The canyon echoed with the frantic clatter of hooves and the anguished whinnies of horses, their cries mingling with the screams of knights in a chaotic symphony of life and death. Dust and snow swirled in the air, kicked up by the desperate stampede, as the scent of blood and fear hung heavy in the narrow chasm.
"Move! Run, damn it!" Aya's voice was raw, his throat hoarse from shouting as he urged the knights forward. His sharp commands cut through the pandemonium, barely audible over the cacophony of falling stones and dying men.
The knights, driven by survival instinct, lashed their horses' flanks with whips or struck them with the flats of their swords, spurring the beasts into a frenzied gallop. Of the three hundred who entered the canyon, only two hundred emerged, leaving behind a trail of over a hundred corpses—crushed, bloodied, and broken beneath the merciless barrage of stones.
The survivors stumbled out of the canyon, their formation in disarray, no longer the disciplined column that had set out from Sakura City. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their faces pale with shock as they gathered, hearts pounding with the lingering terror of the ambush.
"Regroup! Regroup! We're under attack!" Aya bellowed, yanking his longsword from its scabbard. His voice carried the weight of command, rallying the shaken knights as he scanned the horizon for the enemy.
A sharp, rhythmic clatter broke through the haze—a new sound, crisp and deliberate. From the distance, a disciplined cavalry approached, their scarlet banners emblazoned with a black dragon. It was Sedona City's cavalry, led by Aiden, with Freya and Ayesha riding at his side. The beastgirls had insisted on joining the fight, their words echoing in Aiden's mind: 'We fight when it's time to fight. We can't just eat the Master's food for free.'
"Lady Freya, Lady Ayesha," Aiden said, his voice grave as he addressed the two beastgirls, "Our first charge must pierce their formation completely." His eyes were steely, his massive frame radiating authority. As the commander of this battle, he carried the weight of their strategy on his shoulders.
"Understood," Freya replied, her voice cold and resolute. This was her first time on the battlefield, a chance she had fought hard to earn by convincing both Lucas and the princess. Failure was not an option—she would prove her worth, her sword arm steady and unyielding.
"Leave it to me," Ayesha said, her grip tightening on her massive Overlord Spear. Her purple eyes gleamed with determination, her cow-like horns bobbing as she readied herself for the charge.
Aiden exhaled a plume of hot breath into the cold air, his gaze fixed on the enemy knights scrambling to regroup. They had been lying in wait for hours, the ambush meticulously planned. The soldiers who had hurled stones from the canyon's ridges were raw recruits, recently enlisted. Now, Aiden led a seasoned cavalry unit, trained for months and ready to draw first blood. This battle would forge them into true warriors—or break them. 'The first taste of blood is what makes a soldier,' He thought, recalling how his veterans had been tempered by battles against wild boars and the campaign at Sakura City. Those fights had awakened their ferocity, setting them far above the green recruits.
With a metallic clang Aiden drew his longsword, standing tall in his stirrups. He raised the blade high, its edge glinting in the fading light. "Helmets on!" He roared.
Click! The hundred heavy cavalry under his command snapped their faceplates shut, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. Their expressions were grim, lips pressed tight, as they gripped their long, heavy blades designed for cutting through armor and bone. The visors of their helmets revealed only narrow slits, through which their eyes gleamed with a mix of resolve and anticipation.
The heavy cavalry, mostly beastkin, were clad in ponderous steel armor, their movements reliant on the strength of their warhorses. These mounts, the most resilient in the stables, were also armored, transforming horse and rider into mobile fortresses. But the weight was brutal—both for the riders and the horses. Many mounts wouldn't survive a single battle, exhausted by the strain of carrying such heavy loads.
Behind them, two hundred fifty light cavalry prepared, their fish-scale armor lighter and more flexible. Their role was to harass, pursue, and mop up after the heavy cavalry shattered the enemy's lines. Armed with recurve bows, swords, and lances, they were swift and deadly, their unarmored horses built for speed.
"Ready!" Aiden's voice boomed, and the cavalry checked their gear. The heavy riders soothed their restless mounts, tightening their grips on their swords and securing their feet in the stirrups.
"Charge!" Aiden's sword slashed downward, and he spurred his horse forward, leading the assault. Freya and Ayesha flanked him, forming the tip of a wedge-shaped formation that thundered toward the enemy.
The ground trembled under the weight of a hundred heavy cavalry, their hooves pounding with the force of a thousand men. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, leather, and steel, the anticipation of bloodshed palpable.
"Don't falter! They're outnumbered!" Aya shouted, brandishing his sword as he tried to rally his knights. Fear gnawed at him, but he refused to let it show. The enemy's charge was terrifying, their disciplined formation a stark contrast to his own scattered ranks.
"Aya, we should retreat!" Jesse cried, his voice trembling with panic. The sight of Sedona's cavalry, their banners snapping in the wind, had shattered his bravado. His hands shook on the reins, his earlier arrogance replaced by dread.
Slap! Aya's hand cracked across Jesse's face, his expression twisting with fury. "Say one more word to break morale, and I'll kill you myself," He growled, his eyes blazing with killing intent. This was no game—battle was a matter of life and death. Aya knew he might not survive this charge, but he would not let Jesse's cowardice doom them all.
"You… you dare strike me?" Jesse stammered, clutching his cheek. Aya's murderous glare silenced him, the viscount shrinking back in fear.
"Charge!" Aya roared, raising his sword and spurring his horse forward. His face was a mask of grim determination, his heart heavy with the weight of what might be his final battle. Memories flooded his mind—his youth, when he became a knight at eighteen, the pride of his village, the joy of his family. That same year, he had married Joy, the village chief's daughter, in a celebration that had lit up the night. He had been their hero, their champion. Now, at thirty, he was one of Count George's elite knight commanders, a man who had always led from the front, earning glory with every battle. But the loss of Joy, who died in childbirth without leaving him a child, had left a void he had never filled. 'This might be my last ride,' He thought, his heart aching for the life he had lost.
The knights rallied behind him, their hooves pounding as they followed his lead. Jesse, left behind, clutched his stinging cheek, his eyes burning with resentment as he watched his men charge without him.
"Kill!" Aya bellowed, swinging his sword at Aiden. To his despair, the enemy commander didn't even bother to parry, letting the blade strike his armored shoulder. Sparks flew, the steel screeching, but Aiden remained unscathed.
"Die!" Aiden's sword flashed, severing Aya's arm in a single, brutal stroke. His horse charged past, leaving Aya no time to finish the job.
"Ha!" Ayesha's Overlord Spear thrust forward, piercing a knight's chest with the force of her charging horse. With a powerful flick of her wrists, she sent the man flying, his body crashing into the dirt.
Clang! Freya's greatsword swung with deadly precision, each strike claiming a life. The stirrups gave her leverage, allowing her to maneuver with agility despite the weight of her armor.
The heavy cavalry tore through the knightly formation like a battering ram, leaving a trail of devastation. Of Jesse's two hundred remaining knights, only a dozen survived the initial charge, their ranks shattered.
Aya, miraculously, clung to life. Both arms were gone, one eye blinded, and his body was riddled with a dozen wounds. Blood soaked his armor, dripping onto the snow below. "Joy… I must look terrible, don't I?" He rasped, his voice faint. "Joy, I'm coming. Did you see my glory?" He swayed in the saddle, his lips closing around the reins, just as he had done at twelve, riding with Joy in his arms, her laughter calling him her knight. 'She said I was her knight… her only knight.' With Joy gone, he had nothing left to lose. Today, he will join her.
"Charge!" Aya's final cry rang out, weak but defiant, as he spurred his horse forward one last time, the reins gripped in his teeth.
The ground shook as Sedona's cavalry pressed their advantage, their hooves thundering in pursuit of the broken remnants of Jesse's forces.
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