513 Flowers

Within the festering cesspit of a chaotic-melee, where blood, bones and limbs were covering the grounds faster than they could be removed to create the necessary space for efficient swordsmanship. Clam's beating heart, fuelled by only adrenaline and the very innate desire to survive, dipped, slid and severed the dekans as his years of training, honing and improving his body and swordsmanship came clutch. Although, the very same couldn't be said about his equipment, which by now were mostly in shambles as the belts were torn, the chainmail ripped, and the plates forcefully taken by abilities foreign to him.

Within his hands were his [Edwin's Sword] and [Edwin's Shield]

being the only two items he had to his possession that had been blessed with mana, they had mostly survived the sheer onslaught and high-demand of war. Catching a short moment of respite, he took in his new surroundings to find the men he had marched into battle with tired, gasping for air, and equally inadequate in terms of their steel-armour, that weren't afforded the luxury of mana.

Perhaps, their saving grace was the knight Oliver, who was destroying the unevolved dekan-knights with a single swing of his mace, crushing heads and bones as he also swung a sword in the freehand.

[Order Swing] had been ramped up to its maximum potential of accumulated damage, thus the young-knight who once trained under Clam and Gary was now walking around like a juggernaut destroying the weapons of his enemies whilst equally swiping their lives.

Although weakened, as he didn't have the luxury of [Half a Soul] to heal him, if he were to battle alongside his twin, the man confidently trusted his muscle-memory as [Insurance] remained available.

Seeing the younger man out perform him, both envy and relief filled Gary as he endeavoured to fight closer to the man, ensuring his chances of survival were higher than without.

A second wave of fresh bodies charged through the gates, breathing another air of invigoration into the life of the fore, as knights from a dozen counts, viscounts and barons charged in to support the men of Trichia and Lumix. 

Being knights from the most prosperous territories, Gary, Oliver and the other man from the two duchies quickly chugged down their first shot of HP and SP potions, taking a pause as they allowed their lungs to take in the much needed air to fuel their bodies. Flushing out the carbon dioxide that was slowly poisoning their bodies, something that was only possible from the months of training they put themselves through with sheer-willpower, all in order to train their carbon dioxide tolerance, which allowed them to better handle the body's ability to handle a temporary imbalance of CO2 and oxygen that would be fatal to others.

Something only the gifted, the talented and blessed with mana didn't have to worry about. As they could simply empower their organs, specifically their lungs, to better filter and absorb the oxygen needed to fuel their bodies.

..

As battle reports steadily made its way to Rosemi and her commanders, her eyes and ears, as well as being her advisors. Hundreds of fresh arrivals who were constantly being transported in upon wagons and horses were quickly given the quick rundown of their current battle status-quo. Gifted with only chest-plate armour and given the option between sword or spear, the men who weren't lucky enough to serve noble houses who could equip them, or to purchase gear themselves, were quickly ushered into battle lines as their hearts beat like the drums above.

One woodcutter, who had quite the muscular body from eating well and naturally building his muscles from cutting and carrying wood, nervously gripped his spear as he watched dozens of injured humans and elves carried out, as the line of blood that stained the ground thickened with each body.

A single sniff, and he could tell that the farmers who were standing in line with him had let their bladders loose, and whilst he didn't blame them for having a weak heart, he could only hope that they at the very least had the balls to fight. At the end of the day, he didn't enlist for glory, for riches or honour, he marched himself away from Morrisen, from the comforts of his home to ensure the monstrosity of the rumoured dekans would never reach his wife and children.

With bittersweet memories replaying within his mind, he steeled his heart as he controlled his breathing, aligning the beating of his heart along with the beating of the war-drums above. Finding it infinitely better, as he almost believed himself invincible, as if blessed by the heavens.

Whatever crap the priests, the fathers and nuns were spouting at that newly formed unit, he ignored as he made his own prayers to Loha. Only for the rising and screeching of another high-pitched trumpet to signal their advance.

Being prodded from behind, the humans marched through the multiple sets of gates as a platoon of highly-trained knights attached themselves to their squad. There to lead and to guide, and to further relay orders if required.

"Remember lads! Pointy end goes into the blue-skinned mother fuckers!" Shouted the captain who unsheathed his blade in preparation.

"Easier said than done captain obvious!" Shouted a man who was braver than most, a militiaman who had experienced plenty of combat, albeit against lesser foes like vargs and imps.

And although no one laughed, outside of the trained-knights, the woodcutter felt better about his current predicament. As he realized he was no longer surrounded by bedwetters and cowards, but men who could laugh in the face of death, men who were worth fighting with, and dying for.

"FOR LOHA! GODDESS WILLS IT! CHARRRRGE!!"

The final gate opened up to reveal the bloodshed and carnage, the desperation and feral roaring of men and beasts. A fireball flew overhead, glazing the humans with its intense heat before crashing and erupting within the flanks of blue. With such an entrance que, the knights charged in and assaulted the dazed dekans.

...

Rosemi, who was increasingly nervous, worried about her father, finally caught a glimpse of the man. However, rather than reassure her of his safety, she almost gasped in shock as the man readied his horse among 4,000 heavily-clad knights and equally armoured-cavalry, that were now literal highly-mobile and agile tanks.

The loyal-companions of humanity, the mighty-war horses that weighed 1,700lb/771kg in addition to the heavy-knights that rode upon them who pointed their spears and lances forward neighed as they hovered over the artificial cliff the humans had crafted out of the massive-mountains.

Hidden from the enemies, Duke Jeffrey de Lumix met his darling Rose's eyes as she pleaded against his action with nothing but the tears within her eyes.

"Long may Her Majesty live! Goddess bless her! For the kingdom! For glory! FOR THE ROSE!!" Jeffrey yelled at the top of his lungs, almost to the point of losing his voice as he ushered his heavyweight mighty-steed down the slope and into the flanks of the dekans.

""FOR THE ROSE!!"" Echoed and repeated the loyal knights that had willingly volunteered for such glory and honour, to ensure their lord and duke didn't advance upon such a suicide-mission alone.

...

Rosemi de Lumix gasped in fright and horror, as she lost sight of her father along with his knights as they entered into the sea of blue.

A gentle palm pushed her forward, unyielding as it supported her from falling back. 

"Be strong my little flower~" Duchess Alyssa de Lumix whispered into her daughter's ears. Supporting her lone-surviving daughter from disgracing herself in front of the knights, generals and nobles that observed the battle-lines with them. Or more importantly, to ensure the young-woman didn't disgrace her lineage in front of history.

kophzi

Also, horse weight information is taken from Wikipedia.