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Fire swept across the field, burning dozens at a time. White frost froze the soldier's breath mid-air. Regardless, wiping out hundreds or thousands wasn't easy even for the mages. Their magic of ice and fire was met with resistance. The soldiers regained their composure, pushing past their comrades' deaths to attempt a counterattack.
Breaking through these meddling mages would ensure the imperial capital's ruin, bringing the war to an end. That possibility drove them to shed their fear and charge ahead in a frenzy. Some soldiers even recognized me, raising their voices in excitement.
Although the first strike had been completely one-sided, we held overwhelming numbers. The exchange in lives was horrifically skewed. Overall, the battlefield had devolved into chaos, exactly where I belonged.
Sprint.
Of course, I no longer felt anything in particular for this battle. Everything was simply inertia. The inertia of killing. The inertia of absorbing. Like a...
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