Michael heard a gunshot and immediately reinforced the barriers he kept around himself, forcing his already frozen magicka channels to move again. He saw fighting up ahead and ushered his horse forward as he drew his sword and unbuckled his shield. He was sluggish, enough that the other knights around him fell in line almost three seconds after he started to move.He reached what looked to be a battle mixed with a retreat filled with groups of knights, soldiers, and a motley mix of others. He saw a man in full Stent armor weaving and dodging between a dozen other knights. They would slash and hit nothing but air as his own sword danced toward their throats, slicing through their gorgets and sending out a mix of sparks and blood as each blow landed. For one brief moment he seemed to be overwhelmed, then he sent out a cone of flame from his hand, melting three of them down.One of the soldiers turned around to face Michael’s charge and raised a spear, but dropped suddenly as a bullet flew through the back of his head and sent him stumbling forward to be trampled by Michael’s horse. He looked at where the shot had come from and saw Marcus bat a man’s sword to the side casually with a gauntleted hand before sinking his bayonet into his chest, easily stabbing through the man’s thick armor.Michael marked him and Pyotr quickly in a way that would be visible to the rest of his party.“The two I’ve marked are with us! Take down the rest!”“For the gods!” cried one of the knights next to Michael, urging his steed forward to tramble a man with a pitchfork while he ran through another with his sword.Michael urged his own horse forward, aiming at the knights attacking Pyotr. He didn’t need Michael’s help. In fact, if Michael had just left them alone he was certain that Marcus and Pyotr could’ve easily dispatched the forty or so men that hadn’t cut and run. He leapt from his horse, slamming his new shield downward onto the nearest (...)