Magnus swept forward repeatedly, surging forward and killing all around him, then backing off to reassess. He didn't call upon his brutal rage, but merely his innate and hard won skill at arms. His arms were covered to the elbow in bloodand gore. As the enemy routed, he backed off once more, allowing the normal soldiers to follow up the advance. He gathered with the rest of the Dawn Brigade in a quiet spot on the battlefield. They were near Cordelia. He was part of her bodyguard, but he was more of an offensive weapon than the others, so he tended to stray farther from her than they did, lashing out at anyone who seemed likely to get near her.

At Acacia's words, he brushed the brains off his shoulder. His blue and gold shirt and cloak were sodden with gore, and the underlying colours were barely visible. He looked every bit the darker version of his deific father, the god of righteous battle. But where his father shone brilliantly, he was more a force of nature, powerful and full of rage.

"I am always ready for one more advance," Magnus said to Saetiri's question. There was a weariness to his voice which was not matched by the powerful stance he took up. He never looked downbeaten, but there was a familiarity to his voice which was well known to his comrades, who knew how much he disliked killing ordinary soldiers. They were, after all, merely men who were forced to do battle by their betters, people whom Magnus had no problem in killing, even if they were people who had previously been his own friends.