The battlefield had already descended into chaos.
Men were dying.
Not in glory.
Not as heroes.
But as numbers.
Alex moved with the line, his spear trembling slightly in his grip.
His eyes weren't on the soldiers.
They were behind them.
Watching.
Analyzing.
"There…" he muttered.
A mage.
Standing far behind the enemy lines.
Calm.
Untouched.
Untouchable.
The man raised his staff.
The air around him twisted.
Heat gathered.
Compressed.
Violent.
Alex's eyes narrowed.
So there's a delay…
Not instant.
Not unstoppable.
Magic needed time.
Focus.
Control.
BOOM.
The spell released.
It crashed into Alex's side of the battlefield—
—and men disappeared.
Just like that.
Gone.
The line shook.
Panic spread faster than fire.
"Fall back!" someone screamed.
"No! Hold—!"
Too late.
The formation began to crumble.
Alex exhaled slowly.
This is how they win.
Not strength.
Control.
He tightened his grip on the spear.
Then break the control.
"Oi! Stay in line!" a soldier shouted at him.
Alex ignored him.
One step.
Two steps.
Forward.
Out of formation.
"Are you mad?!" the man yelled.
Probably.
Alex's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Loud.
Heavy.
But his mind—
Clear.
The mage lifted his staff again.
Energy gathered.
This one felt bigger.
Deadlier.
Now.
Alex ran.
Time seemed to slow.
Every step felt heavy.
Every breath sharp.
An arrow flew past his face.
Another struck the ground near him.
Too close.
But he didn't stop.
His eyes were locked on one thing—
The mage.
Distance… wind… timing…
He adjusted his grip.
Shifted his stance slightly.
Instinct.
Not skill.
Not yet.
The mage's spell reached its peak.
The air screamed.
Now.
Alex threw the spear.
For a moment—
Everything went silent.
The spear cut through the air.
Not perfect.
Not elegant.
But fast.
The mage's eyes widened.
Too late.
The spear struck.
Not the chest.
Not a clean kill.
But the shoulder.
The spell—
Collapsed.
BOOM.
But this time—
It didn't go forward.
It exploded backward.
The mage was thrown off his feet.
The energy burst into the enemy ranks behind him.
Screams followed.
Confusion.
Break in rhythm.
"What—?!" a knight shouted from afar.
"Their spell—misfired?!"
The pressure on Alex's side—
Lifted.
Just slightly.
But enough.
The soldiers near him froze.
Then slowly—
They turned.
Looking at him.
Alex stood there.
Empty hands.
Chest rising and falling.
"…I'm not dying here," he muttered.
A horn sounded.
Different this time.
Stronger.
"Advance!" a commanding voice roared.
The soldiers, shaken but alive—
Moved.
And for the first time—
The enemy line hesitated.
From atop a horse, a knight watched the scene unfold.
His eyes narrowed.
"…Who threw that?" he murmured.
On the battlefield below—
Alex didn't notice.
But something had changed.
Not victory.
Not yet.
But for the first time—
He wasn't just another soldier.
He was seen.