(A/N: Look Like I'm Returning Back huh?)
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Third person POV
The Battle of Süd Mariaburg, the Defence of Monarchist Loyalist Forces in the South East Urus.
As the air crackled with a tension thicker than the morning mist clinging to the rolling hills.
As on one side, a meticulously organized line of French soldiers mixed with the Urus Demi-Human in crisp blue uniforms.
As General Dubois. An grizzled Middle Age Man with a Napoleon-esque bicorne hat perched atop his head, surveyed the scene with a practiced eye.
His men, a mix of seasoned veterans and eager conscripts from Demi-Human, stood in formation – squares of infantry flanked by battalions armed with gleaming brass cannons.
This was one of the Elite Urus Army in miniature, drilled in the art of precision firepower and coordinated maneuvers that is also the Mixed of the Earth Forces and the new Training Demi-Human Urus Unit emerging.
Facing them, a chaotic tide of humanity. A motley crew of knights in mismatched plate armor, their banners a kaleidoscope of heraldic beasts, jostled with levied peasants, Mercenary Band wielding crude pikes, longbows and Bow.
Lord Hemlock's Military Forces, a force fueled by not but Greed, Coward and Traitor to the Lüneburg Royal Crown and the Country.
A lone trebuchet stood precariously at the back, its crew of sweating laborers preparing a flaming projectile.
As the Lord Hemlock squinted across the rolling fields, the crisp morning air stealing the breath from his lungs. His weathered face, etched with the harsh lines of a life spent in battle, creased further in suspicion.
"Are those truly the Urus forces?"
He rumbled to his most trusted lieutenant, a young knight named Aric.
"It is, my Lord,"
Aric replied, his voice laced with a hint of trepidation.
"Their banners, Uniform, witchcraft weapons match the reports from our last remaining survival scouts. – there's no mistaking it."
Hemlock stroked his beard, his calloused fingers snagging on a stray braid while his Feline Ear bit twich then said
"These are the same lot who routed the Phinry Kriste forces at Wimborne, aren't they? And those poor sods at Dunwich, too?"
Aric nodded grimly as bit trembling.
"So the rumors say, my Lord. Seems these Urus Loyalist do something behind the Scene in East, and I think that Brat is somehow or any Big Noble have involvement into that Change of Urus Forces..."
As Hemlock leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as Suspect said
"There's something... different about their weapons. I see strange glinting off their Long Stick, not the usual Sword or Crossbow. And those formations... tighter than a squire's britches after a flagon of ale but why they need that for?"
Aric whistled, a low, surprised sound.
"This civil war must be dragging on longer than anyone anticipated, my Lord. For their forces to be this Organizations... it speaks of a desperation born from only few months of conflict with limited on Resources as Military Forces, not the usual arrogance of these Loyalist Monarchists."
Hemlock chuckled, a dry rasp that echoed across the silent ranks.
"Arrogance or not, Aric, one thing's for certain – these Monarchist are here for a fight. And by the blessings of the Old Gods, so are we!"
YOU ARE READING
By our blood, magic and gunpowder...
FanfictionHans was an ordinary German who died in the old world and was reincarnated into the new world as the eldest son of the royal family of a Kingdom. He now has to take on a new responsibility in his new life to ensure the survival of his country and pe...
