"March for Hedarth." Omar said. "We have rested long enough, and now we must make our advance." Pyro roared in happiness. The dragon was nearly as large as Glaera now. Kyle was ready to attack. Hedarth was not but 3 miles from their current location.
"You heard him." Kyle said. "Move out." The dragons, riders, and soldiers marched forwards. He drew Brightooth. He lept onto Starkillers back, and the dragon released a blood-curdling roar. The army marched forwards and Omar loved the sound. The sound of war had begun. The stage was set for a new ruler.
WE ARE READY THEN, OMAR? Glarea asked. WILL WE FINALLY CONTINUE WITH OUR ADVANCE, TO CONQUER ALAGAESIA? Omar turned to the golden-red dragon, and nodded. She roared and lept into the air. Starkiller followed close behind her. Omar laughed, and it was a laugh that even HE found unsettling.
"Destroy all those who oppose you." He said to his army. "Kill all those who stand in our way!" He said, his laugh chilling the air. His army cheered beneath him. They advanced forwards, ready to strike again, ready to capture Nasuada's forces. To capture her home. Starkiller flew just ahead of the army.
"We're ready to strike!" Helen called.
"Then do it!" He said. He leapt off of Starkiller, and dove towards Hedarth. He landed in the square, hand on sword. He stood from the rubble of the square and drew his sword. Soldiers swarmed up to him and surrounded him.
"You're massively outnumbered! Surrender." Omar smiled.
"I may be outnumbered. But you're outmatched." he lept into the fray of people, all of which tried to stab him. He deflected their blades, beheading some of them. He impaled a soldier, whipped around and broke anothers skull. He kicked one away from him, and cut down another that charged. One spear was in the midst and he swiped clean through, not even a splinter. He beheaded it's owner, catching him at the collar bone. Starkiller dove down into the city burning men alive with his fire.
"Charge!" He heard someone yell. "Kill them all!" He turned the corner, and at least 500 magicians attacked him, with soldiers, simultaneously. His mind was pressed and he was easily fighting back against their minds, but the soldiers were advancing. At least 70, charged upon him.
"Soldiers!" Someone yelled. Omar, despite fighting the magicians, turned around. A man and a woman stood above him in the sunlight. A small group of soldiers, clad in black, stood behind them. "We are the elite! The best of Omar's army! Charge!" the lead man said. He was tall, skinny, with lightly tanned skin, and big curly black hair. The woman was much shorter, but she was faster. She was slightly paler than the man, with long brown hair.
"Fight them off until Omar's mind is cleared!" The women yelled. Omar's mind fought against the people, and eventually, they crumpled to their knees and died. He looked around him, and few of the 70 soldiers remained. About 20 remained, fighting off 8 of the black clad soldiers. He looked around and saw no other soldiers clad in black armor. This was all of them. And no soldiers in black lay dead. There was only 8 of these people. And they were leaders were especially good, their weapons cutting through the wards no doubt set upon the warriors. The leader remained and Omar himself dispatched him, cutting through his arm and then stabbing him in the chest.
"Good work soldiers. Who are you?" Omar asked. They bowed.
"We are your elite soldiers. I am Chris, she is Victoria. The two directly behind us are Raymond and Drew. Directly behind them are Kusi and Elias. And finally, Arucane and Andlat."
"Andlat?" he said. The man was small, and skinny. "A powerful name for someone so... small."
"Death is his name, as it is what he brings. He is among the top in our force." Chris said.
"Ok. So, who formed you?"
"Brom, Glaera, and Starkiller. We were formed as the best soldiers of your forces, after being observed previously." He heard the sounds of swords and metal nearby.
"Well, now's your time to prove it to me. Let's go." He said. He drew Brightooth and leapt towards the main part of the city. He rolled into the city, directly into a large group of soldiers. "Baralask!" He yelled. The small group was reduced to nothing. Blood roared in Omar's ears as he cut down two soldiers without paying them heed.
"Blod-Brisingr!" He heard. He turned his head and Victoria was the one who had uttered the words. Men screamed around her as she set their blood ablaze. She was a gifted magician.
"Jierda!" He said. A man was stopped from stabbing her in the back. His neck broke, and he crashed in a heap behind her. She turned, nodded then turned back to the battle. Andlat was living true to his name. Not a soldiers could touch him, his speed outmatched their strength. He kicked upwards, snapping a neck.
"Togira!" He yelled. Men suddenly fell, crippled by the magic, and lay in agonizing pain. Omar laughed. This little man was more lethal than he gave him credit for. Hedarth's defenses were crumbling in his armies wake. Soldiers fell, blood welling from wounds. A small group of women were pushed together by Max and some soldiers. He drew a sword and advanced on the first one. The women were clearly defenseless housewives. He raised his sword, and Omar his hand.
"Letta!" He commanded. Max froze and the soldiers looked around. Omar advanced forwards. "Blod!" He yelled. He took control of Max's blood, lifting him into the air. "We do NOT kill the innocent. Women and children are not to be harmed. Women, can be if they attack you. But children are to be disarmed and NEVER harmed!" Omar said. He threw Max aside. He got up. Slowly. Very slowly. He shooed the women away.
"You are weaker than I!" He yelled. "You stick to your morals! I will stick to-"
"Slytha." Omar said. Max fell to the ground, asleep. "Get him out of here." He ordered. "And see to it he's bound, with chains." He ordered. Raymond kicked an enemy nearby to his feet, then beheaded him. His used an axe rather than a sword, making him even more lethal.
"Omar!" Someone called. He spun around and saw that a group of soldiers was being pushed backwards, and Kyle was on the ground. Kyle had his hands on his head as soldiers advanced on him. There were obviously Eldunari in the area. At least 10. Omar sought out their minds, counting 34 Eldunari and 17 magicians. He pressed their minds and killed the magicians in a span of 3 minutes. He stopped the Eldunari, and weakened them to far, and their presence left Kyles mind. Omar lept at the group of soldiers, cutting through them, deafened by the yells of their death. Pyro was tearing his way towards Kyle, and Starkiller lept into the air and let out his deafening roar. Soldiers cowered to the ground before the mighty white dragon.
"That's right!" Omar yelled laughing. "Cower in fear! Realize that you're plights will be useless!" He smiled and cut down a lone large soldier that tried to attack him. He kneeled and Omar grabbed him by the throat. He smashed him into the ground and stabbed him in the chest. He coughed, and died.
"Omar..." Kyle said. He got up and Omar walked over.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Yeah... I'm fine. Damn Eldunari got the jump on me."
"Let's hope that it doesn't happen again. Come, we have some people to talk to." He walked over to the 8 elite soldiers. "Kyle meet the elite. They are the best of our army-"
"And the best human magicians any could ask for." Brom said, flying in.
"And as good as they may be, Brom, who authorized the creation of these soldiers?"
I DID. Starkiller said in his mind. I FIGURED YOU NEEDED AN ELITE FORCE, FOR SPECIAL MISSIONS. PEOPLE TO AID YOU IN SMALL ATTACKS THAT WILL REQUIRE INSIDE ATTACKS. A BEST OF THE BEST, IF YOU WILL.
"Alright. It's fine, good. Just inform me next time you do something."
"What about them?" Victoria said, gesturing to the soldiers.
"Turn them to our army. Or kill them. Your choices. I need to speak with you 8, along with my remaining Generals and Admirals." Mitch had been killed. Omar walked up to the office in the square of the city. Kyle, the 8, and the Riders all met their.
"So what're we here for?" Andrew asked.
"To discuss our plan of attack. The army we face now are the elves. Even more elite than the dwarves or Surda. One elf is equal to ten men. They are our most deadly opponents. We must prepare. Oh and one last thing."
"Yes?" Raymond asked.
"If Eragon does not surrender, Carvahall will not stand. Burn it to the ground, kill everyone except the children. And make sure that Roran suffers. Clear?" They all nodded.
"Good. Then we don't have a problem. Dismissed."
