Dimensional Descent

As he ran, Leonel squeezed his still wet flexible armor on. Its black fabric flexed, clinging tightly to his body. Luckily, he hadn't been foolish enough to leave his weapons behind. No matter how uneventful the last month had been, Leonel would never forget that he was in the middle of a Sub-Dimensional Zone.

The idea of time dilation sounded great. Thanks to Zones, Leonel would be able to experience more life than his lifespan dictated, and even train faster than he should. But Zones were not a joke. If the main quest couldn't be accomplished, they'd be stuck here to their deaths. Only then would the Zone open once more to allow another to try.

A Zone wasn't a place that could be taken casually. If there was anything Leonel had learned in the Mayan temple, it was that.

The two, Leonel and Aina, hadn't traveled more than a kilometer from the campsite. It took them less than two minutes to return, finding the group of thousand men quickly organizing.

Leonel got a read on the situation quickly. It seemed that a scout had caught wind of an approaching English army, bearing down on Orleans.

From what Leonel knew, Orleans was one of the first if not the very first battle Joan of Arc had fought in and won. It was an important city on the edge of what remained of French territory and what was once French territory but now English territory. Back then, or what was considered right now, it was unprecedented and skyrocketed her fame upward.

However, with such a critical loss, and to a woman no less, it wasn't a surprise that the English would try and take it back as soon as possible. It was just bad luck that this encampment happened to be in their way.

The smart decision was to retreat and send a messenger ahead to warn Joan and Orleans. The encampment had likely already done the latter, but for some reason they weren't doing the first.

"If we retreat now, the common people are finished. We must hold out for as long as we can."

Leonel's gaze flickered. Ultimately, knights were still nobles. Though France had run into a problem of lacking enough land to consecrate these knights properly during this era, this fact still remained. How rare was it for a noble to care about the common people in this time?

'I've never heard of this General Franck before, likely because his name had been washed out of history maybe due to this very act here. But his actions are commendable…'

Leonel looked toward Aina. "I'm going to help them. You're a front line fighter so you'll be at too much risk if you jump into such a lopsided fight, just stay next to me."

Leonel was well aware that both he and Aina had surpassed the limit of humans, but they weren't gods. They still got tired, they could still get injured, and they were more than susceptible to overwhelming numbers.

Aina looked toward Leonel blankly for a moment before shaking her head.

"If you don't want me to die, then you'll just have to put a bit of extra effort into covering for me."

Her voice still carried the same gentleness, but it had an unyielding command to it. Leonel felt that her will was far stronger than his own.

Leonel closed his eyes. If they were open, it would be possible to see a deep flicker within them.

"General Franck. Do you have any siege engineers with you? Or any who have experience working with them?"

"Well… yes. We need a few to properly fortify our encampment."

"Good. Give them to me and a few men to chop down some wood. You build your defenses."

Quite frankly, the general was much too scared of Leonel to refuse.

was ridiculously easy. They could easily complete the three of them Leonel asked for by the time the Englishmen were

engineers need, continue and build at least 50 Cheval de

"Cheval de frise?"

patted his forehead, had such a thing not been invented yet? Without the proper experience, finishing 50

Leonel's mind churned. In a flash, he had an idea that could

of trees that surrounded a part of the river he had bathed in, he borrowed an ax

worked swiftly, leading by

portions widthwise into fourths. In the end,

to chip away at both ends of these pieces. Eventually, they ended up looking like double headed spears, albeit much thicker

the charging of horses by placing deadly barriers in their path. Even if the calvary men are

exactly as I did after you've

into the soil at an angle,

in lines that cover the battle in a systematic way. Between every set of three, leave about two meters of space. And lay out a

line,

"Do you understand?"

warriors nodded fervently, jetting off to their work. They were a bit skeptical of how just laying down spikes could stop a calvary, but much like their general, they were too scared

thought he'd receive such support, so he had asked for very little. But he

could see the Englishmen over the horizon, marching under the high sunlight in perfect rectangular formations, the

cross within tens of miles, they have no choice but to come through here… The encampment itself was already

climbed to the top of a set of

asked the siege engineers to build. It was nothing but a simple elevated platform. From

The differences lied in the fact that there were no castle walls to scale here and it was a great deal shorter than what it would

what he had asked of the Frenchmen, but he had spent all of this time forming thousands of spears. He hadn't had the luxury of helping

weapons with them. He could only make them

was all he could fit without impeding his throwing motion.

picked up a crude wooden spear, weighing it

to try and throw such a poorly weighted weapon. But there hadn't been time to

Englishmen stopped in the distance. There was clear disdain on their faces when they noticed the numbers before them. There were 20 000 of them, yet the enemy wanted to face them

conspicuous, but what did little branches in

"FORM UP!"

roar brought an eerie silence to the Frenchmen. They gripped their weapons and shields tightly to the point their

was when it

all with her back facing them. Her demeanor was almost lackadaisical, a

Whore who claims to be of God is right before us. Slay her here

brothers!!" The roar was

alone. Coupling that with the poor information circulation ability of this era, and it

enemy a morale boost

too inexperienced…' Leonel's

"CHARGE! FOR OUR BROTHERS!"