As Vance and Ami sat up, they both looked at their respective armies, each one standing ready for a battle. Neither side seemed eager for it. Even Kendirewen, despite its minor victories, were fearful their victories would swiftly turn into losses. Vance saw it in their eyes. Even from where he sat, he could see none of his soldiers wanted to see another battle. Not this soon.

Peering over his shoulder, he watched as Ami, who seemed nothing but smiles and laugher, had gone silent.

"You know this won't prevent a battle, right?" Ami stated.

Vance frowned, "I know..." he murmured.

"I--" Before Ami could get another word out, a single familiar individual emerged from behind the safety of the Askal line, spewing out curses towards the samurai.

"How dare you lose! Filthy peasants! This is why I warned the Emirs not to trust command to garbage." He hissed, his tone seething with malice.

The target, none other than Ami, stood slackjawed at the sudden bombardment of insults he was getting cast his way.

"Whoa! Hey, calm down a minute Garett!" Ami started, slowly pushing himself to his feet.

Vance twisted around, straightening up as he looked over at the individual, and almost immediately, his mood turned foul. It was the former lord of Luna. It seemed he was intent upon keeping his word. Slowly, he began to grit his teeth, trying desperately to stay calm, fearing his rage might boil over.

Ami tried to return to his troops, hoping to calm down the traitorous lord, but as he did, what came next made him freeze.

"Soldiers! I'm assuming command! That man there is a traitor and a failure! He lost on purpose, I'm sure of it!" The noble bellowed.

Ami was stunned and shook his head, trying to figure out if what was happening was real or not.

"What? You can't just--"

"Can't what?! Filthy cur! Soldiers, prepare to fire on the traitor!" He shouted.

Ami looked at his men and saw that many looked confused, some frightened at the prospect of firing on their greatest warrior. Even Vance could scarcely believe his eyes.

"How's he able to get away with this?" Vance thought to himself.

Ami shared the thought, looking to his soldiers to ignore the order, but saw the other officers push forward, barking out the same line as the Garett. There was no going back for him now. He had lost everything in that single moment as the first line raised their muskets, promptly cocking their wheel locks to fire.

Vance rushed forward, grabbing the scruff of haori, pulling him towards himself, "Let's go! You'll die if you stay here." Vance shouted.

Tugging the samurai back towards his lines, he used his free hand to wave over Magic, who came charging towards him at high speed. Ami was at a loss for words, unable to think of anything, as Vance hoisted him up and tossed him onto Magic's back. Grabbing each of their swords, Vance threw himself onto his Wyvern's back in time to avoid a concentrated volley.

As the enemy line erupted as one, Vance looked back, only for a moment, and noted how the ground near where they had stood was torn apart by dozens of lead balls. It seemed a pitched battle would be fought this day, whether anyone wanted one or not.

Immediately after they reached the safety of his soldiers, Vance hopped off Magic, rushing towards Estrid. She was already issuing orders to the other Regimental commanders, giving them the orders Vance would.

"Estrid!" He called out, "I want the Marines moved up. Have them take up skirmisher positions in front of the enemy. If possible, I want to try and weaken Askal's resolve further." He said.

Estrid looked down and over at Vance, nodding in response, "Already on it. Had them gather together the skirmisher company to lead the others into taking potshots as the enemy advances."

"Good, have them target the officers though. If we take them out, they're likely to break and run."

"What makes you so sure they will?" Estrid queried.

At that, Vance nodded back to Magic, and the Japanese man who lay silent on his back, still in shock, "That's why."

Estrid shrugged, still not convinced, but relented, "You've got us this far; what's one more gamble to our list of wins, hmm?"

Vance smirked, "All part of the game, Demoulin."

As the two officers went their separate ways, Vance made his way back to Magic to help Ami off his back and rest him on a nearby gnoll. "Sergeant! I want you and a squad to take this man back with Magic here. Keep him safe." Vance ordered as he waved over a nearby infantry sergeant.

"Sir?"

"Just-- trust me. He's on our side." He paused, peering over his shoulder, "or will be." He mumbled.

Not bothering to ask anything further, the sergeant turned about, "You four, on me! Let's get his oaf behind the lines!" the man barked.

Watching the five carry off Ami, followed closely by the Wyvern, Vance looked back towards the Askalian army that came marching down the grassy field.

"Let's hope this works." He mumbled.

Jogging up behind his Dragon Marines, who emerged from behind the front columns, Vance grabbed an offered Luna Rifle from the Sergeant Major.

"You manage to pull this off, sir, and you'll be a god's damned hero back home!" The NCO suggested.

He didn't respond to the assumption-- he couldn't. Instead, Vance took on the look of silent determination as he moved up at the head of his Marines. Taking a knelt position like the others, Vance took a moment to check the rifle for any defects. After a quick look, he found none and looked towards the Sergeant Major who knelt beside him.

"Hope you don't mind sharing your ammo."

"Only if you ask nicely."

"A cask of beer if we win."

"Now you're just trying to get to my heartstrings, sir."

Both men laughed as the ammo box was placed between them. Digging through the box, Vance held four paper cartridges between each of his gloved fingers, slipping the first round into the chamber of his Luna Rifle before locking it in with the bolt. Round loaded, he rested the other four neatly into the sash across his cuirass before bringing his rifle to bear, peering through the iron sights. His mind cleared of all thoughts and worries. Taking steady aim, he counted the seconds, his finger hovered over the trigger guard, inching closer and closer until finally, he began to squeeze. The rifle kicked back as the rune ignited the powder, spewing forth hot lead to the leading element of the nearest Askalian column of line—a puff of pink in the distance.

"One." Vance counted softly under his breath, swiftly loading the second found into the chamber.

Marines began to pick their targets all around him, each popping off shot after shot in quick succession while the enemy continued their suicidal march forward. Not paying much attention to the shots, Vance blocked out all noise as he steadied his aim for another kill.

Holding his breath, Vance again counted the seconds, his hands steady and calm as he aimed downwind. Another shot rang out; another officer crumpled to the ground in a heap. Vance straightened his back as he popped pulled the bolt back, his fingers easily sliding in the third round.

"Two..." He mumbled again, this time surveying the enemy line.

He could see the signs. The enemy was breaking, and already some were starting to pause, looking afraid, as junior officers and veteran NCO's rushed forward to try and take charge. Easy targets for his Marines. More veterans and young orc men died, slumping over as the light faded from their eyes.

Each shot hit a man. Every miss was still a kill. Not one of the Marines failed to down target after target. Four hundred men and women made quick and easy work of the enemy formation. It was too easy. It was unfair. Vance lowered his rifle, not bothering to fire his third shot as he watched the Askalians pause, fear evident now across the ranks, with some breaking formation to flee. Hundreds started to follow in suit, leaving their regiments for the safety of the marshlands. Yet still, some persisted.

Turning to the sergeant major, "Give the order to fall back."

The Senior NCO nodded, snapping over to the Captain's, giving them the order, who in turned relaying said orders to their junior officers, and they in turn to their own NCO's. Within a minute, the Marines began to make their way back behind the front columns.

Vance slipped past the gap in the formation, rushing to the rear to signal over one of the runners.

"Yes, sir?" The woman asked.

"Give the order for the cavalry to advance up the flanks and begin circling around the enemy. They should be too focused on us to notice." Vance relayed.

The runner promptly jotted down the orders, giving a firm nod to indicate they had it all, "Got it!"

"Good, get to it then."

Twisting on the ball of his heel, Vance rushed back at the head of his army, his eyes scanning the enemy line for any weak points. Three points immediately stood out to him. The rear was exposed. The enemy hadn't any artillery to cover their retreat, as they had lost a majority of it back at the previous battle, and there was no cavalry to protect the flanks, as they too had been slain almost to a man in the Battle of Myths. He made the right call in sending the cavalry to sweep around to the rear, as the enemy was already in a panicked state. An attack at the rear would break them entirely.

"Good," Vance muttered to himself, rifle gripped tightly in his hands.

As the enemy began to close the distance, the Kendirewen line infantry started to erupt in calls to make ready. The sound of thousands of muskets being cocked and primed echoed out across the open plain. Each had already loaded a round into their rifles after forming a line-- ready for the battle to come. The enemy meanwhile continued to march, undeterred by the sound. The Dragon Marines continued to fire off shots from behind the line infantry, each standing on boxes given to them by the artillery that was still attempting to load the first iron balls.

Vance fired off the last two rounds he had on him, killing two standard-bearers, who dropped the regimental colours into the mud. Each of his shots was designed to demoralise the enemy further. Yet still, they marched on. Spurred onward by Garett, who had managed to avoid being killed and targeted by sniper fire by hiding behind his men, sometimes even going so far as to use them as meatshields when a round came snapping past his head. Yet, despite his cowardly means of protection, his presence alone was somehow enough to keep the army moving forward. It was as though they were brainwashed, overcome with some strange magic that compelled them to certain death.

Vance felt no magic though to explain the phenomenon. A question he'd likely have to ask Ami once this was all over. The Askalian's were now at a disadvantage. No artillery, cavalry, and no significant leadership besides a handful of officers hid behind their soldiers. It made no sense to him how they could still think it possible to win this battle-- Not anymore. Nonetheless, they came.

The calls for the army to aim were cried out across the army, and lines of men and women obeyed as they levelled polished barrels at a closing enemy. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the two sides came to clash.

"Fire!"

The order rang out, and the entire Kendirewen line erupted in smoke and fire as thousands of muskets cracked as one.

"First rank, kneel!"

The second rank fired as the first knelt. The order was repeated until each of the four-line deep columns finished firing. By then, the first and second lines had finished loading and were ready to unleash another volley. Hundreds of orcs fell, their screams and cries heard in the small lull between shots. Hundreds of men died in three minutes, but they did not break.

Stopping ahead of them, the Askalians could finally return fire. Vance's eyes went wide; he twisted around, noting how many of the Kendirewen officers had given the order to fire at will, hoping to break the enemy before they had the chance to open upon them. No such luck. The enemy brought their muskets to bear and unleashed a salvo of fire down upon the front ranks of the Kendirewen line infantry. Hundreds of men and women crumbled and slumped forward, some dead, others clutching open wounds. Vance himself would've been hit were it not for his protective cuirass that easily deflected two metal balls away.

He felt a biting pain course through his chest, though, telling him there was enough force behind the hits to leave a nasty bruise. Not wanting to dwell on the pain, he shifted his attention to the enemy who swiftly affixed bayonets. Eyes widening in disbelief as he witnessed the sight.

"They're fucking crazy!" Shouted one.

"The hell?! They're going to charge us?!" Sounded off another.

Murmurs began to pass through the army but were swiftly silenced by the order to fix bayonets. Vance walked forward, turning back only to toss the empty rifle back to his Marines. Drawing his sabre, he felt a shiver run down the length of his spine as he knew what was about to come next.

"Charge!"

The order cried out from Garett, and the thousands the remained surged forward.

"Murder them!" Bellowed a Colonel who charged forward, closely followed by his own regiment.

The entire Kendirewen army soon followed into a headlong crash. Vance rushed forward ahead of his soldiers.

Surging forward, Vance slapped four-bladed points aside as he slammed into the massed body of soldiers, his superhuman strength sending him tearing through the Askalian formation.

Swinging and heaving his blade around, Vance cleaved soldier after soldier down into bloody heaps upon the field, both hands gripping the hilt tightly. The blade swelled with power as Vance carved a bloody path through the enemy, surging through the enemy formation. Man after man fell upon him like waves upon rocks. Bellowing out a cry as he slashed through each attacker that came his way until finally, he emerged the other end covered head to toe in blood.

"You!" He called out, levelling his sabre towards Garett, whose face went pale at the ghastly sight, "I'll fucking murder you!" Vance roared.

Garett began to shake visibly, his eyes going wide as Vance stomped forward. Two men peeled off, rushing Vance from behind. Swinging around in time, Vance barely parried the jabs, but it was just enough time to give Garett the opening he sought as he immediately charged forward to take a swing at the Marine's exposed back. But, instead of cutting through the cuirass, his blade harmlessly bounced off. Vance peered back, his eyes filled with malicious murder.

Focusing on the two men before him, he swung his sabre 'round, cleaving off the heads of both men in a single fluid motion. Distraction dealt with, Vance twisted around towards Garett, who started to backpedal, only to trip on one of the dead soldiers. Vance was soon upon him, and with a single downward thrust, the heavily tipped sabre tore through Garett's chest, emerging through his back.

"Ah!" Garett looked down at the opening and gasped his last breath.

Vance wasn't done with the buffoon, though, as he crouched down, cutting the traitorous nobles head clean off, hoisting it up into the air for all Askalian soldiers to see.

"He's dead! Surrender!" He bellowed with tremendous zeal and force that it efficiently carried over the screams of pitched melee.

Thousands turned their heads on a swivel and saw the grisly sight of a blood-soaked Vance holding the head of Garett high into the air. The response was immediate as the white-uniformed, now bloodied and brown army threw down their weapons in surrender; their courage failed. Victory had been robbed from them yet again. Askalian had been defeated, utterly. As Vance stood alone atop a pile of bodies, he watched as his army erupted into cheers. Once more, they began to cheer and cry out triumphantly, but this time, a new cheered rang out across the masses, this one for Vance.