The clash of steel and bodies had its own unique sound that rang in Eirian's ears so loudly that she couldn't hear anything else. The tribesmen attacked from the back of their mounts but fought on the ground, leaping down to engage the soldiers of the Camelia face to face.
Their curved blades are wicked, leaving vicious wounds behind them as the blades were uniquely designed for getting in between the joints of the Crimson Army's armor.
Eirian hadn't fought against curved blades before, and it took a few parries before she could understand how to block them effectively.
The tribesmen had only hesitated for a moment when they'd broken down the gate. Eirian's magic was only truly intimidating if you knew what it was, and it seemed the tribe's ignorance worked in their favor, since they didn't know enough to be afraid.
Eirian had never faced a charge as large as this or led, for that matter, but only the first couple of steps were hard to start. After that, momentum carried her until Ardain collided with folded steel with a screech and a shower of sparks.
Duck, parry, thrust.
All fighting techniques were based on some combination of those three moves, and Eirian found herself falling into the rhythm without thinking about it. The upside of years and years of training was that she could react without stopping to think, and she cut every tribesman that came her way.
Her magic flared and fluctuated, striking those who came close enough, but she kept most of it back, wary of letting it loose and becoming exhausted before the battle was over.
They fought through the night, and Eirian only vaguely noticed the sun rise as the battle ebbed and flowed. They hadn't lost any ground, but they hadn't won any either.
Just after dawn, replacements rotated to the front, and Eirian retreated to the back with the others to rest and eat.
Vitali and Wayland had stayed by her side during the fighting, proving themselves rather skilled, though Wayland's voice was almost gone from managing the line and yelling orders, and he was covered in far less blood and gore than Eirian and Vitali.
Eirian was too hungry to notice the looks she was getting from the soldiers of the Camelia as she took a seat on a supply crate and downed a bowl of hot, sweet porridge and hard bread with a thick slab of meat and cheese.
Tanning appeared as Wayland was grimacing as he attempted to swallow with his sore throat. He'd sweated through his clothes and was covered in ash. "Most of the fires are out."
Eirian grunted as she chewed, and he cast a critical eye over all three of them before snapping at a nearby cook to bring them more food.
"We managed to save most of the supplies, but we lost a few sleeping tents." Tanning continued, taking his own serving as they started on their second.
"The attack is far from over," Eirian said between bites.
Tanning nodded in agreement.
Vitali pouded on her chest and burped before adding, "They're still pouring in reinforcements. We're in a precarious position."
"The tribes can summon reinforcements much faster than we can. It has always been a limitation. We managed it previously by having large, established camps like this where we could get reinforcements much more quickly than if we had to call for them from the Camelia." Tanning explained, frowning as alarm bells rang out.
Everyone froze for a moment, trying to see where the arrows would land and if they needed to dive for cover. They landed further back, among the sleeping tents that had already burned down, and Eirian went back to eating. "They've never attacked one of these camps before?"
Tanning shook his head. "They don't normally amass a force large enough to make attacking one of our main camps anything more than a suicide charge."
Vitali nodded in agreement. "They've been planning this."
"Beng Shai must be involved." Weyland croaked.
But Eirian frowned. Beng Shai was a very convincing man if he'd convinced the tribes to mount an attack this size.
And resourceful, to have helped supply and fund them as there was no doubt the tribes would have demanded that.
She chewed on another piece of bland, hard bread as she took stock. The Crimson Army had fought well so far, and they were doing better than expected when it came to casualties. Eirian herself was tired, but not exhausted. She had a few nicks and bruises underneath her armor, and she'd pulled something between her shoulder blades that no amount of stretching was helping with. She'd just have to wait until everything was over and then get someone to dig their thumbs in until the knot gave way.
Her hair was sticking to her face due to the sweat and blood, and she'd probably swallowed a bit of both by now, but there was no point in dwelling on it, and she chugged a pitcher of sweetened water to get rid of the taste of the hard bread.
The messages would have reached Chenzhou and Mingzhe by now, but there was nothing either of them could really do. It would take days for reinforcements from either of them to reach them, and since Eirian had decided they would stand their ground, any attempt to retreat now would see them decimated.
She considered her options. She could go all out with her magic and most likely do enough damage to send the tribes running, but there was no guarantee. And Eirian would end up being too exhausted to fight for at least a few days.
If she did it and it failed to scare the tribes away, or they sent even more reinforcements, and Eirian couldn't fight…
The Crimson Army wouldn't break by any means, but they would have to spare needed fighters to protect her.
She might not be the best leader yet, but she sure as hell wasn't going to be one who couldn't pull her weight and drag them down instead.
Another alarm bell rang, followed by the signal fire at the two outposts nearest to the one that had been abandoned.
Wen Chunhan pushed his way through the eating soldiers, getting a few venomous looks as he jostled them. "They're trying to flank us!"
Eirian didn't find that news all that surprising. Like duck, parry, thrust, the flank was the basis of every military tactic in existence; no matter what the scholars said, every maneuver was based on a flank in some direction.
And it was foolish to think that an attacking force that couldn't break the main line wouldn't attempt to go around it instead.
"We have enough forces to counter that," Wayland croaked.
Eirian nodded. "Send them. The longer we can keep the attack contained to one point, the better." She paused and turned to Vitali. "Send an additional reserve force to the front and tell them to try and push forward. Try to force the tribes to keep their attention there." She glanced at Wen Chunhan and his sweaty, mussed robes.
Somehow, his hair was still perfectly coifed, and there wasn't a speck of blood on him.
~ tbc