What happens if Napoleon Bonaparte is resurrected in a fantasy world to save a whole continent from a Demon Lord?
A moment after his death, the former ruler of Europe receives a visit from the mysterious Faucheur, who proposes him to reborn in anoth...
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A frightening noise rose above that of the centaurs in the midst of the charge and the dry mountain air filled with the nauseating stench of gunpowder, while the barricades disappeared behind a thick white smoke.
Athreia and her companions initially didn't even understand what had hit them, but nevertheless all of a sudden dozens of them fell disastrously onto the snow, dyeing it red.
Those who followed immediately behind instinctively tried to stop so as not to overwhelm their companions, but despite their powerful hooves it was not easy to stop a charge on frozen ground, and so many of them also fell, causing even more chaos.
Soon the smoke screen cleared, just in time for Athreia and the few who had not yet stopped the charge to see the enemy shooters rise and retreat, being replaced by their similarly armed comrades.
"Fire!"
The second volley was even more lethal, because by now many Furies had almost stopped, becoming easy targets, and in fact in this case there were many more deaths.
In the end, the charge inevitably stopped and no centaur reached the palisades, from which, despite everything, volleys of bullets endlessly continued to arrive. The worst thing was that the enemies mainly aimed at the equine half of the centaurs' bodies, often left exposed or poorly protected, thus managing to make them lose their balance and causing a lethal domino effect. And once a centaur fell it was not easy for him to get back on his feet, leaving him vulnerable.
Medea, who was not wearing any type of protection, tried to shoot some arrows and even managed to kill a couple of shooters, but this only had the effect of pushing the enemies to concentrate their fire on her.
"Medea, watch out!" her sister screamed, but was unable to prevent a bullet from hitting her in the arm.
"Commander, if we stay here they will massacre us!" said Stavros, protecting himself with his shield and at the same time trying to help some wounded comrades
There was no other choice.
They had to retreat.
"Move back! Retreat!"
The unit's iron discipline prevented the retreat from turning into a hasty escape, but it also gave the rebels the excuse not to stop shooting for a moment until the Furies went beyond the range of their infernal weapons.
Obviously the sight of the infamous Vanlian Furies retreating without even having actually fought pushed the mercenaries not to even try to advance themselves, despite Ignes' incitements, and what was thought to be a rapid ride towards victory became a colossal failure.
When the guns finally fell silent there were ten victims and twice as many wounded on the ground, who were taken away after agreeing to a two-hour truce.
