There’s no fair or unfair in battle.
( There is only victory or in your case, defeat. )
So it had finally come to fruition.
As a native of Bellum, Vandrad was not lost to the bad blood that remained between Pergrande and his home nation. It had been educated into him during his school; of the evil nation that lay to the north east, ready and eager to wipe out magic and its users from the world. There had been a peace, if one could even call it that, between the two nations for some time. It was more of a ceasefire -- an unwillingness to engage in a conflict that would very quickly boil over into an international event. In the meantime, both nations had prospered on their own paths, growing and evolving in manners quite unlike the other. Bellum became a hub of magical power and catering to those that wield it. And Pergrande had continually developed itself without the aid of the supernatural force, crafting technology that could hopefully rival and usurp the strange power.
But somewhere during their growths, they had each developed traits more similar than different. Vandrad was not lost on the fact that Bellum mistreated those that didn’t harbor magical power, often considering them less than human. Enslavement, abuse and even outright murder had occurred over the nation’s growth as the ancient grudge they held against Pergrande made them apprehensive and violent towards those not dissimilar from the other nation. And Pergrande had been known to round up magic users and treat them in the same manner. It wasn’t something that the prince approved of; ripping someone’s freedom from them just because they were different seemed stupid at the basest of levels. And yet he carried very little power or influence to change that, especially in a nation where the ideology of magic was religious. Strength was strength, whether it came from magic, brawn or technology -- an aspect that Vandrad himself had only begun to understand in recent months.
Pergrande was still a problem though; it was a nation that sought to destroy the use of magic and spread its influence over the world. For that fact alone it was worth stopping and so when the letter came asking for him to return to Bellum and reenlist against the enemy nation. While he was hesitant to depart in such quick terms, he also understood the importance of his rejoining for the sake of his family’s honor. He imagined even his mother had been contacted because of the event. He informed Fairy Tail and Mercury of his commitment and explained that he would return once the skirmish had come to standstill, the prince hoping he could hurry along such a conclusion. And then he was off, his demeanor dark and already in combat.
Once he arrived at the forward camp, several things happened quickly. The first thing was that he was granted a promotion -- Cleric of Arcanos. While Vandrad was not a weapon user that usually came with such rank and glory, he had been trained well enough in weaponry to easily show he could stand on par with others. But Bellum wished him to be a force within their number; a beacon of destruction against the impurities of Pergrande’s wicked ways and a hopeful light for the spread of Arcanos, Bellum’s deity. It was an aspect that Vandrad was neutral about, though he spoke no ill will against the divine that supposedly guided the nation. He’d never been much for the blind commitment to deities or even devils, his recent run-ins with others within a different pantheon only furthering besmirching any desire to become spiritual. But to turn down such a promotion would be a poor choice and, as such, he accepted it and all the responsibilities that came with it. After that, he was tasked with heading out onto the snowy tundra where the two nations bordered and wreaking havoc upon the Pergrande forces that were fighting. Bellum’s own mages and soldiers were hunkered down and fighting back but they needed an overwhelming force to join in and turn the tides; the deployment of Clerics and Archpriests were the solution or so it was believed.
Unlike the other Clerics that were dressed in their full mythril plate, Vandrad had made some alterations to his usual armor set. He’d opted not to bring any of his own tech, for the sake of not confusing or concerning Bellum’s officials with such high quality machinery. Instead, he fabricated some bracers to attach to his gloves and some armor to go over his boots, along with pauldrons that covered his shoulders. Once that was all set, he adorned a heavy blue-black jacket, insulated pants and a light red scarf that was long enough to act almost as a cape. Hopefully it would be enough to keep himself comfortable in the colder conditions. With that he headed out, soaring into the sky and quickly coming upon the battlefield in the mountains.
The entire area was alive with spells and gunfire, the two nations throwing everything at one another along with other mercenaries that had been hired from both sides. As Vandrad scanned the battlefield, he noticed a small pocket of Bellum troops that were pinned down on a hillside. They were cowering behind the snowy mound and a trio of soldiers were approaching, looking to take them by surprise and mow them down. Growling softly, Vandrad released his magic energy that was allowing him to fly and flipped over himself, now diving straight down towards the ground. Just as the Pergrande soldiers were cresting the hill, down came the prince, slamming into the snowy earth with such force that several soldiers on both sides stopped firing to look at the massive cloud of snow that had been kicked up. For several long seconds, eyes stared at the haze before it started to clear, revealing Vandrad standing only feet in front of the group of soldiers. Realizing that he was no Pergrande backup, the soldiers raised their guns and shot at him, a haze of bullets showering the Bellum native. The slugs slammed into his armor and against his face, his armor denting and bruising but his body unharmed as the metal shrapnel flattened and fell into the snow. As their clips ran dry and they stared, horrified, at the unharmed prince, the magical shielding about his body flickered into existence for only a moment. Vandrad’s eyes narrowed. "My only promise is a quick death.”
It was the only warning he would give before his magical aura erupted to life, wrapping him up in bright and shining gold. His hair instantly grew long and bulky, sharp spikes poking out among the mass that hung down to the back of his legs. As the Pergrande soldiers quickly tried to reload, Vandrad’s arm rose up and unleashed a pure white blast of magic that ripped through one of the soldiers. It vaporized his gun, his armor and his chest, leaving a gaping hole where his torso should be. As that man fell dead, the prince rushed forward and slammed his hand into the next man’s faceplate, a hefty punch that dented the metal covering. But it also had left an imprint of his knuckles that was still glowing, melting through the helmet and causing the soldier to panic and burn. In his fear and pain, Vandrad was able to wrench the gun from his grip and throw it at the remaining soldier, the unloaded gun hitting him hard enough to cause him to stumble back. Vandrad then grabbed the branded man and threw him into the dazed soldier, spinning him by his arm and tossing him against his comrade. Both of them flew back together, crashing into the ground and then the burning brand ignited and exploded, swallowing them up in the deadly magical flames that erupted.
One group down but, as he scanned the battlefield and saw soldiers now remounting their efforts after their initial shock, there was still many more to bring low before this battle was over.
marzia at shine & gs.Last edited by Vandrad Ragnos on 27th February 2021, 7:41 pm; edited 2 times in total
