I had never counted for anything in my life.

I had always been someone's subordinate, the last wheel of the cart who only had to obey without ever having to give orders.

First, I had obeyed my parents, then my brother, then, once I joined the army, my superior officers.

It had never been a problem; in fact, sometimes it made me feel good to think of not having the burden of having to decide for someone else on my shoulders.

A year earlier, I was just a recruit of the imperial army with no future, who could at most aspire to reach retirement and obtain my own piece of land on which to build a home and a semblance of a life.

But all of a sudden, everything changed.

In a single day, in that fateful nameless field, I had seen everything I thought I knew crumble; there I had seen my brother and many of my friends die, and I had witnessed an event that I knew deep down was destined to change not only my life, but that of all of us.

I had never wanted trouble in my life, also because I had been told from an early age that the destiny of those born in my condition was to always have someone above them; and I must admit, for a long time, as I have already said, I accepted it.

Yet the idea behind the Revolution that any of us could aspire to achieve any goal we chose to set ourselves, regardless of race, status or wealth, had not seemed so bad to me.

I wasn't strong or resolute, and I certainly wasn't suited to leadership. The thought of being able to make a difference and being able to give my contribution to the cause was enough for me.

But from the day after I joined the National Guard, now renamed the Grand Revolutionary Army, I realized that I had a fire inside me that I didn't even suspect existed.

It was the fire of courage. Now I wasn't fighting anymore just to save my life, or because a nobleman who only by some supposed divine right ruled over me told me that I had to do so. Now I was fighting to defend and spread an ideal in which I had chosen to believe, and in the name of which I would have been happy to give my life.

At the Giants' Mouths, I had only had a support role, taking care of keeping the wounded safe, perhaps because our commanders, not without reason, feared that the idea of immediately finding myself face to face against my old comrades might make me hesitate.

During the first attack on Grote Muren I had seen General Natuli take the quiver off my shoulder and throw herself down the walls, piercing one enemy after another.

In Mistvale, I had fought side by side with my comrades for the first time, and General Jack himself had saved my life by taking a spear for me.

Finally, in Alois, I had led a group of my companions in the assault on the Tourelle, and even if I had lost a finger during the attack, I had personally planted the flag of the Fourth Corps on the top of the hill. I still don't know what gave me the courage to commit such recklessness, a coward like me who was only trying to get home alive.

Perhaps I was inflamed by the ideals of the Revolution, and as many others I dreamed of seeing it triumph everywhere, putting an end to centuries of exploitation of the weakest, whether they were humans or monsters.

I would never have believed I could embrace an ideal with such fervor, but it was probably thanks to Lord Daemon; every time I listened to him, he had the power to convince me that there were no impossible goals.

On the evening of the battle he had come to visit me in the infirmary, shaking my hand and thanking me for what I had done; he had thanked right me, a mere private.

Then he told me that as a reward for my action I could get discharge from the army and ask for anything, a job, land or a shop.

Only a few months earlier I would have accepted without hesitation. Instead, I had respectfully refused, stating that I wanted to continue fighting for him. Such was the power of his charisma, capable of instilling courage even in the most useless of cowards.

"Men like you are born to lead others by example." he had therefore told me. "If you have a talent, any talent, tell me. I promise I'll put it to good use."

If there was one thing, the only one, that I was proud of, it was my ability to learn to handle every kind of tool or instrument I came across; I only needed a moment, just long enough to understand how it worked, and I was immediately able to make the most of it.

"It's a more useful skill than you think, and it will come in very handy. When the time is right I will show you how to best use it."

Ultimately, my wound prevented me from taking part in the final battle against Faria, but once we had taken control of Eirinn and peace had been achieved, my sergeant had told me that I would be admitted to the new officer school to learn all about leading men armed with the new rifles.

From there it had been all downhill, and before I knew it, at the end of what was at times inhumane training, I had become Captain; Messer Daemon himself had placed the flag of the 4th Company of the Mistvale Battalion of the 4th Corps in my hands.

The "Fearsome". This was our nickname, since we were all former legionaries who had decided to embrace the ideals of the Revolution.

Now I had men at my command.

In the end, it didn't take long for me to realize that I was capable of leading them in a way that the old me never expected.

I had learned to understand rifles so well that I knew not only how they worked and how to care for them, but also how to make the best use of them in any situation.

I felt invincible.

We all felt that way.

And perhaps the disastrous defeat we had suffered at Bedburg had hit us hard for this very reason, proving difficult to bear more from the point of view of morale than of actual losses.

I am not in a position to judge how I behaved on that occasion, also because we were only marginally involved in the clash.

On the contrary, I can say without fear of appearing arrogant that my conduct and that of my companions in the battle against the secondary army was commendable; after having successfully repelled a cavalry charge, we and our Battalion had managed not only to resist, but even to organize a counterattack, heavily engaging the enemy flank and thus opening the way for the assault by the rest of the infantry.

Once we escaped from Bedburg, my company and I found ourselves isolated, managing to rejoin the rest of the army near Arendt after four days through long night marches.

We were so tired from the long march that Lord Daemon himself had given us permission to pitch our tents and sleep until new orders arrived, but we all knew very well that the next battle would be the decisive one.

We were not denied.

First there was a rumor that the enemy had left Faria to come towards us, then the orders to prepare for the clash began to arrive.

One morning, while I was eating something with my lieutenants, an officer arrived on horseback.

"Who's in charge here?"

"I, Sir. Captain..."

"I don't give a damn about your name. Are you the commander of the 4th Company of the Mistvale Battalion?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are your men all here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Gaia almighty, it's worse than I thought. All right, gather your things and come with me."

My soldiers barely had time to gather and fall into line before the rally rang out throughout the camp.

Following the officer, the others and I climbed up the hill, while we were already starting to hear the first cannon shots from the barren area to our left.

We finally took our place along a tree-covered ridge, a short distance from a path that passed through a small depression in the rocks in an east-west direction.

"Our line will go from this point to the vineyard fields to the south-east. The heart of the deployment is the hill just outside this forest. You are assigned to the right flank. The Commander was very clear. No front must give way. All units must remain in their position without moving a step. You have to resist. Down to the last man, if necessary. Was I clear?"

"Yes sir."

"May Gaia be with you. You'll need it."

As soon as the officer had left I called my subordinates together.

"We will occupy this small ledge. We will form three lines, which must be as compact as possible. The third line will remain in support without firing. Should one of the other two show signs of failure, we will use it to strengthen the front and maintain control of the terrain."

"Do we have an idea of the enemy forces?" asked Marko, my most trusted sergeant and dear friend

"For now both armies are still converging at this point, and when they are all here the balance of forces will be three to one. But right now the situation is much more unbalanced in the enemy's favor."

"Do you think they will attack at this point?"

"I wish it weren't so, Aisha, but the facts say otherwise. If you look left and right, you will only see rifle units. There are the Gael members over there, the Wagram boys over there. The Commander clearly expects a massive assault on this very flank. Which is plausible. The forest is not too thick; it offers shelter from artillery but does not excessively hinder maneuvers. The imperial army will probably come from that path over there, between the rocks. If you notice, this is the point where the slope is least steep, which means that we will most likely be the ones to suffer the frontal attack. We will have to take advantage of the moment in which they are still taking position to hit them as much as possible with enfilade fire. If they close the formation and start to climb, it will be more difficult to make them retreat. Tell the soldiers to save their grenades. They will be useful in case the enemy gets too close. They have to stay low, as low as possible. Let's use this time to cut down some trees, stack rocks, dig some holes. Any cover against their arrows will do. Sasha, Luna."

"We're here."

"You will be the messengers. Sasha will keep contact with the right side, Luna with the left. We will have to try to coordinate our efforts with other units as much as possible. Bruno, how many bullets do we have?"

"About forty per man, plus a small emergency supply."

"Let's hope it's enough. Anyway, you heard what they said. This time there is no retreat. Behind us the hill thins out into a narrow plain, and the lake is immediately behind. If the enemy spreads, the entire army will be trapped and closed in a pocket. It's up to us to prevent it. Do you understand, my friend? We must prevent it."

"Yes sir."

"Very good. At your places."

The thirty minutes that followed were the longest of my life, and probably not just mine, while in the distance he could hears the roar of battle getting closer and closer.

Almost immediately, the battle cut us off from communications with the rest of the front; the last information we managed to receive before being isolated was that the enemy had shown up with three legions, one of which was certainly heading against us.

We had just finished setting up some barricades and planted our flag on the ground, when the lookout stationed in a nearby tree let out a scream.

"They're coming!"

In such inaccessible terrain, the approach adopted by imperial commanders was usually to break up the legions into many groups that could move more easily; each group was made up of a maximum of two hundred soldiers, usually grouped according to their rank and role.

Three groups of spearmen arrived first, taking up positions along the path and forming a shield wall at the most exposed points that provided cover for the two groups of archers immediately behind.

Since the most exposed point of the path was beyond our reach, we could do nothing, leaving the task of hindering the maneuver to our comrades from the Third Army.

The Imperials suffered significant losses, but still managed to get a good number of archers to safety behind the rocks in front of us, from where they began shooting clouds of arrows.

The aim of us riflemen was to move quickly, therefore we had neither shields nor armour; to defend ourselves we used to build barriers of branches or walls of spikes in just a few minutes, and thanks to the protection offered by the trees, the enemy's arrows didn't hurt us much.

That first arrival of enemies was followed by another, this time made up entirely of groups of lancers and skirmishers, who began to advance towards us backed by their companions.

We repelled the first attack without major problems, and so did the second and third.

Each soldier fired an average of two and a half shots per minute, and even though the enemies used shields and armor, our bullets were powerful enough to pierce their protection.

However, no matter how many Imperials we shot down, they continued to attack, always receiving new reinforcements.

The fourth wave arrived just forty meters from us, but in the end still had to retreat beyond the range of our rifles to wait for new reinforcements to arrive.

"Hold your fire! They're falling back!"

We too needed a break, and my companions were happy to have a breather; I took the opportunity to send a messenger to see how the battle was progressing, and in the meantime, I asked for information on the status of the nearby units.

"The Wagram suffered two assaults, but repelled the enemy without any particular problems."

"The Gael targets everyone who comes along the path, and so far they haven't been attacked."

"It's as I feared. They are concentrating here. Talk to the commanders of Wagram, Gael and Alois. Ask if they can send us some reinforcements, or at least some ammunition."

"Captain, they're coming!"

"Damn it, everyone in your seats!"

The Imperials had also reorganized themselves, receiving reinforcements and replenishing their numbers. The fifth attack served to test the waters, on the sixth I had to start ordering to spare shots.

The ridge in front of us was literally invaded by bodies, and during the short pauses between the assaults, we took advantage of the opportunity to recover some shields, bring them into our lines and transform them into a barrier.

"Captain, bad news. The Wagram has nothing to send us."

"The Gael too has passed. The enemy is trying to break through there too."

"Captain, perhaps we should fall back higher. This time they came very close."

"We cannot break the line. If the others remain still we must do the same, otherwise the enemy will take our comrades on the flanks. Let's strengthen the front. I want the whole reserve. Even the wounded, if they can barely hold the rifle in their hands, must remain in their place."

"Here they come again!"

"Ready to fire!"

This time the enemy had gotten smart; on the seventh attack, the legionaries no longer advanced in formation but in scattered order, trying to move up as quickly as possible.

The archers also began to advance, often hiding behind their more armored companions or behind trees, reaching the ideal position on several occasions to be able to hit us easily.

With difficulty, we also repelled the seventh and eighth attacks, but the casualties began to rise alarmingly, and I had to order to narrow the width of the line so as not to leave holes.

"We're running out of ammo, Captain. Some of our men only have three or four shots left."

"Distribute all the ammunition we have left."

"Captain! Bad news, Sir! The enemy has opened a breach between us and the center!"