[Narrator POV:]

Sat atop the sturdy walls of the city, the captain of the guard, Richard watches on as a measly force of around two hundred men marches forwards from the encampment, with a single figure clad in golden armor standing at the front. Her red hair flows in the wind like a crimson flame, licking through the air. Her aura, even from this distance sends a shiver down the young captain’s spine. She casually walks ahead of the small group, seemingly unbothered by the hundreds of bows, tens of ballistas, and dozens of spells primed and aimed at her.

She looks directly into the captains eyes and speaks with a voice that shakes the earth, and echoes through the mountains behind the city,

“I am Rosanna Pultovia. Sixth circle mage of the Kingdom of Gaera. I have come to make an offer.”

She raises up her finger, conjuring up a small flame no bigger than a candle wick before continuing,

“Surrender immediately, lay down your arms, and renounce the empire. Or…”

She points forwards, causing the small wick of flame to burst forth like a laser, slamming into the wall before anybody can react. An explosion rocks the ground around the city as a section of the mighty wall of Galeford begins to bow outwards, just barely kept together by the internal beams of iron. The impact leaves a crater in the center that punches nearly five feet deep.

“Watch as your walls crumble beneath your feet.”

Rosanna stands, watching as the guardsmen and mages all tremble, yet hold their ground. She then smirks, looking down at the ground for a second, then back up at the group,

“Very well then. We shall begin our attack in thirty minutes. Prepare yourselves. Ah, so long as the civilians of the city do not bring up arms against us, we shall spare them the blade.”

She stares at each of the defenders on the wall for a second each, making note of their wills to fight. They’re a younger force, with a few aged veterans with them. The difference between them is clear, even through closed face helms. Younger guards quiver as she looks at them, while the veterans meet her icy gaze with their own, which she respects. With a few more words,

“A word of advice, do not mistake stupidity for courage. There is a fine line between the two. You have thirty minutes.”

Rosanna turns around and walks back towards her lines. As she’s about halfway to them, she hears someone yell out behind her,

“LOOSE!”

She smirks as she sees the warriors in front of her nearly jump to protect her. As the arrows shoot out from the merlons of the wall, the archers watch on in confusion and horror as the arrows stop in mid-air, and flip around before shooting back to where they came from, each arrow flying back and cutting the string of each bow.

Rosie looks over her right shoulder, directly at captain Richard before saying,

“Seems you chose stupidity.”

She’s about to turn around, when she feels a large movement of aura to her left. This surge of green energy barrels forth like a laser, aiming straight for her head. Right as it’s about to impact, Rosie lifts her hand as a loud cracking noise rips through the air. The pressure from the attack kicks up dust around her, obscuring her silhouette.

A gust of wind suddenly kicks up, blowing away the dust. Standing with an arrow clasped in a barrier-covered hand, is Rosie, untouched by the sudden attack. Her eyes are laser focused on the soldier who attacked her, finding an older woman wearing a light chest plate and a kettle-type helm.

The woman watches on with cold eyes and reaches back to grab another arrow. Before she can, however, Rosie’s voice rings out once more,

“It seems I overestimated this city’s defenders.”

The arrow in her hand suddenly shoots back with a clap as it breaks the sound barrier. In a split second, it rips through the aura knight’s skull and continues on, crashing into a mountain in the distance and kicking up a large amount of debris. The surrounding guards, even the veterans, jolt as Rosie’s voice rings through their heads in a low, menacing tone.

“Ten. Minutes.”

As she turns back, several younger guardsmen simply drop their weapons and run away, earning the ire of their fellow guards. One such young man is stopped by one of the veterans who yells at him,

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?”

The younger guardsmen flares his two-circle aura and slaps away the veteran’s hand,

“I’m not gonna die for something so idiotic!”

Similar scenes play out across the wall as young guards choose to flee rather than fight, knowing they were outmatched by the numerically inferior force. Richard watches as the men leave, and stops an archer who takes aim at one of the fleeing men,

“Stop. Save your ammo for them. We need every arrow we can spare.”

————————————

Ten minutes later:

“Alright, formation!”

The voice of the second in command echoes out over the group of loosely formed knights. They scramble, going to their positions in an almost robotic manner. The aura knights stand at the front with swords and shields at the ready, with the soldiers behind them wielding pikes and shields. Behind them is a row of archers, then the mages. As they move forwards, soldiers from the wall begin to leave en masse, with the remaining few now only being double what the besieging force has.

Rosanna calls out from her spot, front and center,

“Last chance! I’d rather not tarnish the legacy of these walls!”

The voice of the commander rings back, so quiet that the average soldier can barely hear it,

“THESE WALLS HAVE LASTED AGAINST FORCES ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND STRONG! NO MATTER HOW STRONG OF A MAGE YOU ARE, YOU WILL NEVER BREACH THEM!”

His voice is shaky and uncertain, full of fear. Despite that fear, the metal gates to the city remain shut. Rosanna watches on as the soldiers atop the walls bring out their bows, newly strung. She gives them a cold look and says,

“Very well. Butchery it is, then. MAGES!”

As she yells the word, a hail of arrows fly forth, aiming to pierce behind enemy lines and into the mages. Rosanna raises her hand, causing each arrow to fly off backwards randomly as they come into contact with an invisible barrier of wind. The mages behind begin casting their fire spells, coating the walls before them in a wave of burning inferno. The fire glints off of Rosanna’s armor, and causes her bright red eyes to glow. The pressure from the flames cause her hair to flow in front of her face, slightly obscuring her.

The enemy above this section of wall retreat to other sections, feeling the very ground below them beginning to boil their boots. Several are licked by flames as they retreat, causing their thick cloth armor to catch fire instantly.

Just as quickly as they appeared, the beams of flame vanish, leaving behind a slightly glowing stone wall. The mages begin to cast yet another spell, this one icy in nature. Blue circles glow, illuminating the surroundings in an ethereal glow. One by one, rushing streams of snow slam into the walls before them, exploding outwards in a blast of ice. Long crystal spears pierce the air as a loud clapping noise rings out from the wall. As the magical ice begins to melt away, the sound of collapsing stone fills the silent air, each reverberation causing a tinge of fear to build within each and every soldier. Soon enough, an avalanche of cold stone replaces the once impenetrable walls of Galeford. As if to mock their disbelief, Rosanna’s voice fill their bodies and shakes their bones,

“CHARGE!”

Sorrest

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