EdgarFig
patreon
90. Slaying the Beast
🕑 Added 2024-10-22 21:27:03 +0000 UTC“Can you get me over there?” Mark said as Biscuit just got done mauling another warg to death.
“I can get you close,” Yelinda replied, ripping off a piece of her cloak and waving it above them.
Her Warmaster and his elites immediately reacted, either slaying or breaking free of their engagements to assist.
Thankfully, Mark’s army's layered approach had resulted in the wargs being more hesitant to attack since every time they did, there seemed to be another trick up their sleeves. This allowed troops to disengage relatively easily unless they were within very close quarters with the enemy. However, that wasn’t too common thanks to the no man's zone created by the spearmen.
The no man’s zone was a few yards across—for the most part—separating the bulk of the warg army from Mark’s. Spears jostled along this zone, and missiles flew into the enemy ranks. Breaking it meant charging straight into a line of shields backed up by swordsmen. But worse was the recuperating Sabertooth Warriors that rested in the ranks, ready to burst into action if the enemy attempted to break through anywhere.
With the frontline mostly secured to their advantage, Mark’s elites could pick off wargs that were out of position.
Bounding between the ebbing frontline, Biscuit brought Mark and Yelinda to the left flank of the battle.
There were a few lines of wargs between them and the warg chief, and not even Biscuit could just force his way through dozens of wargs.
Reaching the front nearest to the enemy leader, Yelinda and her elites joined the front line of warriors.
“Alright, we push!” Mark shouted and waved his hands toward the enemy.
They had planned for situations like this. The army needed to be able to act and work on orders as they were given so that they could expose enemy weaknesses. It was a large part of why keeping fresh men in the rear was so important.
With a quick rotation, Mark’s fresh troops began to walk forward steadily toward the enemy, their spears doing most of the work.
Orders rushed down the line of commanders as captains and sergeants spread the word that Mark was pushing the left flank, and troops passed on leftover grenades, if they still had, passing them down the line until they reached the left flank. Within a couple of minutes, a volley of flaming grenades peppered the wargs who were trying to resist the push.
Even the archers who were much further back didn’t take long to react as the message was relayed, and soon, arrows were concentrated on the left flank.
The enemy clearly had no means of dealing with the disciplined attack. They weren’t used to having to move troops around, and warriors barely did anything on the right flank, paralyzed by the feared pushing into the rows of spears, while the left flank crumbled against Mark’s push.
However, the wargs did realize that they would likely need the combined strength of their forces to defeat Mark’s army, resulting in a stronger push against the allied clans. If they could rout the defenders, then they could still win. The wargs still outnumbered Mark, and by rallying all of the warriors against his formidable clockwork-like army, they could still win the battle.
We’re almost there. Mark eyed his target with anticipation. He just needed to wound it with his lightning and go in for the killing blow with his sword. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Shit!
Mark wrapped his arms around Yelinda and dove to the ground, pulling her with him barely a fraction of a second before a blast of bright energy skimmed the top of Biscuit’s fur where they had been sitting.
The warg leader growled behind his warriors, a stream of smoke curling up from his hand, and fired against, blasting Yelinda’s Warmaster and a couple of his elites from their feet.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked, looking down at Yelinda, both their faces mired in snow and debris.
“Yeah,” Yelinda nodded as Mark grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet alongside himself.
The blast had almost eradicated her elites, and the wargs were defiantly pushing the spearmen back.
“King Atlas!” A line sergeant yelled. “Back behind the line!”
Biscuit swiped his giant paw, throwing an advancing warg away like a doll, but they were now several yards in front of the shield wall and well within the no-man’s zone. The only thing stopping the wargs from swarming Mark and Yelinda was Biscuit's powerful claws.
“We have to move back, now!”
Yelinda nodded and whistled.
Even in the chaos of the melee, Biscuit followed his master’s command, turning and bowing his head to scoop Yelinda and Mark up and onto his back before leaping back behind the shield wall.
Clearly, the enemy hadn’t given up on catching the two of them. They likely had the same idea: kill the enemy leader, and the rest will fall. The wargs leaped into the fray, carelessly charging the shield wall and ignoring spears that impaled their bodies.
The first few fell, but more leaped into the melee, and within seconds, Mark’s well-organized line began to wilt as the wargs disregarded their own safety.
Biscuit swung around, batting one warg away after another, but one slipped through, catching Mark around the chest and falling to the ground behind the giant bear.
A flash of power crackled and thundered through the battle, rocketing the charred warg backward, and Mark wiped blood from his lip as he climbed back to his feet.
Reinforcements were funneling in now, and more and more Sabertooth warriors were entering the fray, just barely managing to keep the flank from collapsing when another beam of energy blasted into their ranks, sending the broken bodies of several warriors flying through the sky.
Yelinda countered, sending a whirlwind pummeling through the advancing wargs, but it was clear her power was fading, and the whirlwind did little more than delay the enemy.
Mark couldn’t spare any more of his godly power if he hoped to defeat their enemy and, in desperation, drew his sword.
The enemy had reinforced its position, and there were as many wargs between him and the enemy leader as there had been when they first arrived on the left flank.
Damn it. At this rate, we’ll have to hope we can grind through them.
As long as they won, he wouldn’t complain too much. But grinding their enemy down to a defeat would likely end in a pyrrhic victory.
Before Mark could decide on his next move, a blast of blinding energy like that used by the wargs and their cultists slammed into where the enemy leaders were located.
What? Mark's brow twitched. Could those things misfire? He wondered, but he doubted it.
The battle pushed back and forth, with warriors from both sides falling, but within minutes, the warg assault seemed to weaken, as if their attention had been stolen elsewhere, which only increased as another blast of energy hit their rear.
What is going on? Mark shook his head.
“Need a ride?” Yelinda said, commanding Biscuit to sit beside him with a pat.
“Thanks,” Mark said, grabbing her extended hand and pulling himself up.
“Something is going on near the enemy leader. We should be quick.”
“Someone else is attacking him?” Mark said.
“Not sure. I don’t know who among the clans would have such powers, but we can’t let someone else claim the kill.”
“Yeah, well, I doubt they’ll just let us march through,” Mark said, eyeing the wargs that tussled with his warriors.
“I don’t have much left. We’ll have to make this count.”
“Gotcha,” Mark nodded as Yelinda raised her hand.
“On me, soldiers!” Mark shouted. “It’s now or never. Victory is near. We push here!”
Whistles sounded as the commanders rallied their troops for another push. Although they had lost many warriors on this flank, with more troops rushing to the ready, they prepared to try again.
Tath Gorak pushed to the front with a couple of his brethren and nodded up to Mark as they charged into the melee alongside dozens of Sabretooth Warriors, instantly pushing the wargs back a little as they unleashed fury.
“Now!” Mark shouted.
Yelinda threw all her remaining power into a whirlwind twice the size of others that swirled through the enemy ranks, flinging them aside and breaking a line through the enemy formation that Mark’s warriors quickly rushed to capitalize on.
Biscuit leaped forward, swatting away a couple of wargs and snapping a third in his maw as he thrashed through the enemy line.
Wounds were starting to add up on the giant bear, but it didn’t seem to care as it continued its rampage, adding to the carnage as it pushed toward the enemy leader.
Another blast rocked the warg lines, and Mark spotted a warg being flung back a few yards ahead.
There is a fight ahead. Maybe somebody else has the same idea we do.
“Thanks for the lift,” Mark said, carefully pushing himself up onto his feet.
“What are you doing?”
“Being a king,” Mark said and leaped from the bear’s back, diving into a roll and bouncing to his feet in the middle of the warg ranks.
A wounded warg tried to halt Mark’s advance. But it was in bad shape, with dozens of arrows protruding from its body, and it clumsily lunged forward, falling short of Mark.
Without hesitation, Mark stepped forward, plunging his blade into the back of its neck and shoving his boot against its head as he yanked the sword free from the twitching beast.
The giant, black warg was even bigger and more intimidating up close. Its fur looked thicker, claws were longer, fangs were sharper, and red beady eyes glared out from its snarling visage.
But Mark spotted something he didn’t expect. It wasn’t barbarian clan warriors attacking the warg leader’s position. Priests donned in robes fought against the warg’s guards, surrounding a tall man with blonde braids who blasted an armored warg away with a beam of energy that shot forth from his palm.
The priests? Like the ones that attacked Winterclaw? Have the warg’s armies fallen apart?
He didn’t have time to speculate why these priests were attacking. He had to make the most of it. And preferably be the one to land the killing blow.
Charging forward, a light flickered out from his palm and slammed into the giant warg’s back, sending it toppling forward as he leaped toward it with his sword in hand.
The huge warg swung around as if possessed, smacking Mark’s side in midair and sending him hurling into the snow beside it.
Mark’s eyes widened, but he didn’t have even a second to process a thought as the huge warg bounced back to its feet and lunged for him.
Rolling to the side, he dodged the gaping maw and stabbed upward, drawing blood and a hissing whine that was accompanied by a swipe of its claws.
Rolling away, Mark avoided the bulk of the damage, but the claws shredded his jacket and opened shallow wounds across his body. Had he been a second later, the attack would have been lethal.
The beast’s red eyes clung to Mark, and it lunged for him again, but this time, Mark stepped forward, channeling whatever energy he had remaining into his sword as he met the beast head-on.
Thunder crackled from his hands, illuminating the pattern of his Damascus-like steel sword, causing a rippled light effect of purple, blue, and green as he plunged it into the warg’s chest.
Claws dug into his flesh as they met, and Mark could feel his life force draining from him, but it was the warg who was first to stumble, falling back as Mark pushed on.
Pressing down, Mark pushed the beast to its back, driving his blade deeper into its chest as his power rippled through its body, charring it from inside as the beast convulsed against the snow.
Pain flooded Mark as he felt the beast’s eyes flutter closed, and he stumbled forward onto his knees momentarily before falling into the snow, where red stained the white battlefield.
“Healer!” Yelinda shouted as she and Biscuit leaped to Mark’s side, swiping away a warg that charged for his incapacitated form. “Healer! Healer!” she cried.
