By the time night fell, Gezarius had recovered his sight and smell. He headed for the fortress, but he was shocked by what he found there. The fort had been set on fire. He first investigated the surroundings. For monsters, searching the ground wasn’t difficult even at night. They found hoofprints and immediately knew their enemies had headed west. It was the opposite direction from Anheim. They likely had another base there, Gezarius surmised.
Normally, when beasts hunted as a pack, they divided themselves between those who would pursue their prey and those who would lie in wait for an ambush. Thus, they fought their battles in groups as well. However, Werner had already left the fortress, which meant they had no time to divide themselves. Gezarius followed after them with the group already with him.
Luckily for them, human armies were slow when carrying supplies. It was a moonlit night, and a Zehrfeld flag billowing in the wind would be easy to spot. The land was flat, giving no one the advantage, but the Demon army had night vision that far exceeded that of humans. Given that the terrain left no room for tricks, the Demon army concluded that they could rush straight into battle. Still, they approached with caution.
It was true that Werner was currently on the move, but he was already anticipating his enemies’ pursuit. Werner had an idea of what direction Gezarius would attack from as well, and he’d positioned many of his knights there. This wasn’t because they were superior in strength, but because horses were easily spooked. While they were trained not to lose their senses during a battle, Werner believed their animal instincts would allow them to sense if any hostile forces approached.
And the horses did just as he hoped of them. The Demon army wasn’t exactly far away, but they noticed their careful approach faster than a human could. One began to whinny, and with that, the entire army turned around.
“Onward!” barked Gezarius, realizing they had been discovered. The Demon army rushed forward. The knights of the kingdom’s army galloped forward as if trying to run away. Once they did, what entered the Demon army’s sights was a line of infantry backed by a metal plate like a shield.
“Get down! Lights!” Werner shouted those orders more seriously and sharply than he ever had before. At his command, the foot soldiers dropped to the ground, revealing a row of magic lamps in the double digits that had been hidden between them and the metal plate. The men who controlled the lamps stayed upright and hid behind the large sheet of metal.
Next came an explosion of light.
Magic lamps had enough power to last up to twenty days when used conservatively. While they shined brighter than candles, you could make them last longer by shining them no brighter than what it took to light a room. Now, they let the magic in all those lamps burst forth to shine for only a few minutes, creating a truly exceptional burst of brilliance.
When Werner had asked Vogt, the captain of the mage squad, about this tactic, the latter was reasonably skeptical about the plan. Magic lamps were not normally used this way. However, a light this bright was also normally impossible at this time of night. The metal plate acted as a mirror, reflecting the light toward the Demon army. They were hit with almost all of it.
The blazing flash bleached the night sky. People as far as Anheim witnessed its brief spark and some, convinced the stars were falling from the sky, whipped themselves into a frenzy.
The monsters’ night vision was their downfall. A flash like that in a well-lit area during the day would be disorienting, but amid the darkness of night, it had them writhing on the ground in agony.
“Don’t turn around! Charge!”
Backed by this flash, Werner’s army rushed into battle. The Demon army couldn’t open their eyes. The pain had many of the Werewolves covering their eyes with their claws, blind to the blades that fell upon them. Those writhing on the ground were pinned there by spears. Alongside the footsteps and clinking armor of the men under the commander for the kingdom’s army, the cries of Lycanthropes filled the night.
“Push through them and head west!”
“Leave the ones who can’t move behind!”
“Don’t engage! Head for the third fortress!”
The kingdom’s army broke through their enemies while occasionally yelling out such commands. Their thoughts were focused wholly on cutting through the Demon army, piercing them, stabbing through their windpipes, and cutting their stomachs open with swings of their swords. Sometimes, they would kick the monsters over in anger as they ran them by.
The battlefield was filled with terrifying screams and shrieks of agony as blood dyed the soil red. Gezarius was doing all he could to endure the pain in his eyes when he heard a familiar voice.
“What do you think, Demon Commander? Do you finally understand how much of an imbecile you are?”
His arms moved before he recognized the voice to be Werner’s. Spurred by anger, he struck out with such force that it would have doubtless been lethal had it found its target. However, he was blinded, and amid the clamor of battle and the stench of blood, he couldn’t judge the distance between them. Instead, his large swing knocked him off balance. He was at Werner’s mercy.
Werner’s spear stabbed through Gezarius’s right eye.
Gezarius swung his arms in a frenzy, roaring in pain and fury. Werner dropped his spear and widened the gap between him and Gezarius. His beloved spear was so worn out it was nearly unusable, but the size of his spearhead was perfect for finding small targets in the dark of night. Targets like an eye.
“You can keep the spear. Next time, I’ll be taking your left eye as repayment!” he yelled at Gezarius. Then he ran. Once the kingdom’s army had succeeded in breaking through to their enemies’ center and disappeared, all that filled the night were the cries of the Demon army. There was doubtfully any instance, from the fall of the last Demon Lord until now, that the Demons had suffered such a defeat. The battle had even occurred under the cover of night. The advantages were stacked in their favor. It had been a night of impossibilities.
“That brat…! Remember this! I shall show you pain that will have you wishing for death!” Still shaking with fury, Gezarius pulled the spear from his eye socket and snapped it with his hands. His spiteful cries faded into the night sky.