The air smelled of burnt metal and sweat as Captain Elias Veyne wiped the blood from his brow. The battlefield was a graveyard of fallen soldiers, their banners trampled into the mud. The Twelfth Legion had been broken—but not yet defeated.
"Rally to me!" Elias roared, his voice cutting through the din of clashing steel. The remnants of his company staggered toward him, their faces streaked with grime and exhaustion. Among them was Lieutenant Kael, his left arm hanging limp at his side, and Sergeant Mira, her spear splintered but still clutched tight in her grip.
Kael spat blood onto the ground. "They outnumber us three to one, Captain. We can't hold this line."
Elias tightened his grip on his sword. "We don't have to hold it. We just have to break theirs."
A horn blast echoed from the enemy ranks, signaling another advance. The Darathi war machine was relentless, their black-armored soldiers advancing like a tide of shadow. Behind them, the siege engines groaned, their payloads of flaming pitch ready to turn the field into an inferno.
Mira adjusted her grip on her broken spear. "If we die, let's make it count."
Elias nodded. "Form the wedge. Kael, take the left flank. Mira, the right. We hit them hard and fast—before those engines fire."
The Twelfth moved as one, their battered shields locking together. Elias led the charge, his blade flashing in the dying light. The first clash was brutal. A Darathi soldier lunged, his curved sword aiming for Elias's throat. Elias parried, twisted, and drove his own blade through the man's ribs. The air filled with the screams of the wounded and the sickening crunch of bone.
Kael fought like a man possessed, his injured arm forgotten as he hacked through the enemy line. Blood sprayed as his sword found flesh, his teeth bared in a snarl. "For the Legion!" he bellowed.
Mira was a whirlwind of motion, her shattered spear still lethal in close quarters. She ducked under a swinging axe and drove the splintered end into an attacker's eye. The man howled, collapsing as she ripped it free.
But the Darathi kept coming.
Elias felt the weight of fatigue pressing down on him. His muscles burned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He risked a glance toward the siege engines—too close. If they fired now, the Twelfth would be wiped out.
Then he saw it.
A flicker of movement on the ridge above the battlefield. A banner, tattered but unmistakable—the silver wolf of the Seventh Legion. Reinforcements.
"Hold!" Elias shouted. "Hold the line!"
The Darathi commander must have seen it too. His orders rang out, and the black-armored soldiers hesitated, their advance faltering.
That was all the time the Seventh needed.
A volley of arrows darkened the sky, thudding into the Darathi ranks. Then came the cavalry, their lances lowered, their war cries shaking the earth. The enemy line shattered under the impact.
Elias didn't waste the opportunity. "Forward! Push them back!"
The Twelfth surged ahead, their exhaustion forgotten in the rush of newfound hope. The Darathi broke, their discipline crumbling as the Seventh's cavalry carved through them. The siege engines were abandoned, their crews fleeing into the smoke.
When the dust settled, the field was theirs.
Kael slumped against a broken shield, his face pale from blood loss. "Damn. Thought we were done for."
Mira wiped her spear clean on a fallen enemy's cloak. "Next time, maybe wait for the reinforcements *before* charging in, Captain."
Elias allowed himself a tired smirk. "Where's the fun in that?"
A rider from the Seventh approached, his armor dented but his bearing proud. "Captain Veyne. Commander Dain sends his regards. He's waiting for you at the forward camp."
Elias nodded. "Tell him we're on our way."
As the Twelfth gathered their wounded and salvaged what weapons they could, Elias looked out over the battlefield. They had won today—but the war was far from over. The Darathi Empire wouldn't retreat for long. And there were darker whispers on the wind—rumors of something ancient stirring in the wastes beyond the mountains.
He sheathed his sword.
"Let's move out."
The road ahead was long, and honor was not so easily reclaimed.