Chapter 33: The Eastern Front – Part 2

Chapter 33: The Eastern Front – Part 2

 The battlefield was a nightmare of blood and fire.The once-proud Eastern Capital of the Empire's blacksmith province had been reduced to a burning wasteland. What was once the backbone of the Empire's weapon production now lay in ruin, its streets filled with the corpses of soldiers and civilians alike.

Duke Swan Ya Zar stood on the steps of the central keep, his breath ragged, his armor cracked and covered in enemy blood. His men had fought valiantly, but the numbers were overwhelming.

He had made peace with his fate.

He would die standing, not kneeling.

But then—

The war horn of the Imperial reinforcements shook the heavens.

A roar of thunder followed—not from the sky, but from the hooves of warhorses charging in unison.

At the vanguard, General Thamain Zeya, his crimson cloak snapping in the wind, led 15,000 Imperial warriors into the fray.

"FOR THE EMPIRE! CHARGE!"

The ground trembled beneath the weight of the Imperial cavalry's charge, a hurricane of steel and fury crashing against the flanks of the 300,000-strong Eastern Alliance.

The counteroffensive had begun.

As the Imperial cavalry smashed into the enemy ranks, chaos erupted.

The Eastern Alliance, despite vastly outnumbering the Imperials, was caught completely off guard.

Their commanders had assumed that no reinforcements would come.

That the Empire had abandoned Swan Ya Zar.

They were wrong.

Thamain Zeya's blade carved through the first enemy he met, severing a horseman from his saddle with a single, clean stroke. The momentum of the charge sent bodies flying, Imperial knights trampling enemy warriors underfoot.

From the northern gates, Imperial foot soldiers poured in, blades flashing, cutting down stunned invaders who had thought the battle was already won.

Swan Ya Zar saw his chance.

"WE ARE IMPERIAL SOLDIERS. WE WILL DIE WITH HONOR PROTECTING THE EMPRIRE. WE FIGHT BACK UNTIL NO MEN LEFT! NO RETREAT! DRIVE THEM INTO THE EARTH! OUR NAMES SHALL BE WRITTEN IN THE BOOK OF HISTORY!" 

With this, His remaining 5,000 warriors let out war cry that even enemies were afraid and warriors surged forward, rallying behind him. The streets turned into a brutal melee, where blood and fire mixed in equal measure.

Thamain Zeya and Swan Ya Zar fought side by side, the two greatest warriors of the Eastern Province cutting through enemy ranks like unstoppable titans.

In the shadows, a final strike was prepared. 

The elite battalion of assassins, trained in the Sultanate of Qashir, had one final mission:

Kill Duke Swan Ya Zar. 

A hundred of them, still hidden in the ruins, waited for their moment.

Their leader, a masked warrior known as Al'Razar, moved through the wreckage like a ghost.

He saw his target.

Swan Ya Zar, covered in blood, his sword cleaving through enemies.

Now was the moment. As the reinforcements arrived before they entered the city they have to finish their jobs first even if its cost their lives. Then

Al'Razar signaled his assassins.

And they struck from the shadows.

But before their blades could land—

A single figure intercepted them.

Thamain Zeya.

"Nice try."

The battlefield erupted into a second storm as Thamain engaged the entire battalion of assassins at once.

Steel flashed, blood sprayed, and death filled the air.

Thamain and moved like a tempest, his sword severing limbs, cutting throats, breaking bodies.

Within minutes, the assassins were annihilated.

Al'Razar staggered back, his blade trembling in his hands.

"How… can one man…"

Thamain lunged forward.

The assassin never finished his sentence.

One clean stroke—and his head rolled across the bloodstained ground.

With the assassins eliminated, Thamain turn into the battlefield.

POV: General Orlan de Firais – The Enemy's Last Stand

General Orlan de Firais of the Duchy of Ilsar had spent a lifetime preparing for war against the Pagan Empire.

He had led 600,00 troops for the siege of the city into battle with the confidence of an executioner. This was supposed to be easy, very easy. We outnumbered them and we even breached their gates at the cost of 10000 soldiers.

And now—

He was watching his army crumble.

His forces, once an unbreakable wave, were being driven back by a mere 15,000 Imperials.

Impossible.

He gritted his teeth, raising his gleaming silver sword.

"HOLD THE LINES! REGROUP AND STRIKE BACK!" he bellowed. "KILL THE IMPERIAL COMMANDERS! CUT OFF THE HEAD AND THE BODY WILL FALL!"

His officers scrambled to rally their troops, but panic had already spread.

Then, a shadow moved in the firelight.

Orlan barely had time to turn his head before a black-clad warrior was upon him.

POV: General Thamain Zeya vs. General Orlan de Firais

Thamain moved like a phantom, weaving between enemy warriors with deadly precision.

After saving the Duke from assassination attempt and then, he saw his target, at the centre of the enemy lines.

Orlan de Firais—the commander of the enemy army.

Thamain's golden eyes burned with cold determination.

He charged.

Orlan reacted just in time, bringing up his silver greatsword to block the first strike.

CLANG!

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air, knocking back nearby soldiers. Sparks flew as the two generals clashed, their swords meeting in a storm of steel.

Orlan gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he pushed against Thamain's overwhelming strength.

"Damn you, Empire dog!" he spat.

Thamain smirked.

"You should have brought more men."

With a single motion, he twisted his blade, breaking Orlan's guard.

Orlan's eyes widened in horror.

Thamain stepped in and drove his sword through the enemy general's chest.

Orlan gasped, blood spilling from his lips as he staggered backward.

His vision blurred.

His army—his dream of breaking the Empire—was shattering before his eyes.

Thamain yanked his sword free, letting Orlan crumple to the ground in a pool of blood.

The Eastern Alliance forces saw their commander fall.

And in that moment—

Their entire army began to break.

Panic spread like wildfire.

Soldiers began to flee, throwing down their weapons, rushing to escape the slaughter.

The Imperials pressed forward, cutting them down mercilessly.

POV: Duke Swan Ya Zar – Aftermath and the RetreatThe Imperial forces had won the battle.

But the war was far from over.

Swan Ya Zar stood amidst the ruins, his body aching from the endless battle.

Thamain Zeya approached him, wiping blood from his blade.

"We did it, old man."

The Duke exhaled.

"Yes… but we cannot stay."

The city was lost.

Even though they had won, the remaining Eastern Alliance forces still outnumbered them.

And reinforcements were already on their way.

"We pull back," Thamain said. "Use the mountains. Hit them where it hurts."

Swan Ya Zar turned to his remaining men.

"Evacuate the civilians. Burn what we cannot carry. We leave nothing behind."

The order was grim, but necessary.

The Imperial forces withdrew, vanishing into the shadowed mountains.

By the time the Eastern Alliance returned, they found nothing but empty ruins.

But even as they occupied the city—

They had no idea of the nightmare that awaited them in the mountains.

(Continue....)