The journey has been challenging, and now I find myself at the main base, located in Irlam. Although I could be in my office finalizing paperwork, I have chosen to stand before the imposing balloon.
Crusch and I share the desire to engage in battle before pursuing Erick. We could devastate many enemies and even infiltrate their base. However, we are aware that we cannot afford to waste mana unnecessarily, as uncertainty about who is protecting Erick continues to overshadow the future.
In anticipation of a high number of casualties, we have established camps on the outskirts, as well as a central camp. The few healers and practitioners are ready, dressed in gowns, gloves, and masks. Our goal is to preserve health under these conditions as best as possible.
We have embarked on a unique endeavor by developing magic-infused alcohol.
Spells can be imbued into physical objects, a concept that forms the basis of the "metia." However, producing materials in specific quantities has proven to be a formidable challenge.
Since the discovery in one of Roswaal's books about the continuation of metia creation, we have been consistently producing alcohol.
We have conducted experiments with animals and people, and it seems suitable for use. However, pure alcohol is something we have kept secret, away from the world.
In hopes of increasing production efficiency, I installed distilleries, and the test results confirmed that magic-brewed alcohol is undeniably more potent than fruit-distilled.
However, carrying out production on an industrial scale will require the implementation of magic circuits, or more precisely, the incipient concept I am developing of them.
Also, there is a project that I want to propose to an acquaintance.
The air is tense as we continue with our preparations for the imminent confrontation. Uncertainty is a constant companion at this critical time.
The balloon is ready, and the bombs are loaded into the hull. The tension in my heart is eased by the thirst for victory; at this moment, everyone's life depends on our skill.
I do not feel fear, only the determination to fight.
"Emilia must be nervous," I comment, as I observe Beatrice, whose expression reflects her unease.
Enjoying this moment is an impossible task; as ambitious as it may be, I do not want to see my soldiers perish. Although the plan is designed to minimize casualties, reality is relentless.
Everyone must go through this hell if they want to see the light of day over Irlam.
Sometimes I wonder if life would be simpler if I were the protagonist of the story, living carefree until problems arise. But I understand that my responsibility is incomparable.
I am strong, backed by an extraordinary team that has placed their trust in me. That trust weighs on my shoulders, but it is also the fuel I need to keep going.
If I wish to be stronger, if I want to protect those I love and make Irlam a great place, I must face this challenge.
"She's not the same girl I met when I first saw her, indeed; you have had a great influence on her development, I suppose," Beatrice smiles, and together we watch as the sky begins to brighten.
Yes, we all change over time, influenced by those around us. It's a natural part of life, people adopt attitudes and behaviors from others, sometimes without even realizing it.
I have experienced changes, as has Emilia. Our influence extends to the lives of those around us, and it is our responsibility to be strong and use that influence for the best.
As ruler of Irlam, I must live up to expectations if I want to see smiles on all my inhabitants.
The sun begins to rise on the horizon, casting its light upon us as we prepare for the war about to unfold.
I open the magical communication device to establish contact with the base where the battle will take place.
Military bases are not particularly large, but they are built with magic-reinforced concrete to withstand projectiles and magical attacks. Numerous resources have been allocated for this war, and everything is ready for the confrontation.
Luan, with her hair slightly illuminated in a beautiful crimson tone, greets me with a military gesture.
"General Marco," she says in a serious and determined tone, her gaze fixed on me indicating that she is not succumbing to nerves. "The Costuul soldiers have not been sighted yet, but the war is about to begin, as was made clear."
I am about to respond when a shout breaks into the scene.
"Sighting!" exclaims a soldier, and all presents turn their gaze in another direction, their hearts beating strongly in anticipation of the imminent conflict.
The general watches me with an expression heavy with concern, his furrowed brows and tense lips revealing the seriousness of the moment.
But I can't dwell on his worried gestures. I must find strength within myself, push forward. Every decision I make now will determine the fate of lives depending on my choices.
I feel my hands trembling, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I try to maintain composure. I try to raise my voice, but the words seem trapped in my throat, as if afraid to emerge and confront the chaos surrounding us.
Even though I passed all the tests and became someone capable of leading, right now, I feel like a failure.
But who decides if I am a failure or not?
No one but myself.
In a surge of frustration, I clench my fist tightly, feeling the nails dig into the palm of my hand. A flash of fire erupts from my hair, reflecting my agitated emotional state, as shots toward the enemies become increasingly frequent.
It's time to put into practice what the general taught me.
I infuse mana into my throat, feeling the characteristic tingle of magic as it accumulates in my voice. When I finally speak, my tone resonates with authority and determination:
—SOLDIERS! Prepare the mortars!
My words reverberate in the air, charged with the energy I channel through magic.
I watch as the soldiers spring into action, moving with precision and efficiency under my command. Every gesture is calculated, every movement a piece in the complex puzzle of war.
The mortars, meticulously designed by the general, gleam in the light of the flames dancing around them. Though their outward appearance is simple, I know their operation is complex and lethal.
Initially, I doubted their effectiveness, but seeing them in action, their potential becomes evident.
As the soldiers prepare, my gaze turns to the horizon, where the sky darkens with the smoke of battle.
A knot forms in my stomach, but I ignore it, focusing on the duty before me. Despite the uncertainty and fear threatening to overwhelm me, I must lead my people to victory, no matter the consequences.
We face a formidable battalion, though we know we are not equal compared to the demihumans.
However, we have a significant advantage: our weaponry is superior, with greater destructive power thanks to the brilliant ideas of the general.
They only have the magic cannons, in addition to their own mages.
All the soldiers are lying in their trenches, while the imposing walls of reinforced concrete rise around us, erected specifically for this battle. While they may not be the sturdiest structures, we trust they will provide protection during a crucial time.
The battlefield stretches before us, a vast plain covered in withered grass from the constant passage of troops and the roar of war. In the distance, the formidable mountains that delimit our territory loom on the horizon.
The air is thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the deafening sound of magical balls launched toward us.
Our strategy is clear: disrupt the initial ranks of the enemy army. I take my binoculars and direct them forward, only to meet with the sight of a demihuman army advancing at full speed.
The first line is composed of beings of immense size, wielding giant shields, and advancing with ferocity, in an attempt to counter our shots. But we are prepared to challenge that obstacle.
They are now mere five hundred meters away from us. The artillery prepares for action, and a smile forms on my face as I contemplate the efficiency with which they move.
However, around me, I perceive worried faces, serious expressions reflecting the tension of the moment. It's evident that all the rigorous training we've undergone is being put to the test here and now.
As we prepare for the confrontation, enemy arrows begin to rain down on our position.
Nevertheless, we trust in the coverings made of thin sheets of steel and earth, small roofs designed to protect us exclusively from this type of attack.
Armed with our rifles, we understand there's no need to advance; our mission is crystal clear: to eliminate any approaching enemies.
My gaze fixates on the specialized gunners, adept at precise calculations. With meticulous care, they jot down notes on sheets and gauge distances with their binoculars. I observe as they fine-tune firing angles and calculate distances with millimeter precision.
Each movement is deliberate, every gesture calculated amidst the unfolding chaos.
The morning sun casts a strong light on the battlefield, while combat-induced dust mingles with the breeze rustling through the sparse grass.
Particularly, Sofia shines for her brilliance in calculations. Thanks to her and the general, our artillery boasts the brightest minds, instilling confidence amid battlefield uncertainty.
Meanwhile, the soldiers at the front maintain their fire without advancing, recognizing that, in our scenario, retreat proves more strategic than progression.
The scent of gunpowder hangs in the air, mingled with the sweat and fear exuding from every pore of my skin. Our strength lies in distance, not in close combat.
When the artillery sub-captain is prepared, I point forward with determination and command with a firm, authoritative voice:
"Fire!" The thunderous roar of the cannons reverberates in the valley, accompanied by the whistling of projectiles slicing through the air.
Through my binoculars, I witness a demihuman advancing with a shield, distorted by the dust cloud raised by our bombs.
BOOM! A series of explosions rocks the surroundings, birthing billowing clouds of fire.
The ground trembles faintly beneath our feet, as though the earth itself quakes in awe of our artillery's might.
The peculiar sound of projectiles being launched shatters the silence, echoing in the air like a sinister refrain blending seamlessly with the surrounding chaos.
Our soldiers persist in firing, striving to contain the demihumans while the artillery readies for its next volley.
At this base, approximately three hundred soldiers stand in formation, each with their weapon at the ready, firing unrelentingly forward.
Their uniforms drenched in sweat, their faces tense with the strain of battle.
Peering through the binoculars, I observe hundreds of magical flashes illuminating the dust-filled air.
Amidst the chaos wrought by enemy magical assaults, frantic orders echo among the soldiers.
"Take cover! Protect your heads!" a sergeant shouts as soldiers crouch and seek refuge behind trenches and makeshift walls.
Boom! A nearby explosion reverberates, followed by the cries of soldiers struck by enemy fire.
Chaos envelops me, my heart pounding in my chest as I witness the devastation around me.
It's my inaugural war experience, and the cries of wounded soldiers and the stench of burning flesh hit me like a gut punch.
"Healer! I need assistance here!" a soldier cries out, anguish evident as he writhes in pain on the ground, uniform engulfed in flames.
"Fuck! I can't move!" another soldier's voice is laced with pain as he lies trapped under debris from a destroyed trench.
"Shit! We need more cover here!" a third soldier's voice barely audible amidst the battle's cacophony.
Enemy fire engulfs some of our comrades, consuming them in a deadly dance of flames. The sight is harrowing, their agonized cries piercing my mind like sharp daggers.
Field medics dart back and forth, desperately attempting to save the wounded amid the chaos.
"I need more bandages here!" one of them shouts urgently, endeavoring to staunch a hemorrhage.
"Bring the water lamictas! These soldiers suffer severe burns!" another orders, determination etched on his face as he tries to ease the wounded's pain.
The wrenching cries of the injured meld with the battle's tumult, sending shivers down to the depths of my soul.
Amidst the smoke and flames, I feel the overwhelming burden of war, yet I refuse to be paralyzed by it.
The sense of helplessness overwhelms me, but I must summon the strength to persevere, to fight for those who cannot fend for themselves. Determination kindles within me, and I vow not to surrender, even as the horrors of battle threaten to engulf me.
I raise my binoculars, noting the advance has been hindered by the mortars. At this pace, they will reach us a few minutes later than anticipated.
Visibility is drastically reduced by the dust kicked up with each step of the demihumans, and the cries of agony start blending with the gunfire and explosions.
Demihumans prove more resilient than any human, leading us to adopt a simple yet effective strategy: maintain a relentless barrage of gunfire upon them.
Advancing would only shorten our window for firing.
We are aware that, like animals, demihumans are sensitive to loud noises. It's intrinsic to their nature, even if they try to mask it through training. It's a weakness they can't escape, one we'll exploit to the fullest.
"Prepare all cannons!" I extend my hand, locking eyes with the artillery captain with resolve.
Soldiers, with sweat glistening on their brows and palpable fear in their gazes, hasten to obey orders. Some move with agility, while others struggle to contain the panic threatening to overwhelm them.
"Hurry up, damn it! We haven't got all day!" the captain bellows, frustration evident as he gestures toward the mortars.
The gunners work frenetically, their skilled hands adjusting angles and calculating trajectories with millimeter precision. Some mutter curses under their breath, while others silently pray for a stroke of luck to extricate them from this nightmare.
"Ready to fire, sir!" announces a gunner, his voice drowned out by the battle's cacophony.
"Fire!" I command firmly, and the mortars whistle as they are fired...
More than twenty cannons fire in a continuous sequence through the breaches in the walls, sparing no resources.
Soldiers hold their breath as they witness the spectacle, hoping the mortars fulfill their purpose and halt the enemy's advance.
BOOM!
Explosions decimate everything in their path, casting grotesque shadows over the desolate landscape.
"Let's go, let's go, let's go! We can't let them catch up!" I shout, my voice drowned out by the artillery's roar.
Soldiers respond with a chorus of shouts and oaths, each ready to give their all for the cause. Some exchange determined glances, while others offer gestures of encouragement amidst the chaos.
"Maintain the line, soldiers! We won't let the enemy prevail!" I exclaim, striving to instill courage amidst the encroaching despair.
The soldiers' faces reflect a blend of fear and bravery, an unwavering determination propelling them to keep fighting despite the odds.
In the midst of battle's chaos, we find the fortitude to press on, for we know victory or death are the only options.
Amidst the chaos of battle, soldiers fight valiantly, their tense, sweaty faces reflecting the gravity of the moment.
My hands tremble slightly as I survey the battlefield, seeking any sign that could alter the course of this desperate struggle.
"Maintain the pressure! We can't allow them to regroup!" I shout, my voice resonating above the battle's tumult as I urge my men to maintain momentum.
The cannons thunder once more, sending roaring projectiles towards the enemy front and sowing discord among their ranks.
"Hold firm, soldiers! We can't allow them to recover!" I decree, making a vigorous gesture with my hand.
With determination in their eyes, soldiers spring into action, some firing, others reloading. The coordination is flawless, their hearts brimming with courage and resolve.
Despite the fear that grips them, they know there's no turning back and that they must fight until the end.
In the midst of the battle's chaos, amidst the cries and explosions, my mind whirls in a tempest of thoughts.
On one hand, I feel confident in our armaments, in the might of our weapons to defeat the enemy without the need for elaborate strategy.
But simultaneously, an arrow falls at my feet, echoing Marco's words.
"Don't rely solely on your sense of power," he cautioned me. And my mind begins to entertain all possibilities. Amidst the shouts and chaos, I must concentrate to the utmost.
I nervously bite my nails, feeling the urgency of the moment as I survey the battlefield with resolve.
It's an opportunity to repel the enemy, to alter the course of the battle, but it's also a moment fraught with uncertainty and peril.
With fists tightly clenched, I beckon Sofia with a decisive gesture.
I'm keenly aware that her presence at the base in the mountains, kilometers away, is now indispensable in this pivotal situation. We stand at a crossroads, and we must act with both wisdom and determination to secure victory.
Then, the call is answered through the radio. Sofia, with her sharp and focused gaze, peers through the telescope and conveys her observations to me with a military bearing.
Her grave expression and resolute tone underscore the gravity of the moment.
"Several mages have gathered in a covered area, I can't discern what's happening because it's concealed beneath a roof of earth, but it seems they're on the verge of unleashing the power of magical projectiles," Sofia reports after a brief silence that fills my heart with uncertainty.
The weight of her words descends like a leaden weight upon our shoulders, reminding us of the imminent threat we face. I strive to maintain composure, though fear threatens to overwhelm me.
"Sofia," I inquire, my voice firm despite the intensity of my pounding heart, "how many of those impacts could we withstand?"
My gaze searches Sofia's, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.
Sofia takes a few moments to ponder the question, the tension in the air almost palpable. I watch as her eyes scour the horizon in search of a precise answer.
"At most, the bunkers could endure two projectiles," she responds finally, a figure lower than we had anticipated. A collective sigh seems to escape us at the news, as we brace ourselves for what lies ahead.
We confront an agonizing dilemma: stand our ground and face the onslaught or relinquish this position and retreat. The steel fortifications, erected with meticulous care and dedication, represent our sole hope for survival.
Bunkers, as Marco termed them.
Then, a plan crystallizes in my mind without delay.
"Soldiers! Commence the retreat!" I declare with determination, extending my arm in a decisive gesture that signals the outset of our evacuation strategy.
The mages around me hasten to erect earth walls, as massive as possible, spanning the entire area, obscuring the enemy's view.
Determination radiates from their actions, every movement calculated with precision as they collaborate to bolster our defenses.
The walls rise magnificently above those already constructed, towering proudly to over ten meters in height, an imposing barrier that stands as our final bastion of defense.
I observe with pride the determination of my soldiers, who work urgently and efficiently to prepare for the impending attack.
The soldiers, with resolve and urgency, begin loading the wagons, lifting the wounded with care and allowing the fallen to rest within the bunkers.
The bunkers, conceived as secure refuges, could prove useful, but at this juncture, amidst the tempest of battle, I sense I can contribute more.
While they evacuate, the frontline will remain to defend. The strategy is to take shelter in the bunkers, thus granting them an advantage in escape.
Each movement is a coordinated dance of survival, a race against time amidst the chaos of battle.
My mind races as I desperately seek a solution to confront this critical situation.
"Fire mages!" my voice, imbued with authority, reverberates above the clamor of battle, "Raise the balloons!"
"Understood, colonel!" one of the mages responds, determination gleaming in his eyes as he hastens to comply with my orders.
The tension in the air is palpable, but we cannot allow it to paralyze us. Every second is precious in this struggle for survival.
Five hot air balloons, the fruit of collective effort, ascend into the sky as beacons of hope amidst the surrounding darkness. In my mind, the strategy becomes as clear as a lighthouse in the night.
"Place all the bombs in the balloons, they will be our decoys," I order with determination as enemy arrows rain down on us.
My thoughts race at full speed, seeking a way to make those balloons ascend without being shot down by enemy fire. The situation is critical, and our only option is to resist.
Groups begin to disperse, fear and anguish palpable in the air. Everyone fears for their lives, but now is not the time to hesitate.
I observe with determination how the teams organize themselves to place the bombs in the balloons, while our ranks are battered by a rain of enemy arrows.
"Keep your heads down and the fire constant!" shouts one of the soldiers, urging his comrades to stay alert and on guard.
"Do not leave a single space uncovered!" orders another, adjusting his position for better aim against the enemy.
Meanwhile, the mages hurry to inflate the balloons, strategically distributing them to maximize their effectiveness as decoys.
"Quickly, we need those balloons in the air right now!" exclaims another mage, urging his comrades to work even faster.
We continue to shoot, fighting with all our might to contain the enemy's advance.
"Do not stop firing, soldiers! Our survival depends on it!" I shout, trying to instill morale in our troops.
Earth magic protects us, but it is not enough to completely stop the deadly magical projectiles of the enemy.
"Hold the line, do not let the enemy advance!" shouts one of the officers, while watching the enemy's advance with concern.
The soldiers move nervously, but they remain determined to protect what is theirs.
"Everyone to your positions! We cannot let the enemy overpower us!" exclaims another, trying to maintain order amid the chaos of battle.
In the midst of this struggle for survival, tension rises to unforeseen levels.
Every glance, every gesture, is a reflection of the sacrifice and determination that drive us forward, no matter the difficulties that arise in our path.
Without them, no matter what, we will not survive. The weight of responsibility hangs over us, and my voice resonates with determination amidst the chaos.
"Soldiers, we will stay here. They will attack the wall and the base, so I need everyone to enter the bunkers immediately when I shout," I order, and they immediately nod.
It is a difficult but necessary decision. The strategy weaves like a dark and calculated cloak.
"Artillery squadron! Fire!" I order with intensity. "We will make ourselves known, we will make it appear that we are attacking from this place."
We will sacrifice the cannons, but we will gain something more.
Despite my shout, the artillery does not respond.
The noise seems to be so loud that no one can hear me.
"ARTILLERY!" I shout louder, but upon seeing the dead bodies in several mortars, I realize.
They are prey to fear.
Groups begin to disperse, gripped by fear and uncertainty. I try to maintain composure as I watch my soldiers seem to waver, unable to overcome the panic that threatens to paralyze them.
Just as I am about to communicate my next order, Alsten's powerful voice breaks through the confusion, resonating with authority and determination on the battlefield.
"Soldiers! I need you to stay in your damn cannons!" his shout reverberates in our hearts, instilling us with an unbreakable sense of duty. "While everyone else retreats, we must hold the line!"
Alsten advances with a select group of soldiers, occupying the center of the battlefield.
I am impressed to see how his leadership and courage inspire others, pulling them out of the state of paralysis they were in.
The flanks strategically retreat, concentrating our strength in the heart of the defense, following Alsten's instructions. I watch as my soldiers, now revitalized by the determination of our colonel, prepare to face the challenge with renewed vigor.
Meanwhile, the mages finish positioning the balloons, placing them several meters apart from each other. We continue to shoot without rest, desperately trying to stop the enemy's advance with all our might.
We know that we can only hope to withstand, at best, two of those deadly magical projectiles.
Earth magic, though powerful, will not be enough this time. If we want to survive this day, we will be forced to take even riskier measures.
"Secure the dragons in the main bunkers!" My voice resonates with determination as we face the uncertainty of the future, determined to move forward despite the challenges ahead.
With Alsten's leadership and our soldiers' determination, we know we can face any challenge that comes our way.
Several bursts of fire begin to emerge by our side. Five in total, indicating that the preparations are complete. The mages have worked diligently to enchant the balloons, endowing them with the ability to ascend rapidly and avoid the reach of enemy arrows.
I watch with admiration as the balloons majestically rise into the sky, fulfilling their crucial role in our strategy.
"Soldiers, into the bunkers! Destroy the front wall!" I shout with determination, aware that we are on the threshold of the ultimate battle.
Orders quickly spread among the ranks of soldiers, and the soldiers hurry to obey, prepared to face whatever may come.
Earth mages respond to my call, launching fire lamictas towards the enemy walls, causing explosions that pave the way for enemy arrows to enter the battlefield.
With the wall destroyed, they will focus their troops on us, as well as become nervous not knowing whether to attack the balloon or us.
It's controlled chaos, a deadly dance of fire and steel that will determine the fate of this war.
The retreat begins, and all eyes focus on the wall that is no longer there. I take cover behind an improvised barricade and grip my weapon, ready to defend our position with all my strength.
A small squad of brave soldiers stands by my side, firing with determination while the rest of the forces take refuge in the bunkers.
Some begin to fall, but I stand firm, determined not to yield to fear or pain. I know I must survive; I must be a beacon of hope for my soldiers amidst this relentless darkness.
"Keep firing!" I shout over the roar of explosions around me, urging my comrades to stand firm and stay focused on the task ahead.
The battle unfolds in an unrelenting crescendo, and uncertainty mixes with courage in a deadly dance that will define the fate of our lives and those around us.
Bang! I shoot from cover towards the cracks in the walls. The semi-humans begin to pass through, but just when I think it can't get any worse.
Boom!
The impact is sudden, overwhelming. I feel the heat engulfing me, my body instinctively tensing, seeking protection against the merciless force that drags me without mercy.
My arms instinctively rise, trying in vain to cover myself, as if they could offer some kind of protection against the chaos surrounding me.
The intense heat envelops me, the air fills with a deafening buzz that seems to pierce my eardrums, and a sense of despair takes hold of me as I plummet towards the ground.
"Cover!" voices around me shout, but their words come through a distorted veil, barely audible over the roar of the explosion that has thrown me into the air.
"The colonel has been hit! We need to get her out of there!" one of the soldier's shouts, his voice full of anguish and determination.
I try to focus my mind, struggling to understand what is happening, but everything is confusing, blurry.
The world spins around me, colors blend in a whirlwind of movement and sound. My senses are overwhelmed by the magnitude of the chaos, and fighting against the current seems like a battle lost from the beginning.
Pain seeps through the confusion, like a flame that fuels the torment within me. My arms burn with an intense heat, the skin tightens and cracks under the relentless heat of the explosion. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore the pain that threatens to consume me completely.
Finally, the ground approaches rapidly, and I brace myself for the inevitable impact. The pain intensifies with every fraction of a second that passes, and my body tenses in anticipation of the blow.
I land with a dull thud, the world turns black around me as darkness envelops me, dragging me into its relentless depths.
With pain pulsating in every fiber of my being, something inside me begins to change. A burning sensation takes hold of my body, coursing through my veins like liquid fire.
My breathing becomes erratic as an indomitable energy builds up within me.
My eyes, once brimming with determination, now reflect an overflowing intensity. A crimson gleam begins to shimmer in them, an inner flame yearning to break free.
My vision turns red, so intense that I feel as if I'm going blind.
A whisper in my mind, barely perceptible at first, grows in strength and clarity. It's as if an ancestral voice is stirring within me, urging me to embrace the dormant power within.
Yet, I cannot grasp its message.
With each heartbeat, my white hair begins to vibrate, transforming before my very eyes. The pure white fades into shades of burning red, as if flames themselves were woven into each strand.
The sensation of heat consuming me intensifies, enveloping me in an aura of incandescent energy. I can feel the power of the flames within me, a primordial force longing to be unleashed.
Without hesitation, I release the control I've maintained over myself for so long. I open the floodgates of my inner power, letting the strength of absolute fire unleash with unbridled fury.
A wave of heat radiates from my body, consuming everything in its path. The crimson flames dance around me, devouring the darkness of the battle with insatiable voracity.
My comrades recoil at the spectacle, amazed and fearful of the magnitude of my newly awakened power.
But amidst the chaos and destruction, I find a sense of inner peace, a certainty that I've found my true self in the flames of rebirth.
The voices of the soldiers resonate in my ears, merging with the deafening roar of battle.
"ROAAAR!" the enemy's cries, now clearer than ever before.
I can feel their palpable concern, their desire to ensure my survival amidst this terrible onslaught. Despite the pain that envelops me, a sense of gratitude washes over me as I realize I'm not alone in this fight.
My hair rises like an angry serpent, another manifestation of the energy consuming me from within.
"Are you okay?" someone asks, extending a hand to help me. However, they quickly withdraw it, as if afraid of being burned by touching me.
For a brief moment, I watch as smoke rises from my body, as if every cell were ignited by the flames of the sun itself. My vision returns to normal, but a burning heat fills me from within.
What is happening? I wonder, but I have no time to find answers.
My gaze meets Alsten's, who watches me with astonishment and bewilderment. In that moment, I understand that something greater and more powerful than I could have ever imagined has awakened within me.
After the sudden cessation of the flames, several demihumans begin to emerge from the gap in the wall.
In a fleeting moment, my vision fills with terror as hundreds of arrows and magical projectiles hurtle towards us, each one a deadly threat destined to annihilate us.
"Keep firing!" Alsten shouts, and all the soldiers shoot at the walls. They have accepted their fate, intending to protect their people.
The darkness of the battle intensifies, and the deafening sound of war echoes in my ears.
The searing heat consuming me from within intensifies, and an indomitable sense of power seizes me. I watch as smoke rises from my body, as if every cell were ignited by the flames of the sun itself.
What is happening? I wonder, but time to reflect dwindles as chaos erupts around me.
An arrow hurtles towards me, and without thinking, I extend my hand towards it. But something strange happens I feel nothing, neither fear nor pain.
The fire emanating from me devours my gloves and part of my sleeves, transforming them into ashes instantly. The incoming arrows are engulfed by a crimson blaze, an explosion of fire that consumes everything in its path.
Extending for several meters, the entire sky is obscured by the blaze emanating from my hands.
The projectiles continue to advance, but they meet their end in an impenetrable wall of heat. The fiery energy emanating from my being dissolves them in the air, evaporating them as if they had never existed.
All the projectiles are reduced to nothing, and the enemy is left dumbfounded, staring at what has happened in terror.
I open my eyes in surprise, astonished by the power that has been unleashed within me. The voice of someone shouts from the chaos, announcing my miraculous intervention.
"The colonel is saving us! Fall back!" he shouts, his voice full of astonishment and relief.
The battlefield turns into a chaotic stage, where the roar of war echoes in the air and explosions shake the ground. Soldiers run in all directions, some shouting orders while others struggle to survive amidst the chaos.
The morning sun illuminates the scene, but threatening clouds begin to appear on the horizon, foreshadowing a storm looming over the battlefield.
"Advance, soldiers! We cannot retreat now!" the commander shouts, his voice resonating above the din of battle.
The soldiers, with expressions of determination mixed with fear and anguish, cling to their weapons and advance bravely toward the enemy.
The acrid smell of smoke and gunpowder permeates the air, while the metallic taste of blood mixes with the dust raised by the explosions, creating an oppressive and suffocating atmosphere.
In the midst of chaos, commanders shout orders and soldiers fight to stand firm against the enemy onslaught.
"Maintain formation! We cannot allow the enemy to overrun us!" another officer orders, his voice firm and decisive. "We are the wall that will allow our own to defend."
Meanwhile, clouds begin to cover the sky, casting ominous shadows over the battlefield and plunging the surroundings into increasing darkness.
Despite the darkness looming over them, the soldiers continue to fight valiantly, guided by the hope of a victory that still seems distant.
The balloons have already breached the walls, rising, and heading towards their fortress.
Several demihumans prepare their arrows; however, the wizards begin to attack them from distant covers. Although they are few, it's evident they won't reach the bunkers, and even if they do, I doubt they'll emerge unscathed.
Nevertheless, they fight to protect their loved ones.
My focus shifts to the frontline, and without hesitation, I grip my pistol and launch myself towards them.
Bang! The sound of gunfire rips through the air, marking the beginning of our desperate struggle for survival amidst the clamor and confusion.
A well-aimed shot breaks the silence, toppling the lion-man standing defiantly before me.
In the chaos of battle, Alsten shouts his orders with authority, indicating which soldiers to face. Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I prepare for the impending combat.
Suddenly, a woman charges towards me fiercely, her eyes brimming with determination. Meanwhile, a bull-man charges with his mace raised high, ready to crush me.
There's no room for indecision.
"I'm going to kill you, human!" the woman shouts furiously as she approaches, her knife gleaming menacingly.
With the precision I've acquired, I aim directly at the bull's head and discharge a bullet into his forehead. His imposing figure crashes to the ground, enveloped in a cloud of dust and debris.
However, he's not dead.
"Now you're history, human!" the bull-man growls with a guttural voice, his mace gleaming with malevolent intent.
The woman, however, attempts to attack me with her knife, but I know I must act swiftly. In an instant, I meld my own knife, transforming it into an incandescent steel projectile that I launch towards her.
The contact with the red-hot metal paralyzes her, leaving a look of astonishment in her eyes as she desperately tries to remove it from her face.
"AGHHHHH!" her scream pierces the chaos as she struggles.
I deliver a fatal shot to her head, ending her suffering.
"You can't escape your fate, warrior!' the bull-man snarls, lunging at me.
Taking advantage of his large size, I've delivered a precise blow to his solar plexus. My fist penetrates his body, but instead of flesh and blood, a dark and suffocating smoke emerges.
My fist pierces through his body effortlessly, but simultaneously begins to char him.
The smell of burnt flesh assaults my senses as I watch him struggle to breathe.
"I won't let you get away with it, monster!" I declare with determination, intent on ending his suffering.
Taking the woman's weapon, I drive the blade into his chest, putting an end to his torment. My gaze frantically scans around me for the other assailant, but there's no trace of him.
The heat of battle consumes me, and it feels as if my own skin wants to communicate with me.
The smoke emanating from my hands continues to swirl, dense and scorching, a manifestation of my inner power awakening amidst the fray.
In the blink of an eye, I hear a scream from behind me, a stealthy death threat approaching. My body reacts instinctively, spinning agilely to face the new enemy.
Before I can comprehend, a deadly blade hurtles towards my eyes, wielded by a man shrouded in dark smoke. The metal gleams with intense heat as it hurtles towards my eyes, and everything unfolds in slow motion, like in a surreal dream where death lurks in every shadow.
I struggle to remember; my mind strives to recollect every memory, every image, every emotion. Everything converges in a chaotic whirlwind within me.
Suddenly, amidst the anguish and chaos, whispered words emerge like an echo from the shadows themselves.
"You must seek, you must let the fire grow within you, in you resides the legacy of ######." The revelation envelops me like a flame burning in the darkness."
The battle is far from over, and the enigma of my own power threatens to reveal itself in the heat of the conflict.
The last words fade into the tumult of battle, but their echo lingers in my mind. Suddenly, my body is consumed with unbearable intensity. A searing agony overtakes me, as if my heart is about to burst into flames.
"AGGGGHH!" A cry of anguish escapes my lips as I watch a piece of charred flesh fall at my feet.
I desperately try to survey my surroundings, but all I find is a tangle of crimson flames. Arrows rain down on me, but before they can touch me, they turn to ashes.
The ground is stained red beneath my feet, and the screams of pain echo in my bewildered mind. Amidst the chaos, someone calls out my name, and before I can react, I feel a sharp blow to the back of my neck.
I open my eyes, feeling the persistent buzz of pain in my head as someone carefully carries me.
Their red hair billows in the wind, but their face is marked by burns, evidence of the suffering caused by my uncontrollable power. Each step they take seems to be a silent agony, and I feel a pang of guilt for putting them in danger.
I gaze upward, towards the balloons gracefully soaring in the air.
Despite the chaos surrounding us, a sense of relief washes over me at the sight of them. Suddenly, a dazzling light illuminates the landscape, followed by deafening explosions that reverberate around us.
"BOOOOOM!"
The explosions cause the balloons to burst into a shower of fragments, while the strategically placed mines we had activated neutralize the projectiles heading towards us.
It's as if time stands still for a moment as I marvel at how our meticulous planning bear's fruit.
The balloons, which would normally have been unable to stop the advance of the projectiles on their own, now become improvised shields thanks to the precision of our actions.
Crusch, with his expert knowledge of magical weaponry, has been instrumental in this crucial moment, helping us calculate every detail in advance.
In the sky, clouds of fire rise majestically, a visual testament to our momentary victory over the forces surrounding us. Now, with the path cleared for a brief moment, all that remains is to reach the bunkers and ensure our comrades' safety.
My plan has worked, and a wave of relief washes over me momentarily. However, the calm is short-lived, as the soldiers around us begin to scream frantically, warning of the imminent danger looming ahead.
"Here it comes!" some exclaim, while others hurry to load their weapons and prepare for battle.
I gaze ahead and see that we are mere meters away from the bunker entrance.
Our objective is within reach, but behind us, a group of demihumans pursues us with determination, eager to catch up.
In the sky, chaos unfolds in the form of magically propelled projectiles hurtling towards us. I can feel adrenaline pumping furiously through my veins as we venture further into the danger zone.
Is this truly what war means? A constant struggle between life and death, where every second could be the last?
"Luan, can you promise me something?" Alsten's voice cuts through the chaos surrounding us, his tone filled with urgency and determination. "If we survive this, will you promise me that we will fight to win every battle, even if it means defying the royal order itself?
His words resonate in my mind, laden with deep resentment and determination. I realize that Alsten is hiding something, something that goes beyond this war and reaches the depths of his soul.
"Both this war and any other we face," my words emerge firmly, committing myself to move forward no matter what, as I watch the fireball rapidly approach. "We will win at any cost."
"LEAP!" Alsten's shout snaps me out of my trance, and in an instant, I find myself behind one of the soldiers inside the bunker.
Confusion grips me as I try to comprehend what just happened, but before I can process it, Alsten urgently orders, "Close the damn door!"
The soldiers hasten to obey.
BOOOM!
The explosion's roar shakes the ground beneath our feet. The screams of pain are quickly drowned out by the intensity of the blast.
I observe Alsten, who kneels with difficulty, his body marked by deep burns and smoke rising from his battered skin, a shadow of what he once was.
"Colonel!" the soldiers rush towards Alsten, but he remains kneeling, his face still marked by pain, but his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if glimpsing an uncertain future.
Carefully, the soldiers lift him and place him on a stretcher inside the bunker, where he will be attended to by the medics immediately.
I bow my head, trying to ignore the piercing pain that consumes me. At this critical moment, everyone's lives depend on our actions and decisions.
Drawing my metía, I summon Sofia, who quickly arrives upon seeing that we are inside the bunker. The metía bears burn marks, but I'm surprised to see that it held up.
The general would kill me if I damaged it.
Without wasting time on superfluous words, I issue a firm and urgent command.
"Fire the magic cannons, use all available magic projectiles."
Without hesitation, she directs the soldiers to carry out the order.
From my position, I cannot clearly see the enemy camp; the cloudy sky suggests the imminent arrival of rain.
"Fire!" her voice resonates authoritatively amidst the battle's thunder.
The cannons activate, and from inside the bunker, I watch with anticipation as a light follows a precise trajectory. My eyes fix on that point; if our plan succeeds, the enemy will have no way to protect themselves.
They didn't expect us to be in the mountains, and that gives us a crucial advantage in this confrontation.
A smile of satisfaction spreads across my face and, in a matter of seconds...
BOOM!
An imposing ice tree begins to grow, radiant and majestic, large enough to be visible to the naked eye. Sofia looks at me with a triumphant smile.
"We did it!" she exclaims excitedly, as the soldiers erupt in cheers of joy, celebrating the partial victory we have achieved. "Their cannons have been destroyed."
The plan has been executed perfectly.
"They're retreating; it's time to corner them," Sofia declares firmly. I nod and turn my gaze towards the group.
"Take the wounded to the camp. We prepare for the attack. We must join the army in the battalion."
I feel a sharp pain in my bones, but at this moment, they need someone to guide them.
"We're going out!"
"As ordered, Colonel!" they all shout in unison, opening the doors and facing the devastation we have caused.
As we step out, what is revealed before me are charred bodies, bone fragments, and the pungent smell of burnt flesh that assaults me mercilessly.
The mages shoot flames into the sky, attempting to drive back those who retreated even further than us.
At this moment, we must attack. I infuse mana into my throat, but I quickly feel a call in my metía. Upon opening it, I see Lucas, who is the person on the other side of Irlam, the fourth military base, defending the other entrance.
His words hint that the situation is not very good.
"They... Are more!"