Rise of the Crimson Standard

Chapter 5

With a mix of exhaustion and elation, Percival surveyed the battlefield. Smoke and dust hung in the air, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded. The clash of steel and the thunder of cannons had faded into a muted rumble, replaced by the thumping of hearts and the ragged breaths of warriors who had faced the brink of death and lived to fight another day.

The officer who'd led the reinforcements now walked towards Percival. Percival glanced at his epaulettes. A Captain. Percival saluted.The captain halted a short distance away, his scrutinising gaze swept over Percival, from his boots to his disheveled hair. A small smile cracked across his face, followed by a hearty thump on Percival's shoulder.

Percival looked at the men in front of him. His men. These were no seasoned veterans, no trained cavalry, but men who were held together a sense of duty and honour. And they had survived against all the odds. Still, the battlefield was littered with their own dead and dying, and Percival could only see a few men on horses now.

The officer held him firmly by the shoulder "You alright?"

"Yes" Percival said, with his voice full of determination he didn't feel, and resolve that he didn't care about. All he cared about, at that moment, was that his men were dying. Groans from the dying filled the air. Amidst all this chaos and gore, Percival held his stomach and threw up.

The battlefield was a chaotic scene of triumph and tragedy, where the exhilaration of victory was tempered by the stark reality of lives lost and shattered. Percival stood amidst the aftermath of the fierce battle, his breath ragged and his body trembling with a mixture of exhaustion, relief, and grief. The pungent smell of blood and gunpowder hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke.

"Name's Clevis. Damned Beastmen captured our own artillery and used it against u- hey, you alright?"

Clevis's concern for Percival was evident in his eyes, even as he tried to maintain a facade of stoicism. "It's alright," Clevis said, his voice a reassuring anchor in the midst of the turmoil. "You did what needed to be done."

Percival nodded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he struggled to regain his composure. The taste of bile and the sight of fallen comrades were harsh reminders of the cost of their victory. He cast his gaze across the field, his heart heavy with sorrow for those who had fought and fallen at his side.

"We need to tend to the wounded," Percival said, his voice steadier now as he pushed aside his own turmoil to focus on the task at hand. "And see to the fallen. They deserve a proper farewell."

Clevis's expression hardened. "Not yet"

Percival looked at Clevis with surprise. "Sir?"

"The men down there-" Clevis gestured at the place where the battle would still be raging by now "-need our help".

Clevis continued "They don't have enough time, and neither do we. The ruckus we caused must've turned a few heads among the enemy. So, we're on limited time".

Percival protested "But-"

"I know it's not an easy decision" Clevis said, interrupting Percival, "We honour our fallen, but we also owe it to the living to secure a chance for victory".

Clevis placed a hand on Percival's shoulder, his grip both reassuring and steadying. "We'll remember them," he said, his voice soft yet resolute. "But right now, we must focus on turning the tide in our favour."

Percival nodded.

"Attaboy".

Clevis turned to his men and softly said "Damned".

"Sir?" Percival responded.

"Nothing, let's go survey the battlefield."

"If I may, sir..." Percival intervened.