[Sylvain might be used to all this, but he still wouldn't wish it on anyone. Lance is... about the age many of his classmates were the first time they found themselves in a real battle, sure, but that was against bandits. It still involved a lot of death in close quarters, but... it wasn't this. It wasn't three large armies of highly trained soldiers fighting and dying in the mud.

One, two, three arrows zip by. One, two, three enemy soldiers fall into the mud, never to get up again. A crackle of lightning and a scream from a heavily armored unit marks a Thoron spell finding its mark.

And a large ballista bolt punctures clean through the chest of a soldier wearing Faerghus blues.

And Sylvain wraps an arm around Lance's shoulders, pulling him close against his chest, so he can avoid watching more easily. So he has someone solid, reassuring, to hold on to.]

It is. Felix was brought to Aefenglom right after this battle. I'm... from... a few months later, but this is how wars are fought in Fodlan, Lance.

[No space battles or guns or range further than a longbow, unless you're allied with Those Who Slither In The Dark.]