Digging through frozen ground consumed a great deal of magic.
Mages needed to conserve their magic. If he could, he would have loved to make those knights do the digging.
But he had no choice. He needed to build defenses and create cover for his comrades.
Comrades on the battlefield were falling in droves. Corpses lay everywhere.
Red blossoms of blood stained the snow-white ground.
He wasn't the only one who felt this way.
But there were exceptions.
Those brave men.
Yes, the brave men.
Some high-ranking knights, encouraged by their superiors, still had faith in their liege.
What hadn't these old men seen?
These men, already past thirty or nearing forty, were just as well suited to their liege as could be: a bunch of old diehards.
The arrogant old fogies, sustained by their families and riding the benefits of their status, were about to prove their courage and strength!
A sixth-rank knight drew a cross on his chest.
He was one of the champions of the knightly duels!
Even if those contests were no longer the life-or-death struggles of ancient times,
and had instead become mere spectacles,
his pride remained.
It was the arrogance that came with the social standing he had earned.
The young knights under his command tried to warn him. "Captain, don't charge! We're outnumbered. You might not fear bullets, but we do."
"Why not follow the Imperial Army officers' instructions first? Dig a trench, then advance step by step while building bunkers and trenches, Captain."
"The orders have already been given. Those shrapnel fragments and bullets are just stronger, more useful crossbow bolts."
"Have some courage!"
"Charge!"
The knight captain wasn't afraid of bullets. He was incredibly fast.
Many other high-ranking knights charged alongside him.
If they had gathered together, they would have been