thomasdarkrose
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Nth Life - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2021-02-07 23:18:59 +0000 UTCZeke sat in the darkness of his mind for a few moments before light suddenly flooded his vision. The sight that he saw made him want to quake in fear. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to feel fear, he couldn’t. Rather, he felt confident, overconfident even. He felt his fighting intent brimming. He wanted nothing more than to fight, kill, slaughter, and decimate his enemies. Then he wanted to rip their skulls from their spines and drink wine from them while fucking a few whores in celebration of his victory.
He wanted to run though, that’s what his logical mind was telling him. Why did he want to run? In front of him, across a lightly rolling plain, was an army that blanketed the land. He couldn’t make out details on who they were but he could hear their shouts as muffled sounds even from how far away he was. There were thousands, tens of thousands, of men that wanted to kill him as much as he wanted to kill them.
He turned his head to the left, not a conscious decision on his part, and looked at a man standing next to him. Zeke knew this man, he’d never met this man before but he knew him. This man was his blood brother. They’d lived and fought together all their lives. His name was Alec. A protector of their people just like he was.
Alec was a massive man covered in corded muscle. He wore a thick leather breastplate, a pteruges (a skirt of leather strips that protected the thighs while preserving mobility), bracers, shin guards, and sandals. On his left arm was a large round shield with circular cutouts on the top and bottom while in his right he held a razor-sharp spear. On his waist hung a gladius. Zeke knew he held the same equipment and armor.
“Alec, brother, are you ready to slaughter our enemies?”
Alec gave a ruthless grin that looked like it would split his face in half, “Always Barak, brother. Let us drive them from our lands and celebrate the glory of their deaths!”
Both men laughed brightly. The thought of their own potential deaths far from their minds. They could not fear death, not when they were on the battlefield. Even if they were to die, their deaths would be celebrated by their brothers in arms. They would ascend to the afterlife and party till the end of time with their ancestors and brothers.
Zeke’s head turned away from Alec to face the opposing army once again. His blood boiled and his body tightened. He was nothing more than a passenger. He could think and observe for himself but all of his feelings and movements were controlled by the body he was stuck inside of. He felt his massive muscular arm lift his spear only to slam the butt into the ground with force. The thump of the spear sent a small vibration through the ground that he could feel through the thin soles of his sandals.
He lifted the spear and slammed it down again, only this time it was accompanied by those around him making the sound and tremors stronger. His action of slamming his spear into the ground spread until he and his thousands of brothers were all doing it in perfect harmony. Unlike the enemy before them that was a chaotic mass of individuals, he and his brothers were a single entity. One with each other and ready to fight, and die, for each other.
Zeke felt his body move as he took a single step forward and slammed his spear into the ground. As if psychically linked, every one of his brothers did the exact same thing at the exact same moment. That single step from all of them became a thunderous echo that signaled the beginning of the battle. Unlike their chaotic foes, they did not scream or shout. They took calm calculated steps forward. Their movement wasn’t just a signal to their own army but to the opposing army as well.
With unearthly screams and roars demanding blood, the opposing army surged forth like a tidal wave. There was no order. Their enemy charged with wild abandon breaking ranks and sprinting across the open plain. Zeke and his men were not so stupid as to waste their stamina on a pointless charge. Better to let the enemy come to them and break their bodies on their shields and spears.
Rhythmic thumping from his side countered the screams and shouts coming at them. Zeke wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away. Even though that was his logical mind speaking, his feelings and body were the complete opposite. His battle intent soared as adrenaline flooded into his system. The coming black wave of enemies thrilled him to no end. Despite his own desires, he felt excited! He wanted to fight! He needed to fight!
As the two armies drew closer he finally got a good look at his enemies. The sight made him want to run even more. The… things charging at him were NOT human. Sure they had the general shape of humans. Two arms, two legs, a hand, five fingers, five toes, yes he could see their toes. That was where the similarities ended. Their five fingers ended in vicious-looking claws, the same as their toes. Their skin was black, but not the same kind of black as people of African descent. Instead, it was a glossy onyx black that seemed to absorb light. Then there were their faces. Their horrible horrible faces. Their head was vaguely human-shaped with pure white eyes. No pupils, no irises, nothing but pure white. Then there were their mouths. Everything else about them was somewhat acceptable, weird but not crazy weird. Their mouths looked like something you would see on a loach. Round and filled with tiny sharp teeth and a long serpent-like tongue.
The closer they drew, the more frenzied they became. Their howls became ear-piercing and almost painful. He stood next to his men and allowed the enemy to break themselves against their shields. With his brothers next to him close enough for their shields to overlap. Next to his brothers, more brothers stood with shields overlapping and creating an impenetrable wall. Even the force of the charging enemies was dispersed as the brothers at his back braced with him and prevented him from falling back from the force. The thousands of them worked as a single unit to back up and protect one another.
After the initial impact of the charging monsters, it was time to strike back. Zeke felt the muscles in his arm move with practiced ease as the spear in his hand went about its deadly work. He focused solely on the enemies in front of him. He never tried to overreach or strike anywhere but dead ahead. Any of the monsters that came before him were pieced to death. Any that were to either side of him were pierced by his brothers. They worked together with a brutal calm to efficiently kill every enemy that dared come within striking distance.
Zeke would have lost track of how many times his spear thrust forward to kill one of the monsters but there was a constant count in his head. The longer he stayed within the body he inhabited, the more in tune he became with it. Memories of his training and practice at this very tactic came to him and he knew what would come next. As strong as he and his brothers were, they were not invincible and would soon tire fighting against the indomitable tide of monsters.
When he reached the appropriate spot in his count, he and all of his brothers moved as one. Both those next to him and those behind him. He and his brothers on the front line stepped to the left, the brothers at his back stepped to the right. He pulled his shield against his side and stepped back several paces while his brothers behind stayed in place. Once he withdrew, the new front line spread their shields and recreated the wall before their enemy could get too close. Their own dead slowing down the speed of the charging reinforcements.
He continued to step back in a staggering pattern to slip between the lines of men behind him until he arrived at the center of their ranks. Here he and his brothers could rest and recover their stamina or tend to any wounds they may have received. Though, those who had been harmed were mercilessly teased by the men surrounding them. There was no shame in bleeding, there was honor in it when harmed by worthy opponents. However, those they fought now were hardly more than attack dogs. The real enemies still stood at the back of their own lines.
Without the threat of imminent death and the confusion of suddenly being in a foreign body, Zeke finally had a moment to metaphorically breathe and take real notice of his surroundings and the people near him. He was no expert but his best guess was that the body he was in and the men around him were Greek or Roman soldiers based on their armor and weapons. Ancient designs and not even steel weapons. Which seemed odd. The Greeks and Romans should have had access to steel, yet the weapons looked to be bronze or another metal that looked similar in color.
Then there were those… things he’d been killing for approximately half an hour. He’d never seen anything like them or heard of anything similar. So what were they? Even the mind he inhabited didn’t know what they were. Just that they were bloodthirsty invaders looking to kill every living thing.
He was constantly experiencing new memories. He knew for a fact the things he’d watched himself slaughter were really nothing more than feral attack dogs of the enemy. There were untold numbers of them and they were always sent as the first wave. They were nothing but expendable fodder used to tire and weaken their opponents. It didn’t matter how many he and his brothers slaughtered, the warriors against them wouldn’t care in the least.
It was after these mongrels that the real fighting would begin. Once the dogs had been put down their masters would enter the battle. Those were the true enemy. Each of them stood a good two to three heads taller than even the tallest of his brothers. He himself only rose to about the middle of their chests. Then there was their inhuman strength. With a solid blow, any of them could send him or his brothers back several paces in one on one combat. Fortunately, their tactics prevented this from happening while they were grouped together. The only weakness they had found was that the giants were slow. They could easily be outrun and maneuvered around.
Zeke remained lost in the memories filling his mind for the next several hours. He felt like he was living an entirely new life, all thirty-two years of it. He even looked forward to retiring after eight more years to become an elder and begin educating the youth just as someone had educated him. Only the strongest lived to such an age through all the battles. They were honored and revered by everyone. Perhaps he could even enter politics and become a revered leader in his community. It would make finding an honorable wife easier so he could begin his own family. That would be nice. A son was a must though! Someone would have to inherit his armor and follow in his footsteps.
Zeke only came back to himself when he realized he was once again rotated to the front lines. They’d moved further and further back over the course of hours. They weren’t retreating. Retreat was a valid tactic in some battles but not this one. Here they would fight to the last man. No, they moved back because moving forward would be deadly. With the thousands of corpses they would be stepping on uneven ground. With the rivers of blood they would be stepping on slick grass. Unstable footing was death. None of them was stupid enough to blatantly walk to their death.
When he replaced the men on the front line, he felt a feral grin splitting his face. Before him were the warriors he wanted to face. The attack dogs were all dead or dying… at least the ones that were a part of this detachment of enemies. He was certain there were thousands more elsewhere. That didn’t matter now though. Now he could fight worthy opponents and earn merits! Now he could really participate in a true war! His whole body thrummed with excitement as his heart began to hammer and pump adrenaline throughout his system to strengthen him. Yes, this was going to be fun.
