A Bleaching Tide of Empyrean

The young general fell backwards as his blade bounced harmlessly off of Regina's bare palm. The young man staggered up, and readied his blade. Pain shot through his wounded leg, and the giant gaping bullet hole in his shoulder, but he readied himself for the attack once more.

"Is that all, general? I would have expected a bit more from a lord of the esteemed House Amartan." The long, slender legs of the false goddess clacked along the floor as her gilded boots gently sank into the ground with every step of the way. Her scarlet red hair blew in the wind as her silver and gold armor gleamed off of the sun. A smirk ran across her face.

Thousands of Empyrean pikemen, arquebusiers, and horsemen surrounded the general and the tattered remnants of his army, many of whom were now throwing down their weapons and preparing to surrender. In the far distance, shouts, screams, and arquebus shots still rang throughout the distance, as the Empyrean army continued to mop up the remaining Serians that had not been enveloped. From the corner of his eye, he could see several fleeing Serian gunners gored to death by the charge of the Empyrean cavalry.

Suvilis Amartan stayed his hand - Regina was not known for mercy. Though the battle was lost, there was still a way to bargain his army out of there, at least. He raised his blade once more. If he impressed the false goddess enough, he just might be able to bargain a way out for his men. Or at least, he imagined so, as Regina clearly seemed to be enjoying this.

"What do you have against us? Why do you do this?" Suvilis Amartan shouted, pointing his sword directly at her. The woman did not speak. Though his wounds ached, though his arms screamed for rest, he raised his blade once more. Suvilis charged at Regina once more, but his moves were sluggish now. Less sharp than it had been at the start of the duel - and definitely less sharp than it had been at the start of the battle. He could feel his vision getting blurry. But he saw one thing very clearly - the stolen Blade of Hresvelgr, which the dreaded Regina pulled from it's scabbard, and an ever-so familiar twirl of the blade, like the one he had seen in the manuals. An older, more aggressive fighting style starting in the third stance rather than the modern fifth, but one just as dangerous then as it was now.

Fighting stance, Elyon's charge-riposte. Suvilis Amartan had never been particularly good at dueling improvisation, but what he lacked in dynamism, he had always made up by memorizing and perfecting each move. Every enemy he had faced thus far has been able to perfectly predict when and how they would lose their duel. Nothing had beat his speedy and heavy hitting moves, even if it was technically by the manual. Mustering his spirits, he pushed beyond whatever mental limits he placed upon himself with renewed vigor, and attacked Regina without regard for his own wounds.

Regina easily dodged each swing from the man with a small smirk on her face once more. At this point, she didn't even bother to attack back, and merely watched the bloodied man stumble around himself until she had enough. Against all doctrine, the Sword of Hresvelgr cut upwards to the right, sending the general's blade flying into the dirt. Several Empyrean soldiers in the front rank cheered.

"Lord General Amartan, son of Duke Amartan, grandson of the old Duke Amartan." She raised her blade up, and pointed it at the man. "One hundred and fifty years." The Empyrean soldiers raised their weapons up once more at the long surrendered men, the crackle of the matchlock mechanism upon the firearms of the arquebusiers reverberating across the lines. The remaining men yelled out in horror, some going for their dropped weapons, and others turning to run, but it was futile - thousands of lead balls found their way into the Serian soldiers, and the rest were finished off by the pikes. Amartan charged at Regina in anger, but the dirt protruded itself as it ran, blocking his fist as it came. The ground itself shot up and immobilized Amartan as Regina worked her magic, her face filled with boredom. Some of the Empyrean soldiers cheered once more. "Dayan, order the men to march. The Eastern Legions are no more."

"Yes, my lady! Begin march!" A gruff looking Empyrean general on a horse raised his sword up into the air. 

"No gods above us! Man alone!" The army began to move past Regina and Suvilis, who stood in between the gap between the formations. She grabbed the young general by the throat as the rocks crumpled back into dust. The beautiful woman's armor glistened in the sunlight once more, her red hair flowing in the wind.

"I don't understand-" The man's confusion was cut short as Regina stabbed her sword into his gut. As Suvilis bled out into the soil, the last thing he heard was the march of hundreds of thousands of steel boots, simultaneously forming a cadence as they clacked into the ground.

"You don't need to." As the life faded from his body, Regina threw the body of the being formerly known as Suvilis Amartan down onto the ground. "Three left to go." The Empyrean army marched past their goddess in perfect lockstep formation as she gazed up into the deep sunset, amidst the bloodsoaked fields hazed by gunpowder. 

~~*~~

"Lady Claudia." A cold looking woman sat upon a grand throne before Aeneas, almost bored in her expression as the officer briskly walked up the stairs to the chair. Aeneas knelt down, gripping a piece of parchment. "We have reports that the Empyrean have marched onto the Nacthalan Plains." He paused. "General Suvilis Amartan has...been slain in battle. I've sent out my scouts to locate any of Amartan's surviving soldiers but...it seems all the knights and heavy infantry were slain in battle. What little men managed to escape aren't significant enough to form a cohesive fighting force. I'm sorry, your highness. I think we must accept the fact that Amartan's army was massacred." Aeneas looked up and at Lady Claudia, who seemed utterly uninterested. "Lady Claudia, do you...have any opinion on this?"

"You killed the assassin, Aeneas." Claudia replied, after a long pause. Aeneas bit his lip, his brow furrowing into a glare.

"That I did, your highness." Aeneas snarled. "Some punk attempted to assassinate the prince and princess, so I gave them a proper lesson on etiquette."

"You should beware your language, Aeneas. My patience has it's limits."

"Oh please your highness, isn't insulting one another in the absence of anyone else the basis of our friendship?" Lady Claudia laughed.

"Perhaps." The two laughed alongside each other before a serious look overtook Aeneas's face once more. 

"Your highness, as I was saying before, three of our strongest border legions have been annihilated in battle. Some 20,000 men have been slain. I recommend we formulate a-"

"There shall be no need of that Aeneas." Lady Claudia crossed her legs. "The Serian Empire commands one million soldiers. As long as news of the defeat does not spread, to either our men or our allies, we are safe. Suppress news of the battle. There was no defeat at the Nacthalan Plains, and if there was, it was a minor, pyrrhic victory for the Empyrean." Claudia slammed her hand onto the arm of the chair. "So let it be known, general. Even without our allies, we are fully capable of drowning the Empyrean with bodies."

"Your highness." Aeneas stood up. "I...I cannot simply suppress the news of a fateful battle." He stood up. "Seria fights for the truth. Are you suggesting we lie to our men?"

"If Ordeania finds out about our loss, we may very well find our coalition one member less, and ourselves with one more front to cover. Will you take responsibility for that, my dear friend?"

"No...no your highness." Aeneas closed his eyes, face down. "I...I will suppress the news of the battle." Internally, thousands of curses ran through Aeneas's head, but he knelt before her all the same. "I will carry out your order."

"Good. Because I was considering the fact that your whining was getting far more annoying than my brother's possible vengeance were I to string you up on the castle walls. Now get going." Claudia smirked, as Aeneas looked back up to her.

"One last thing, your highness, but may I not be allowed to have a meeting with the emperor, just one time? I have promised you, I do not intend on a political counsel, I merely wish to see the face of a dear adv-"

"Doctor's orders, Aeneas. The emperor has no need for such frivolities such as meeting you."

"Ten years, your highness. Ten years. Am I not allowed to see my friend after ten years? You make it sound as if he's going to pass on at any moment, and I may as well see him one last time before he goes." Aeneas looked up at her once more, eyes narrowed. "Assuming you haven't been poisoning him over these years."

"Are you saying I've been poisoning my dear brother, Aeneas?" Claudia stood up. "I should have you killed where you stand. You're saying that I, of all people, would be poisoning Elysius? Me? Of all people, me?" Genuine rage entered her voice. "Me? I am do many things Aeneas, but I never hurt my family. If you didn't consistently bring in good results, I would have executed you a long time ago Aeneas." Claudia rubbed her temples. "Think whatever you desire. Just be thankful that Elysius sticks up for you often. And for your own talents, I suppose." Claudia took a deep breath, and sat down.

"So is that a no, then?"

"A son of a commoner such as yourself should be thankful for ever getting to befriend the emperor. Are you and that peasant girl not satisfied with that? Begone. I have no more wish to see of you today. And keep that girl's spawn as far from the throne as possible. I consider them not my kin."

"No need to worry your highness, I never intend on allowing them to be shackled to the throne like my poor friend." Aeneas began to leave, but as he did, he turned around once more. "Oh, and one more thing Lady Claudia, I request you not send any more assassins to the children of my dear friend."

"Don't worry, my general, I won't. I've changed my mind. I would tire of having to put up with your eternal bickering if I did." She leaned in a bit closer. "Just promise to keep them as far from the throne as possible, will you?"

"Yes, your highness." Aeneas said with a bow. As he left the room, he began to mutter to himself. "Heavens forbid those children get upon that godforsaken chair."