The chaos from the single volley bred havoc unfolding across the field. Marks of terrors befell their enemies but the culprit army gave no cheers for an early victory and found no guilt for having unleashed their wrath. Standing with his binoculars, a Rus officer scanned the Aelon’s front whose center had collapsed. Troops hurried and returned into formation without their officers which half had been cut down as regiments knew not whether to tighten up or disperse themselves. But no matter, their army had shrunken, divided into parts like scars that the cannons had left behind. Lingering on a road between life and death, their comrades knew that they could not be saved, yet crawled, needlessly, crying for a merciful end. Drums continued to beat from the distant hill from where half their half battery of field guns had been rendered piles of scrap steel and iron. As the smoke from the fires cleared under a gust, the Aelon were found staying instead of fleeing and the Confederates could not believe their eyes. Even from the volleys that they launched against them, they stood staunchly. Lowering his binoculars, the general’s aide stood on a crate. Around him laid the wounded and the dead in craters from the half a dozen shots fired into his ranks. Yet, not a single piece of his batteries on either flank had been scathed. Its barrels cooled and its breeches opened, emptying shells. His crewmen hoisted new rounds from a depot behind and inserted them before shutting and locking their guns. Readjusting its elevation from the recoil that had pounded the artilleries back by inches, the cannons were primed to fire again.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDCrFEqWXa3
The aide addressed the man beside him, turning to his commander with his men waiting for orders, “Colonel general.”48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqdlaVrJQUS
Stepping down from the crate, he offered his binoculars for his superior to see, but from his imposing posture, the general told without a word that he needed not assistance to recognize the effects of his guns which wrought.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiiRaqYXPUJ
“Hold fire.” The colonel general held up a hand and gave a command that surprised even himself.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Rb3AR6pID
Heeded, his order was repeated in full volume by his subordinates who saw his signal flags raised. Bombardiers distanced themselves from their guns and formed into a line at attention as their captains turned to their general. The trees lived undisturbed and the forest of life fell quiet. The only troubles that were there in the air were the shouts and cries of the distressed Bohemer who failed to keep themselves steady. As the thunder of footsteps and the reloading of chambers had all halted, the two forces were pit into a standoff again, as if the Confederates were welcoming their enemies to the challenge of a distant exchange of fire.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3vrdKdQ2ut
At the ready, the colonel twiddled his mustache and twisted his pitch as he asked further, “Shall we reel our catch in?”48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2pTYm5kXiM
The colonel general read the skies who whispered to him what was to be done. Needing a brief minute of silence to determine whether he should heed the heavens, he thought and readjusted his strategy. Like every second in war, the situation had changed and he came down upon his decision. Bringing up a hand, he pinched the air and snapped his fingers that reverberantly told his colonel instantly what needed to be done. Braced to attention, his aide saluted and turned away, styling his hair and spinning his finger to rendezvous the troops of his own personal guard. As an assembly of officers slowly disbanded, new orders quickly flowed to those it concerned.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9ka7G7lFpT
“Pjrměs lїnÿa av ědzaržїbai, martsau’udzprjekšu wor žěta av desmjt! (First line, advance ten paces!)” The majors repeated in their mother tongue, the only language that his comrade soldiers understood. “Pastěs šaoytau zak ěrjndai! (Prepare to fire by rank!)” They swung their arms and batons to address.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMps5Kl0Oda
The first line of regiments marched out from the guard of the forest as boys drummed and trumpeted the songs of advance. Positioning themselves ahead of the artillery, the front rank kneeled and pointed their rifles ahead like stakes whilst the back ranks stood to. With a great army under his palm and eyes, at any given opportunity, he drooled to wield his power against an enemy so weak. It felt as if he was kicking a bug about with ease on his side. The colonel general chuckled, knowing victory was soon to be achieved without a need to care.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3GsktGJHTq
He was a man of thirty-two who had an expression irritatingly arrogant. Proud and overbearing, there were reasons to show for his behavior. His eyes were like amber embers, always looking down on those lesser, misted by ash and roaring with fire. A sharp and straight scar was cut along his jaw that shared a deep history of the countless battles he had faced since youth, covered by a thick stubble then. Almost black, his hair was swept back to reveal his tanned, coarse skin that belonged to the figure of a rare warrior. Clad in gold armor, it exaggerated his already tremendous aura, covering him from his neck to his toes, plated to offer movement as crafted by his trusted retainers. Bearing an emblem of a noble family, of a horseman on an untamed plain, his saintly house was unheard of elsewhere but was a figure that was seen many times over in the Ruslands. A noble cossack loyal only to the military and those he perceived to be greater, there was no one else to him but Leonid Vasilevsky.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnNj1q4CQaU
“A pity.” The colonel general muttered, gripping his great shashka, a guardless saber with a curved ornamental pommel of silver, on his belt. “Even a ripple swept away so many.” He joked of his doings.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1e9JkOS8Fw
Strapped on his arm was a shield gifted by the sun, whose flares were knives of their own. Picking up his helmet from the top of an ammunition crate, he fitted it as if the jaw of a lion devoured his face, with its canines holding his head in place. A rich yellow plume concealed the skull’s top behind the creature’s preying eyes. When amidst the movement of his army, a breeze whistled towards him that disturbed the air’s frequency, the instinct of an animal shone awake and he launched his shielded arm downward, pounding the attacker into the ground before it was even seen. Something was deflected from his shield. A hurtling great lead ball that fleeted to a sudden halt and crashed into the earth. Sizzling, it was no regular bullet but it was neither an artillery shell. However quite a potent force, the round did not dent his shield but it did certainly put a bruise on his forearm. Glaring ahead with murderous calmness, Vasilevsky found his enemy who dared provoke him mounted a hundred paces away.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN9QCY88X54
Riled by a blast of fire that nearly ripped off its ears and mane, the warhorse grew jittery. Smoking, the barrel of a hand cannon faced its foe with a weight that was unrealistically heavy. Forged into a shaft, the gun had no physical trigger, but as thought from the hints of eifer which dissipated, it required that of a god’s blessing to fire. The scent of gunpowder rushed away from the handheld artillery piece as the gun was let down by an arm that tired from holding it straight. An enemy stared, with little hesitation, forcing the young lieutenant general to brand himself a smirk that grew into a smile. Eventually, he could not hold in his childish laughter anymore which had his soldiers think him mad. Seeing his troops grow ever more anxious, Žižka calmed himself before his adjutant bore him a lead ball wrapped in paper. Snatching it from his hand, the round was shoved into the barrel with frustration and was primed with eifer stored on the tip of its wielder’s fingers.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrDaIuNYNaj
Aimed, his barrel and voice resonating across the battlefield, towards his enemies, Žižka boomed, “To hell with you and your shit-ragged whore-bred sons!”48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHogVqVjQoh
Soldiers rose from the piles of the dead. The steaming whiff of raw meat was a thousand times stronger than that of a visit to the butcher’s. As the unwounded and mildly hurted stood, their grips on their rifles tensed, upon hearing the fury of themselves echo from their own general, shouting and insulting with jokes that gave birth to more hatred from his troops. Drawing from the deep of their souls, their ires against their enemies were exposed to the world with cries and clamors, and the morale of the Bohemer suddenly soared. Those fearing were soaked in adrenaline as every breath plunged them into the waters of anger. Many who could not find such emotions in their heart were finally removed of a wreck of nervousness. Only a few among the century trembled with a lasting fear having seen their comrades melted into mud. Around, some who could not stomach the stench turned their insides out. Arminius, who had fell from the force of the cannons, lifted himself from the face of death again. A shrapnel had cut into the armor on his arm which had it not been there, his limb would have been torn off. But realizing, to his side, his comrade had disappeared in the chaos. Searching around, he found one whose blonde hair disturbingly similar was among the corpses. Arminius dropped to his knees and dug, clawing away the mud and flesh that let his friend see light again. Alive, just barely, he had nearly suffocated from the dead around him. Unknowing what had happened, Julien laid with his mind blank and his breath racing as he coughed. Blood and organs had showered him over, as never had he been so close to death. His eyes began to water as another comrade marched towards him and suddenly lifted the lancer by his arm.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSqL2FbPDbV
“C’mon, now,” Emotionlessly, Gin stood Julien. “Shakin’d do ya no good.” Patting on his back, the brute smacked bits of flesh away from the lancer’s already soiled face that made no difference.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0m1J56pUz
Flicking his hand away of dirt, Gin returned himself into formation as Julien looked to Arminius for guidance. But even his friend had not experienced such wrath before and for once, he was stilled without an answer. Perhaps, he was sorry to have dragged him into this conflict, however out of instinct, Arminius pushed Julien to be behind him and rested his rifle on a shoulder. No wait was given for them to dry their eyes and clothe themselves with fearlessness.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWkM9rQcwE3
The commander anticipated his next move to the battle as his steed whinnied and paced about tirelessly. “Servants of the gods,” Žižka straightened his sword up to the sky. “I bid you use the wrath of the heavens!”48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Ip3Mkmn00
Rifles aimed down by the thousands out of line, all striking a hope to have a chance to fire their first round. As eyes pinned down on their sights, holding a target in the enemy’s ranks, they leaned forward and kept a finger over their trigger guards. In silence, they awaited their time to come when at the edge of their vision, they saw the sword of the lieutenant general swing down. Time slowed and it became an irregular construct. Upon the blade reaching a point of stop, everyone vied for first blood.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSqLOQdu1hW
“Fire at will!” Žižka commanded.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXhUM9ZBgmO
Pulled, their triggers submerged their locks. The spring propelled the needle of the hammer and pierced the throat of the cartridge, igniting the powder in its back and thrusting outward a lead bullet that detached and barreled. From powder to ember, smoke flourished and crackled. The mess of the volley were like streams diverging, without a single, disciplined direction, the rounds disappeared into the haze that was born, polluting no man’s land and veiling the faces of the enemy that they sought to fell. Yet, the troops were persistent and stubborn in their belief that their own round had met a favorable end, they have been blinded by themselves. Drawing back their bolts, many loaded their second cartridges as it became a race between comrades to clear their ammunition stocks. Lacking a sense of discipline, the regiments’ volleys became a show of fireworks of fleeting lead and not much else. It took a row of flashes to shake them from their frenzy as waves of rounds mowed them down, rank by rank. The tides shot through like the swing of a glaive that cut into the soldiers ahead felled over by the second. Reinforcements rushed in to fill the lines, believing that the same was happening to those across the strait. Confidence ran high even when the ranks began to break from shape. The formation of the army faltered and was slowly drained of manpower. Ammunition was wastefully exhausted as it did not seem that the Confederates would ever relent their strength. Volleys ripped into the Aelon without fault, shooting by Žižka who kept steady. Unleashing his eifer that rocked the world and shook the earth, his rounds punched holes in the smog that let him peer through, seeing his foes evaporated into red mist.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoajqw7EwtW
The battlefield had turned into an unknown when the clouds thickened and the fog was at its densest. A haze had formed the walls to an oven that cooked all who continued to fire over the pouring blood. As holes bore into their bodies and tore awide punctures that leaked life, comrades dropped. Not knowing how to better their battle, they began a maddened round of rapid fire, trying to make up for their losses, but that hope was too smothered by the trained enemy. Besides a lancer, a boy was struck in his shoulder with a force that punched him backward to tip and fall over. Holding his wound, afraid and his eyes begging for help, he was seen by Arminius who unhesitantly lowered his rifle and reached down to help. But a hand held him back.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbgylUfpQfV
“Sekiya,” Calling him by his other name, his friend’s tone was more serious than usual. “Don’t.” Colt tried to compose him behind.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZy1t0MPqRt
Turning back, Colt let go as Arminius slowly withdrew himself and retreated to his post in regret. Gunfire soon slowed as the twenty rounds of each soldier was hastily depleted. There were many wasted, soiled, and wetted when the carrier fell, and no more was the skirmish, the second stage of the battle came to a close. Looking over his shoulder, his troops still stood, soaking up bullets like a sponge in the sea as their enemy spewed fire in their continuous assault.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK9RMeHHuKu
Knowing without action his soldiers could only wait for death, Žižka held up his sword and shouted with a break in his voice, “Hold!”48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡziUPUhojEn
The last shots of rifles popped and a stillness overcame the final volley. Incidentally, the enemy had seemed to have done the same, perhaps out of respect. The gray fog began to clear and above, the blue skies became tinted with a fire-like orange. A mild wind flowed from the distant hills into the depression of the land. As the officers of the Bohemer enjoyed their safety on high ground, their levies were flushed with pain in sweat and tears. Their strength had been exhausted from simply surviving, from their legs which shook and their arms which stiffened, gathering themselves into formation again, ready to thank the gods to have let them live thus far. But only the dead sees the end of war. Neither side knew what was to follow whilst their generals gazed off into the distance, waiting for the air to clear, through a white visor that had formed since the ceasefire. With their guns pointed, not yet broken of spirit, they readied to receive an order admitting defeat and to withdraw for the day, but the devil laughed and his drums beat again. At a walking pace, the rhythm was accompanied by the blow of a horn that told those who knew of madness.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5lqtNMvvj7
“Fucking brain-rotted fools.” Appalled by their heartless decision, Žižka looked up toward whatever it was that some soldiers had spotted too and called out, withdrawing his hand cannon.48Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXs5eanWuyT
