VI
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Arc VI Chapter 24
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Anno Imperii 05.08.1936
Ignoring the rest of the small detachment, Aurora continued her course, Instead, she pushed forwards, ever forwards, her eyes only fixed on her mission. The attack must continue. The initiative and momentum must be maintained. Secondary objectives were not specified. The destruction of the enemy forces was not her priority. It was thus judged tactically unsound to be bogged down longer than strictly necessary. Not to mention, she was close. The flag was almost within reach.
Aurora glanced up, her purple eyes identifying her target. For many, it was just a piece of cloth, for others it was much more than a simple flag. A black eagle. A black cross on white ground, with a massive silver eagle throning on top. It was the regimental flag, the standard of the 1st Guard Regiment.
A content smirk crossed Aurora’s ruby lips. Victory was within her grasp. It was easy. Just another mere 100 metres. And a few pesky mages to take care of. They were already readying their spells, their arrays constructed, the chants reverberating. They were prepared to strike her with the hammer of the Gods. As Father would say, they were welcome to try.
Their arrays activated. Dozens and hundreds of magic circles ignited in unison. They were certainly not beggars. The spells unleashed their might, the barrage turning the entire plain into a shooting range. The spells fell like rain, born from the ancient arts of magic. Projectiles whizzed past her, impacting around her in a blaze of glory and mana.
The ground erupted in a cascade of explosions, as if the ancient spirits of old had risen from their deep slumber to punish the children of men for their hubris. The air thick and heavy, laden with residual mana and aether. Craters left and right, everywhere, soil, earth, dust, dirt sent flying, not a single stone left unturned. Spells. Projectiles. Beams. Lances. Detonations. Explosions. Every inch was plastered with enough firepower to pulverise her and her descendants with her. Fire. Ice. Lightning. Wind. Earth. Water. Darkness. Light. All elements. It was the entire repertoire. The bombardment was relentless, ferocious. It was one of the few times that her small stature proved advantageous. It made her a difficult target.
Fire. Blistering flames. Searing heat. The ground was scorched, blackened beyond recognition. The world had turned into a burning inferno of embers and ash. Ice. Frigid. Cold. Frozen. Glacial. Solid. The cold gnawed on the land. Spikes, shards of ice sliced through the air, conjured out of nowhere and their numbers seemingly infinite.
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Lightning. Electricity. Currents. Electrons. Aether. Arcs of electricity discharged, the ionised air charged to the brim with mana. Spears, bolts of lightning, struck the smouldered ground. Wind. Ferocious. Violent. The winds howled. Vortexes of compressed air shot across the battlefield, their gales deadly, vicious, sharper than steel.
Earth. Unyielding. Crushing. Blunt. Compact. Rock and stone sharpened, polished to perfection. Splinters, fragments. Shards, chips, pieces, bits cut through the air like shrapnel. Water. Smooth. Shifting. Adaptive. Treacherous. A deluge followed. Masses of water came crashing down on her in a futile attempt to delay her.
Light. Brilliant. Blinding. Gleaming. Piercing. Merciless. Arrogant and proud. Just and pretentious. Rays, beams, and bursts of light shot forth, consuming everything in their way. The searing light burned away all earthly illusions, exterminating those who stood against it.
Darkness. Oppressive. Silent. Tenebrous. Suffocating. Cold. Voracious. Eroding. Corroding. Destructive. Spears and lances of darkness saturated the air, devouring all life. Yet its presence did not unsettle her. She did not fear the darkness. She did not feat what lurked beneath, veiled in shadows. Quite the contrary. It was her element. As if it would ever betray its true mistress.
Uncaring of the incoming fire, Aurora accelerated, continuing her advance. Their bombardment intensified the more she closed the distance. Her adversaries would not budge. At least, not voluntarily. Their fire grew in strength and potency, which was to be expected. Volley after volley of spells rained down on her, hoping to block her way. With little success. Their barrage proved ineffectual.
She was a nimble target. Quick and light on her feet. Not to mention heavily armoured. Her shielding deflected the incoming spells, their projectiles glancing off her shields. They covered her advance. Even on the last meters.
Aurora reached her objective, the flag right before her, planted atop a platform, waving in the wind. Only a few grumpy mages separated her from victory. The nobles readied their weapons, prepared to fight to the utmost, down to the last spell. They were determined to stand their ground. As long as necessary.
Because reinforcements were about to arrive. It was only a matter of time. The Guard had well understood the gravity of the situation. They had scrambled together all available forces. Their men were rushing in on her position, not even bothering to mask their signatures. Time was thus a limited commodity in short supply. It was time to get creative.
Aurora gripped her sword in response, her purple mana coursing through her steel. Her adversaries took her bait only too willingly. They thought she was about to engage. They miscalculated. It was a feint.
Her adversary shifted his stance. The mage brandished his blade, his feet planted firmly on the ground, prepared to counter her strike. It was the correct response. Usually. It was what she had hoped for. His stance left the man exposed.
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Aurora braked before contact, allowing her body to fall, her legs stretched out, her shoulders shifted sidewards. Her feint paid off. Her action took her adversary by surprise. His sword parried a strike that never was. Her whole body slid across the ground, right through the man’s legs, before resuming her sprint. Their last line of defence was broken.
Her hand reached for the grand prize, and Aurora claimed what was rightfully hers. Her hand gripped the cold metal of the pole, making her forget all the fatigue, all the stress, all the nervousness, all the adrenaline. It was over. Victory was hers.
Aurora von Schwarz
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