparkling in the sunlight.

Out of nowhere, Andre noticed a quick movement on a faraway hill. He narrowed his eyes, feeling a spark of hope starting in his heart. A banner, displaying a red phoenix, fluttered in the breeze – the symbol of the 10th Legion.

As they neared the mound, Andre's heart beat a comforting, familiar rhythm within his chest. Perched on the hill was Corvus, the lean and battle-worn commander of the 10th. Next to him, Andre recognized Marcus with his bright blonde hair shimmering in the sun, and Res with hair as blue as a mermaid's dream, holding a shiny blade. Andre's face broke into a relieved smile. They were not alone.

Corvus, a seasoned warrior with a sardonic glint in his eyes, boomed a laugh. "Andre! You magnificent bastard, you made it!" He thumped Andre on the back with surprising strength, nearly sending him sprawling.

Andre dismounted with a groan, the aches in his body a dull throb. He clapped Corvus on the back, the force nearly knocking the larger man off balance. "Easy there, you ox. Thought you lot left without us."

"Not a chance, brother. We wouldn't dream of it. Though, judging by the looks of you, that last fight was a real barn burner."

Andre grimaced. "Crusaders. Nasty bunch. Lost a few good men."

Res stepped forward, her blue eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright? You look…" she trailed off, searching his face. He missed her beautiful face.

He forced a smile. "Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing Revenant can't handle later." He gestured towards the men behind him, who were wearily dismounting. "But hey, speaking of handling things, you wouldn't believe the surprise I got for that stuck-up Vor'talon of Supremacy in Constantis."

Corvus's grin widened. "Surprise, eh? Do tell."

Andre winked. "Let's just say, their days of throwing their weight around are over." He gestured towards a group of men unloading crates from several large wagons that had followed his men. "Meet our little… persuasion devices."

Andre looked puzzled. Looking in the direction Corvus was looking, he witnessed something that caused his eyes to widen. A group of men, were carefully moving a line of big, shiny metal tubes. Artillery pieces in Decaoria. This was crazy.

"Cannons?" Andre breathed, disbelief lacing his voice. These weren't the clunky, unreliable contraptions that Andre saw back on Earth. These were the real deal, capable of decimating walls with frightening ease.

Andre's face lit up with a gradual smile. This city, this impenetrable stronghold, could potentially withstand an army's attack, but how would it fare against cannons?

Andre fell behind the group, feeling the hollow emptiness in his chest matched by the steady sound of hooves pounding rhythmically. He longed for the friendship he had with Marcus and Res, which was very different from the tough and effective leadership he showed his men.

Joining them, he walked in stride with them, enjoying a comfortable quietness that settled among the group. At last, he talked, his voice hoarse. "Missed you guys."

Marcus, always practical, just grunted in approval, his eyes focused on the horizon. Res gently nudged him with her elbow, a slight smile appearing on her lips.

"Took you long enough to admit it, Blackheart."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Andre's face. "Blackheart, huh? Sounds like something a bard would make up." He hesitated, then blurted, "How's… how's everyone back home?"

Res's smile softened. "They're holding up. Anya's worried sick, of course, but she's keeping a brave face. Kael… well, Kael's Kael. Still hates you leaving, but he pretends not to care."

Andre snorted. "Right, because Kael's a picture of emotional vulnerability."

They lapsed into silence again, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging heavy between them. Then, Marcus, ever observant, flicked his gaze towards Andre's back. "New blade?"

Andre instinctively reached back, his fingers brushing the familiar hilt of Revenant. "Yeah. Voidbane… well, let's just say it met a less than glorious end."

Res, her eyes wide with curiosity, leaned closer. "Whose sword is it?"

Andre unstrapped the massive blade, the afternoon sun glinting off its dark surface. He held it out, the weight a familiar comfort in his hand. "Mine. Had a blacksmith down south whip it up. Needed something a little… sturdier."

.....

Evening crept across the sky, turning the clouds a deep purple color. Andre's cloak fluttered in the unruly wind, pulling at Revenant's straps on his back. He was with his dearest friends, Marcus and Res, at the top of the hill with a view of Constantis.

The city below stretched out like a slumbering creature, its walls that were once shining now covered in darkness.

A group of men grunted while pushing the huge cannons into place, following behind them. Andre observed, feeling a dark contentment in his stomach.

Corvus, his face etched with a warrior's focus, strode up beside him. "Ready, Blackheart?"

Andre met his gaze, a steely glint in his own eye. "Ready as I'll ever be."He said smiling at the new nickname.

A low whistle pierced the air, the prearranged signal. Below, a torch flared, casting an eerie orange glow on the faces of the cannoneers. With grim efficiency, they readied their charges. A collective breath held.

Next, a loud roar broke the evening silence. One of the cannons spewed out a burst of fire, which was then accompanied by a loud boom reverberating through the plains. A cloud of smoke rose into the sky when the cannonball hit the city wall, creating a large hole in the solid stone.

The cannons that were left fired with a mixture of noise and anger. Constantis was engulfed in disorder. Cries and yells erupted amidst the chaos while the bombardment demolished parts of the city wall, reducing them to dust.

However, their joy didn't last long. A huge form appeared from the haze and debris. A knight, standing at least seven feet tall, dressed in shining armor that was a dark, almost black, shade of blue. Spikes, sharp and brutal, jutted out from his shoulders and shin guards. He held a warhammer as large as a tree branch in one hand, its head shining with a menacing red glow. On the other one, there is a large shield decorated with a demonic symbol. This was the Vor'talon of Supremacy.

Behind him, a wave of individuals streamed out of the gates of the city. Some wore armor, their faces contorted in expressions of animosity. Others, their eyes unfocused and empty, shuffled with the jerky movement of zombies. It was a horrifying army, evidence of the sinister force now controlling Constantis.

Corvus roared a challenge, his voice tinged with a hint of fear. "For the Empire! For freedom!" His men, their initial shock fading, took up the cry, a ragged chorus that rose to meet the enemy's bloodcurdling war chant.

Andre drew Revenant, the heft a recognizable reassurance in his grip. He made eye contact with Marcus and Res, noticing a hint of dark humor in their glances.

"Looks like our little persuasion devices might need some… backing up."

With a guttural war cry of his own, Andre charged down the hill, his companions and the rest of the 10th Legion at his heels. They were outnumbered, outmatched, but they were Andre's men, and they were about to face hell head-on.