Ignatius was with one of the bombardment squadrons that had done exemplary work during the conflict’s early stages.
Their power was impressive: basically 60% of all Yano’s Gold-rank fire and wind tamers were distributed among these specialized squadrons.
Although there were fewer than 100 Gold ranks, and most of the more than 5,000 bombardment squadron participants (in this defense war) were Silver 3, the coordination with them had been masterful.
Ignatius had the honor of personally knowing the vast majority of the strongest, having seen at least a third during their years at the academy. Many of them were names that would appear in history books, masters whose techniques were studied in advanced courses, and perhaps, without knowing it, today they had contributed new details that Ignatius would add to the curricula.
His academy had to maintain itself above the schools of the dusty hag and the wet jester...
The bridge bombardment had been constant and had perfectly stopped the enemy advance until Venmont’s false dragon’s unfortunate appearance.
Everything had changed there.
Many front-line soldiers had been eliminated in minutes, forcing everyone to retreat in what quickly became a chaotic withdrawal.
After losing organization due to terror inspired by Venmont’s deadly storms and poison attacks, Maximilian’s consequent lashing with his aerial troops had mercilessly devastated retreating forces.
The casualties had been devastating.
But when the situation had dramatically reversed and history’s most powerful king had destroyed the bridge in a single epic movement, Maximilian and his troops had fled at a speed that only their maximum cowardice could provide.
The 3,000 Yino soldiers who were now trapped on this side of the abyss, without a bridge to return, raised their hands in surrender before the gaze of Yano’s army reorganizing after the disastrous and disorderly retreat. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
The difficult thing for everyone was containing the thirst for immediate revenge.
Fury over those fallen in Venmont’s attack and Maximilian’s humiliating pursuit boiled in every surviving soldier. The poor trapped Silver-rank bastards, ex Yino frontline, knew perfectly they had no chance now that they couldn’t escape back, and the rage of those returning after the dishonorable retreat was about to explode in uncontrolled violence.
Soldiers who had watched friends die, who had been forced to flee in terror, now faced the opportunity for payback against almost helpless enemies.
So it exploded.
The first attacks began from the rear: fire spears, wind projectiles, techniques seeking immediate revenge.
But what seemed would end in a massacre was stopped by the King himself.
Dragarion descended from the sky like a brilliant and just judge, positioning himself directly over the trapped soldiers. With movements that seemed casual, he deflected all vengeful attacks toward the abyss, where they dispersed harmlessly in darkness.
The vengeful force that had begun launching stopped instantly.
Everyone fell into absolute silence, awe filling their hearts seeing the powerful sovereign in direct action.
The 3,000 prisoners looked into the distance, to the other side of the destroyed bridge, where Yino troops retreated and disappeared in the distance like fleeing from a natural disaster.
They didn’t want to look at the powerful sovereign who was about to decide their fate, but they no longer had any other option. Watching their allies disappear made them clearly understand their destiny.
For the moment, battle had completely stopped and they had been left alone, abandoned by their own allied forces... the forces for whom they had risked their lives, trying to open a way to let them cross the bridge.
Was it worth it? They asked themselves.
It began with a single soldier.
Perhaps he was frustrated by betrayal, too frightened, or too impressed to remember which kingdom he nominally served. He knelt on rocky ground, then lowered his head until touching earth in complete submission.
Little by little, like a silent wave, all soldiers did the same.
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