Well, here I am with another chapter! I know its not a popular story, but I'll keep on writing it just because I can!
Don't really have anything to add I guess so just enjoy!
Chapter Five: The Fall of Gantill
501 A.E. October 1st Holy City of Kalm
"TAKE THE CITY! PLUNDER, RAPE AND STEAL TO YOUR HEARTS CONTENT!" A helmeted infantry captain roared, the man leading a charge through the broken fortress walls of the holy city. Thousands of men brayed, forcing their way through multiple gaps in the defenses as buildings burned, filing the air with soot and ash.
Screams arose from the citizens, their terror cut off by violence as the invading army killed and slaughtered those they deemed unworthy. Young women tried to flee, often being dragged to the road and defiled by the victors while loved ones were rendered by the sword.
A final defensive line of holy knights tried to keep them from the holy temple of Lanis, the spires of white and cathedral glass reflecting the bloodshed falling upon the city. Sword and spells clashed, the dying screams of men on both sides a cacophony of slaughter.
"WE MUST HOLD MEN! WE MUST HOLD!" A large knight yelled, his sword a shimmering white as he cleaved an advancing enemy in half. Bracing his shield, the man used it as a bludgeon, killing another Ghevanian soldier as his men fought a desperate, last stand upon the holy temple grounds.
Arrows rained down, puncturing a few throats, but the holy knights were exceptionally trained, strong and blessed by their god. Several mages launched spells into the ranks, exploding fireballs and ice arrows ruining flesh and lives.
But still the knights held as they enacted a butcher's bill of death upon the swordmen trying to break through and reach the cathedral doors.
"FOR THE BLESSED GODDESS OF LANIS! PROTECT US!" The Commander shouted, his sword suddenly illuminating a bright, serene light as his faith burned from his soul. Surrounded by the enemy, the remaining knights became encased in a shimmer of near crystal light as their plate-mail and weapons became encased in the same glow.
"FOR LANIS! FOR THE HOLY LIGHT!" Swinging once more, the commander's sword cleaved a swordman in half vertically, spilling entrails across the body strewn grounds. His men hacked and slashed, hammered and killed the enemy pouring toward them. Blood splashed and flew, splattering across the knights as their protection offered a momentary salvation from wounds and death.
But one by one, they began to fall to the sheer numbers as angry, vile men made sure none survived.
The commander was the last to fall, his armor dented and rendered. Sword finally broken as half a dozen piercing arrows punctured his plate with magical enhancements, he gave one last battle cry and took the nearest man into death, skewering the enemy captain with his shattered blade through the throat. Blood splashed and flowed, the two locked in death as the invaders pushed past toward the cathedral.
"Hurry sisters! You must hurry!" Shoving piles of precious tomes, ancient spell books and relics into the arms of several young priestesses, the head father and holy priest urged them toward the magical transport gate as the nearby doors began to jounce and buckle.
"Father Simon! We can't leave you behind!" Sister Agnes shouted and cried at the same time, her shoulders and back laden with an over-stuffed pack of church valuables.
The weathered, old man tried to smile, his balding head a patchwork of skin spots and wrinkles. His remaining hair was near perfect white, a testament to his age and wisdom.
"I've lived a long life, Agnes. You and the other sisters must survive…support the priestess of Kalm" Indicating the beautiful brunette wearing a stunning robe of white, the woman was still in shock at the vile acts befalling this blessed city.
"But!"
"Please…step into the circle and escape. Those men outside…they'll do horrible things to all of you…including Ciara" Gently pushing the robed sister across the massive magical circle built into the floor and the glowing runes, the old man waited as the women cried, their tears flowing.
In a flash, they were gone, the ancient magics carrying them to the holy city of Lanill.
The doors buckled, the yelling, vile men outside doing all they could to break into this holiest of sanctuaries.
Grasping his gnarled staff, the elderly priest knew he could not allow the Ghevanian's to take control of this vital, magical resource. Walking around the swirling symbols, he gazed up at the marble statue of Lanis, her beauty and eternal light giving him comfort in these last moments.
The cathedral doors buckled once more, a heavy splintering of wood as several faces appeared in the growing cracks and damage.
A final sigh of regret left Simon's lips, but the old mage and priest would not let evil win this day.
Twirling in a stylish swirl as the doors broke further, he began to gather all the magical energy he could muster. His staff began to glow white, crackling with electricity as bolts began to flare and jump.
'CRASH!'
The door shattered, a dozen swordmen spilling in as even more followed. "SIEZE THE GATE!"
Simon grasped his mage staff with both gnarled, ancient palms as more bolts of power crackled and surged. Pointing it upward, his defiance was a booming shout as the men charged forward.
"You…SHALL NOT PASS!"
Slamming his staff into the rune lines of the magic circle, the conflicting energies drew upon themselves, creating a cascade of power.
The resulting explosion not only consumed Simon in a flash of light, but the entirety of the transport gate and several city blocks. The magical shockwave blew men off their feet outside, others were simply killed by the released energies, their bodies broken or disintegrated as the expanding ball of magic consumed all.
In total, Simon ended the lives of nearly eight hundred enemy soldiers and denied the greedy king his most sought prize.
Philip Ghevan's attention was immediately drawn to the magical explosion, his face instantly turning into a snarl of rage. "NO! THE GATE!" Throwing down the spyglass as the distant spires began to topple, the king was beset with rage.
"RAZE THE CITY! RAZE IT! KILL EVERY MAN AND ENSLAVE THE REST!" Cursing and throwing a fit outside his tent as Kalm burned, the king kicked a lowly servant, beating the boy mercilessly.
His officers and retainers did nothing to help the young man, fearing the wrath of the king as they hurried to carry out his demands of slaughter, slavery and conquest.
501 H.A. October 4th, The Ghevanian Border. Near the Village of Ponte.
Men, rifles, and ammunition had continued to pour toward the front line in the last week, allowing more men and women to take up the role of riflemen. Fox folk and wolfmen…half orcs and elves mixed in with humans of all tones and sizes guarded the border along miles and miles of hastily dug lines.
Barely fifty feet away the churning river of Ponte rushed and gushed, its current more than enough to drown a man who fell in. Nearly two hundred fifty feet wide, the water was a crystal blue, fed from the nearby mountains to the south.
The forest along the bank had been hacked away. Not only to help build defenses for the riflemen, but to create lines of visibility for the soldiers. Then of course, secondary trench lines and supporting trenches stretched to the rear as supplies continued to flow in from Valos and Basil.
Sitting on a crate of spare ammunition as nearby soldiers watched the far bank, Bisca leaned back against the logged wall of the trench line. Adjusting her hat, the surprisingly hot day beat down on them all.
"Is it always this boring?" Vera asked, the dark elf sitting across from her friend. With legs crossed and her two swords sheathed, she really had no desire to put in any further effort.
"It can be. But we also could have gone with the forest elves to perform reconnaissance if somebody hadn't thrown a fit" Adding those last words with hints of annoyance, Bisca cast her light glare toward Celeste who was standing upright, watching the far bank.
Celeste slightly turned, her gaze and smile filled with mirth as her blonde locks wafted like grain. "Miss Bisca. I cannot allow you to risk yourself on such a mission. There are plenty of men and women well suited to the task. You are far too valuable, and I would prefer if you waited at the rear with the general and his staff"
"Like hell you could make me do that" Bisca huffed out. Unslinging her lancer rifle, she began to inspect it, making sure the weapon was ready for another battle.
"Still. Celeste has a point. Your needed to defeat the demon king, not some mad man that will ultimately lose this war" Dia Stormclaw voiced as well, the feline mage leaning against the trench wall as several soldiers stood nearby.
"Don't you start" Mumbling to herself as the sun continued to beat down, half an hour passed in relative silence as thousands of men and women simply waited for the coming enemy.
A few shouts of alarm began to rise nearby, several rifle men pointing across the river. Swiftly standing to her feet, Bisca stepped onto the firing step to assess the situation.
A group of elves were rushing across the Ponte Bridge, the stone weathered and gray under the blazing sun. Running swift and low, the wood elves practically fell into the trench as they tried to gasp.
"The…the enemy is coming! T..twenty thousand strong! I must inform the general!" Pushing off the wall, the male elf and his troops sprinted to the rear.
"YOU HEARD HIM! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!" Bisca roared out as she swung out her longshot. Resting the rifle on a log covered by earth, several thousand beastmen, male and females did the same as they watched and waited.
Dia gulped nervously, not wanting to revisit the hell this battle would become. Hand clutching her staff lightly, the purple haired feline tried to maintain composure.
"Dia…it's okay to be scared. Just don't let it control you. Remember, they want to defile and kill you…to enslave. These men do not deserve your mercy" Bisca worded, the emerald haired hero looking her way for a moment before recasting her gaze across the nearby bridge.
Dia breathed deeply, the words slightly calming as the sounds of marching men soon echoed from the west.
The march toward the East had been swift. First through the conquered lands and burnt towns, then through Ghevan itself. Throngs of citizens treated the men as heroes, their cheers increasing an already high morale.
Bellies were full, units replenished from the reserve and the men eager to bring the Bantil army to the sword.
Having entered the forest two days prior from three separate routes, the split forces had done their best to get a proper lay of the land as canopies of trees provided a means of shade.
For his part, General Almiss was not an egotistical officer nor a fool. While some had dismissed the rumors of advanced weapons, he could not. As a military man, the mere possibility of advanced firearms had filled him with curiosity, but dread as well.
Securing them was a top priority.
Unfortunately, any plans to flank the Bantill army had been thwarted by the simple fact every single bridge spanning the river had been burned or destroyed. His scouts had informed him that the bridge at Ponte still stood...along with the enemy army dug in and waiting.
Ordering a general halt a few hundred yards from the river, he studied a hasty map, the rough paper not exactly to standards.
"I want a deployment along the entire river. Saturate the enemy with a constant arrow barrage as the earth mages create several bridgeheads at four crossings. The main assault will be the bridge itself but let the commanders know not to let up on their assault. I want the sun to be blotted out by our archers and for the enemy to be divided against assault formations" Pointing toward the crossing, Almiss carried a harsh scowl. "Make sure to seize those weapons, the more the better. Once we pierce the lines, we reform and push toward Augith, understand?"
"Sir" Several men nodded, the officers understanding the battle plan.
His orders heard, the men soon started to push forward, their march along the dirt road swift and true. The rushing water and churning river cut through the land, almost tranquil as his men began to deploy to the north and south along the embankment.
His archers lined the bank, their effective range just enough to reach the other side as spear and sword men stood ready to exploit the crossing.
Mages held their staffs high, their mastery of Earth magic more than enough to move stone and soil for the main army.
Riding into the middle of the road upon his steed, Almiss was easily identified among his men under the foliage. Leaves rustled, the October day almost serene. Shimmering plate armor, a fine silken hat with a feather and his well made sword practically screamed 'officer'. Casting his gaze upon the distant river, the general simply waited for the attack to begin.
The earth rumbled, the mages staffs glowing with power as the first plateaus of rock began to rise from the river.
Cracking thunder like the end of the world broke among his troops as hundreds fell like wheat before the scythe. Men screamed, the wounded falling with shattered limbs and rendered torsos. His mages were swatted away like flies, only one managing to create an artificial bridge in time. Their broken bodies fell among the banks and underbrush, many simply missing their heads as continued rifle fire snapped and crashed into tree trunks and soft flesh.
A second volley of fire erupted from the far bank, enacting a near equal slaughter of lives as spearmen, archers and swordmen fell in staggered heaps, their screams and howls adding to the sudden carnage.
"LOOSE ARROWS AND STORM THE BRIDGE!" General Almiss roared, his eyes wide with horror as yet a third massed volley from the Bantillian army slew lives like a reaper.
In the first minute of the battle, he had no doubt lost at a few thousand men…and the number was rising with each shattering volley.
"The reports didn't do these new weapons just—" A bullet smashed into the tree nearby, splintering wood shards as his horse neighed in fear. Quickly dismounting, the general took refuge behind a tree as more bullets smashed wood to splinters. Several nearby assistants screamed, one clutching the bloody mess of his arm that became severed at the elbow.
Colonel Dirkland's head exploded, a showering of gore that spattered nearby men as the confusion tried to set in among the terrible fire.
"TAKE COVER YOU FOOLS!" Another smashing of wood thudded into the tree, saving his life as Almiss tried to assess the situation.
Blooms of fire and surges of electricity crashed into his men from several points, adding to the chaos as his troops tried to push forward across the bridges.
They were dropping like flies.
"Fall back and regroup! Fall back!" Almiss roared out, his voice a raw shout amongst the thunder of war and battle.
Unknown to the general, his officers had been gutted in the first thirty seconds by elven sharpshooters. The Captains and Sergeants that would normally lead troops were dead or wounded, their last orders to advance the only ones received. Easily identified due to their plate armor, stylized helmets and equipment, those men had paid a dreadful price as rifle fire poured across the river.
"KEEP FIRING!" Bisca roared, the sound a deafening roar as nearly five thousand rifle regiments fired and fired, the bullets snapping across the river.
Attempting to find the enemy general, she let out a grunt of annoyance as the mounted officer had disappeared from her sights.
"Can't believe I missed that flashy bastard" the words were instantly drowned out by the shattering noise of gunfire, not that Bisca intended them to matter. Shifting her aim toward the bridge, the span was a hellscape of rounds smashing into spearmen trying to push into the deadly hail. Hundreds were already slain, their blood slick and running as more tried to march over the fallen. They too were cut down, the concentration of fire not allowing advancement…only maiming and death.
Men screamed and howled…others burned or pulled at charred flesh as the mages cast spell after spell, enacting more horror upon the invaders.
"FIREBALL!" Dia shouted, her staff blooming a flare of magic that slew above the river to land among a knot of archers. Bodies were cast aside like rag dolls, limbs and men simply tossed as surges of electricity, acid and ice created even more devastation.
If there were Ghevanian mages left, they no doubt had long since fled.
"By the guiding light of Lanis, I will not let evil scour this land!" Celeste yelled, the holy knight temporarily manning a rifle next to Vera. The weapon slammed against her shimmering shoulder pauldron, spitting another round to no doubt fell a foe.
Bisca barely heard the statement, but it did make her smirk. Working the bolt of her longshot, the empty brass flung away in a spin as she slammed another into the breech. Peering through the scope of her weapon, the image of a swordman bloomed in magnification. He was trying to march over the fallen, his comrades dying around him as the unit of spearmen tried to push forward across the bridge.
"Your life is mine to take…" A squeeze of the trigger ended the man's life, the round punching through his throat in a crimson spray. Collapsing in a pile, the body was trampled as more spearmen tried to advance…but it was futile against such massed firepower.
For an hour, the Ghevanian's tried to cross the river at Ponte and their artificial rock bridge, but the unending rifle fire from the defenders was so one sided that the retreat should have occurred sooner. But in the end, no army could take those losses in officers and men for no gain.
The forward battalions and regiments broke, some suffering nearly eighty percent dead or wounded as their shattered lines simply melted under constant fire. Men began to fall back, first retreating…then running.
"THEY'RE BREAKING! LET'S MAKE THEM FEAR OUR RESOLVE!" Shouting until her voice was raw, Bisca climbed upward, leaving the trench as her three companions did the same. Unslinging her lancer rifle, the nearby troops began to advance with glistening bayonets. Taking a knee, she fired a long burst into the retreating backs of men, several toppling as they suddenly screamed or died under the snapping fusillade.
"ROUT THEM! KILL EVERY ONE OF THE BASTARDS!" A wolf-woman shouted, her bray of urging bringing more troops forward. Skewering a wounded Ghevanian that lay upon the bridge, the man let out a gurgled cry as the Bantillian's fired and advanced…fired and advanced.
"FORWARD! ALL UNITS ADVANCE!" General Greenleaf shouted from his white steed, the elven man raising his shimmering sword as he strode forward, his silken hair flowing upon the breeze.
A throating roar of a battle cry erupted along the line, thousands of troops pushing across the river to chase and break the enemy. Well supplied and with morale high, the force of nearly fifteen thousand Bantillian and Valos troops washed over the stragglers in a merciless slaughter.
Night had fallen, but General Almiss didn't dare stop.
His army had been nearly shattered, the devastating firepower of the Bantill forces breaking whole units. Regiments were gone, melted down to the strength of battalions or mere companies. It was only through sheer willpower and his leadership that his army hadn't broken completely.
But what was left…
"Half…half my men are gone. Just…gone"
The loss of the battle at the border had broken morale. His ragged line of retreating men only saved by the fall of night. Walking wounded tried to keep up…some expiring and just rolled to the side of the road.
Of course he had sent messengers to the king, begging for the rest of the army to abandon Kalm. If they didn't, Gantill could fall within the week.
His only hope for the capital and his own life was to fortify the city in time and convince the king of a cease fire.
"Keep marching, men! We must reach Gantill!" Waving his sword under the twin moons of the October night, he tried to push the terror, loss and humiliation away.
Hell, he didn't even have his horse anymore.
There was no cheer or mass roar of battle-cry's.
Just beaten and demoralized men trying to reach the capital before the enemy overwhelmed them all.
501 H.A. October 10th, Ghevan/Haveron Border City of Frenn
The Holy City of Kalm had been put to the sword, the ancient temples, cathedrals and homes of the citizens burned. Those who weren't killed in the razing had been captured and enslaved, a most hellish fate for the women who were often forced to service angry, brutish men in an unending nightmare of rape and abuse.
But the real injustice for the retreating men was the sudden declarations of war from the coastal countries of Hastings and the Kingdom of Fayrn. While each of them was small, their combined forces could reach nearly twenty five thousand men, a sizable army.
Scouts had already spotted them along the main road to Triggarnick, their haste even surprising King Phillip.
Then, on top of that, there was the second loss against Bantill, a crippling of his Eastern armies.
Snarling in crimson rage as he steered his horse through the ruins of Frenn, King Phillip Ghevan led his army through the rubble choked streets.
Obviously, there were no citizens left as the slaves had been taken while the rest fled or killed. All that remained was rats and death, the stink of decaying bodies an unpleasant order. Wrinkling his nose, Phillip turned toward one of his generals who rode beside him.
"Once we reach the capital, I want the men to prepare for a siege. Use any slaves to hasten construction or to use as fodder for the enemy. We will overcome this setback and win this war yet" Uttering the words through clenched teeth, the king barely contained his anger as thoughts raced through his dark mind.
"Of course, sire. I have also sent messengers to your son's forces to the south. I've yet to hear word, but reinforcements will arrive once he abandons the siege of Kanvil"
"Good. It's a fool's errand to try and take that city anyway. We'll need those men" Scowling, Phillip looked Eastward, almost willing Gantill into view. Continuing to ride, the sky began to darken, the threat of rain rising as the main army trudged and marched, pursued by the righteous wrath of several kingdoms for their crimes.
501 H.A. October 19th. Ghevanian Capital of Gantill
The looming walls of stone surrounded the enemy city, towering more than thirty feet as the tens of thousands of men waited inside. The gates were closed, no doubt barricaded by slaves and citizens as archers and lookouts watched the combined army take up sieging positions among the rolling hills that dotted the landscape and lined the river valley.
Walking past the row of recently arrived cannon, Bisca didn't take the time to marvel at their rapid construction or the hastily trained crews. All she knew was that those Gnomes in Augith had once again pulled a miracle of construction off.
"FIRE!"
The blast of cannon made the weapons lightly roll backward as the waft of gunpowder tickled her nose. Watching as the iron balls smashed against the stone walls of the city, her rage only grew.
Kalm had been razed, a butchery that led to thousands upon thousands of deaths. The atrocities were already terrible, but the loss of the transport gate, the one she needed to reach Lanis…it was gone.
It had been the path home. Now, it was ash and ruin.
Looking over to Celeste, the holy knight was silent and brooding, the news still fresh in her mind.
"Damn him…DAMN HIM! THAT WAS MY WAY HOME!" Roaring out her rage, Bisca's magic instantly skyrocketed as she formed a long, tube like weapon that glowed a bright green. Resting upon her right shoulder, Bisca's anger only grew as the end started to emit a sickly emerald. "FUCKING PRICKS! YOU WANT WAR!? I'LL GIVE YOU WAR!"
A pulsing stab of green magical light erupted from the weapon, searing across the land in a flash. Smashing into the large gates of the city, they simply could not contend with the concentrated magical power brought upon them. Buckling with a groan of gnarled hinges, the gates collapsed into the city, the heavy wood already enflamed.
Breathing deeply as sweat began to pool from the taxing use of her magical reserves, the gun mage managed to push past the sudden exhaustion.
"ATTACK! KILL ALL OF THESE BUTCHERS!" Bisca howled, the sudden breach of the city gates spurning on the allied armies. Turning, she grabbed Celeste by the arm and yanked her to her feet.
"Kalm may be gone, but the bastards aren't! Help me kill them all!" Giving the knight a shove, Celeste stumbled, but quickly found her resolve.
"Yes…for our goddess. Her desire for justice burns in my heart" Drawing her sword, the woman began to pray as the infantry began to push toward the city.
"Vera! Dia! Let's go and kill these assholes!" Cradling her lancer, Bisca rushed toward the front, the cheers of men and women spotting the hero as the roars of battle grew.
"Yeah…I'm not in a forgiving mood anyway" The dark elf promised, the stories and tales of atrocities at Kalm and other cities enraging the dark elf and thousands of troops.
Arrows began to rain down from the city's parapet, the archers doing their best to try and stem the tide. Some hit targets, men and women screaming as their flesh was pierced. But there was little gain to such actions as the breeched gates provided a path toward the heart of the Ghevanian capital.
Running low and swift with her three comrades, Bisca was flanked by hundreds of riflemen imitating her sprint. Some fell under fresh barrages of arrows, the shafts skewering limbs and torsos. One sparked off her chestpiece, sliding toward the roadway.
"FORWARD! AS FAST AS YOU CAN!" Running, Bisca's heart began to pound in her ears as she reached the archway of the city.
A mass of swordmen were rushing forward, their blades drawn to hack and kill.
"Electric Bolt!" Dia shouted, the black mage pointing her staff as a snapping surge of electricity suddenly flew. Men screamed and blackened, skin charred as Bisca took a knee near broken bits of the gate. Firing off a full magazine, the bullets stitched across a dozen men, their howls drowned out by more men and women doing the same.
Stenches of cordite and gunpowder filled the air, a symphony of war as the forward companies carved a deadly path past the gates.
"INTO THE CITY!" A wolfman cried, the furred captain sticking a Ghevan solider with his bayonet. Pulling the weapon free as crimson dripped from the blade, the warrior fired at the next enemy, causing another death as blood sprayed.
"I WILL PROTECT THE HERO! NO MATTER THE COST!" Roaring as she swung her blade, Celeste cleaved a man's head from his neck, a spray of crimson splattering her cheeks and breastplate. Spinning, she parried a strike from another, only for the man to be shot dead by Bisca.
Pushing along the central road along that flanked the main river, the advancing troops passed the rows of shops and stores to enter the slave market. Ghevanian guards rushed forward by the hundreds, their blades sheening under the sun as they unleashed an unbridled roar of rage.
A full company of riflemen took a knee and fired, the harsh crack of rounds mixing in with the stink of cordite, fear, and loosened bowels. Men fell by the dozens, their bodies ruined by lead and shot. Killing five men in rapid succession, Bisca moved forward as the rifle troops fired again, putting more hell into the air.
The swordmen broke, running in fear…not that the Bantillians would allow that. Fusillades erupted along the road, bowling over dozens more as limbs and flesh were ripped and sundered. The wounded cried and flailed, some falling into the churning river to drown.
Activating her chainsaw, Bisca pushed the spinning blades into the back of a wounded man, the spurting gore and blood covering her greaves as others bayoneted the wounded without mercy.
"Keep pushing forward! Clear every street and alleyway of these vile men!" An elf yelled. Taking cover behind a pile of crates, he fired upward at a roof, killing an archer who pitched over with a death wail.
Moving swiftly along several structures that advertised slaves and brothel women for sale, choking ash, the stench of blood and fear permeated the air as several companies fanned out to secure this latest sector.
Female screams came from the closest building, along with harsh, guttural tones. Tightening her grip as her team and several other soldiers stacked up along the wall, the gun mage heard another shrill pitch of terror from inside.
"Allow me, Miss Bisca. Yayyah!" Swinging her sword in one deft cut, Celeste sliced the door in half. Storming the three story structure, Bisca instantly recognized the stench of fear, sex and violence that had taken place here.
Approximately two dozen women in filthy rags or wearing nothing crowded in the corner, fear and terror in their eyes as a pudgy, overweight man in lavish clothes raised his hand to strike a woman who was bleeding at the lip.
"When I command you to be silent…YOU BE SILENT!" slapping the young redhead, she fell to the floor with a cry. Turning, the fat merchant slowly smiled, his eye catching many men among the soldiers that stormed the brothel.
"How about it? Some fresh slaves from Kalm and you let me go? I know you men would just love some women to service you all after a hard journey" Smiling sickly, his eyes studied Bisca and her three companions. "Yeah….I can tell your all whor—"
Bisca shot him in the stomach, the slaver suddenly doubling over with a scream. Collapsing, he tried to grasp the wound, his cries of anguish filling the vile hall of rape and beatings.
Stepping on his back, Bisca's voice was deadly cold as she once again flipped the switch on her lancer rifle. "This world has no place for rapist trash" Plunging the screaming teeth into the fat man's back, his howls rang and echoed off the walls as gore and viscera sprayed across her boots. Ripping the weapon free, she kicked the man as her gaze fell upon the slaves.
"Make sure they're treated as victims. Food, water, and clothes" Leaving the structure, flecks of red swam at Bisca's vision, her heartbeat thumping and thudding in her ears as the battle for the city raged.
The sight of those slaves had enraged her…pushing her mind over the edge once more.
"WHORE! I'LL KILL YOU! GET HER MEN!" A small group of spearman shouted as they erupted from a side alley. Grinning savagely, each of them were dirty and covered with specks of blood and ash.
The hero moved automatically, her eyes only seeing monsters that needed to be exterminated. Shooting two of them dead with headshots, she slid past the jutting spear as her lancer's teeth screamed for new flesh.
"DIE SLAVER SCUM!" Fully enraged as the whole street became a crimson tint of red, Bisca plunged the churning teeth into the clavicle of the spearman, his howls of agony lost upon the woman as she cut through his shoulder and torso in an orgy of violence. Pulling the churning teeth free, she fired off the rest of her magazine into the bunched men, killing five more. Rapidly switching magazines, she killed another three in as many seconds, their blood soaking the marketplace as two lay upon the street, their lifeblood ebbing and flowing.
"Monsters…MONSTERS!" Forgetting she was fighting humans, the emerald haired female continued to kill and butcher, her fury and bloodlust adding to her psychosis. Running a fleeing swordman through with her lancer, she lifted him above her head as the chainsaw ripped into his intestines and entrails. A shower of gore rained down, covering the woman in red as the thudding in her ears pulsed with each kill.
"She's having another episode! We can't loose sight of Bisca! Electric Bolt!" Firing off another spell as rifle men fired down a sidestreet at a rushing platoon, Dia killed another five men as their bodies convulsed and smoked with popping electricity. Watching as Bisca shot another enemy dead, the feline mage didn't have time to be horrified at the exploding head or crumpled bodies lying in the road.
"Yehaaa!" Vera cried out, the dark elf splitting a swordman in half. Blood spattered, soaking the female as splashes of red covered her combat leathers. Spinning in a half circle as another enemy ran to attack, she blocked then killed with rapid movements of her blades.
Celeste ran forward, her holy blade shimmering with blessed light. Joining Bisca, she cut an enemy soldier in half, the two pieces sliding away as her blonde hair flowed like an angel. More deafening gunfire erupted from Bisca's weapon, the hero killing with an unhinged brutality as more men and women fought into the city.
"Miss Bisca! You must calm down!" Pushing the emerald haired woman against a wall, Celeste made sure to block and restrain her arms.
Seething as her chest rose and fell behind her armor, recognition finally began to ebb in her vision. The flecks of red and pulsing heartbeats faded, leaving Bisca standing there with splatters of gore and blood running down her chest-piece.
Thunderous gunfire erupted everywhere, the advanced weapons more than enough to neutralize any Ghevan unit as the allied forces pushed further into the city. Fires were already burning out of control, the invaders besetting the capital as civilians screamed and fled.
"I'm…I'm fine" Snapping the words, she pushed Celeste away as her gaze fell upon the towering keep of the Ghevan king. Looming to the north, part of it was already hidden by billows of smoke, not that a little fire would deter the hero from enacting her revenge.
"Charge! We cannot let these vile invaders sully our land and people with liberty and equality!" Several full companies of swordmen unleashed war cries, their blades raised and ready as they ran down the large market road from the north.
Summoning some of her magic, Bisca knew she had to use it sparingly, but there would be enough for these bastards. Creating a magical scorcher that glowed an emerald green, she stepped forward as nearby Bantillian forces fired upon the charging men.
"DIA! Put some fire into their bellies! MAGIC SCHORCHER!" yelling as emblazoned, high heated magic erupted from the nozzle, the spurt of deadly magic washed over the front ranks of the charging men, engulfing them in a hellish light.
"Fireball!" Lending her own efforts, the feline mage tried not to think about the death and destruction she caused. The ball of fire landed, blowing up and tossing nearly a dozen who cried in torment and agony from fresh burns.
Waving the flaming magic over the front ranks from left to right, men withered and died, their flesh melting from bones as their horror became realized.
"Keep firing men and support the hero! These beasts deserve no mercy from us!" An officer yelled as he kneeled and fired into the enflamed ranks. Working the bolt, his company fired into the mass as the hero continued to use her magical strength to burn men alive.
"Acid Arrow!" Dia yelled over the screams, the black mage trying not to inhale the horrid stench of charred flesh as the greenish bolt of melting magic flashed from her staff to kill the enemy captain. His body fell, the acid eating away at flesh and bone.
"Keep firing!" A constant stream of bullets flew, the working bolts spitting spent brass and feeding the hungry war for more lives as Bisca continued to push more magical strength into killing and charring the enemy.
Finally, the charge broke. Leaving a twisted blanket of broken bodies, magical fires, and burnt skin in the street as the survivors turned and fled…only to be shot in the back by uncaring Bantillian men and women.
"To the castle! I'm gonna kill the king himself!" Bisca shouted. Stomping the head of a crawling man beneath her boot, the crunching brain matter and gore just added to her hellish visage as her gaze locked onto the towering keep located in the center of the city.
Hiding any visible signs of exhaustion from the magic used today, Bisca took a deep breath and began to walk, her lancer raised to counter any fresh threat. Feeling the gaze of her three comrades, she ignored the looks, her only concern in making the king pay with his life.
"Follow the hero! Take the castle!" Several half-orcs yelled, their voices a harsh gnarl of sound. Firing into a surging mass of spearmen from a side alley, the half orcs and their parent company cut them down as the battle quickly descended into harsh street fighting.
Gantill burned.
Whole swathes of the city were engulfed in flames as his army fought, bled and died in the streets. The city walls were broken, destroyed by the hero and cannon. Screams of terror rose from the common citizens, many facing the wrath of half a dozen nations who enacted a brutal revenge.
Then of course…the slaves had been freed. Liberated and taking up sword, axe or club against the Ghevan brutes. Women forced into servitude had hacked and chopped their tormentors, a brutal fate for hundreds as the roar of battle continued throughout the capital.
Now?
Now the castle was surrounded as his men tried to hopelessly fight against the power of his enemies.
King Phillip knew it wouldn't be long now. Sitting upon his throne, the vile ruler only felt anger and hatred toward the hero who had caused this downfall of his great kingdom. Years of conquest and absorbing inferior nations had become unraveled in a few months, and all because of a hero.
A female nonetheless.
"What the hell is a hero doing here anyway? Shouldn't she be with that pathetic rabble training to fight the demon king?" Grinding his teeth in anger, the man clutched the magical stone in his hand as a nearby explosion rocked the outer gate.
Looking down at the clear stone that shimmered with a soft light, he knew it wouldn't kill the hero, but dammit, at least it would fuck her over. Having been taken from a conquered kingdom years ago, it had been assessed as an 'Emergency Transport Stone' But where it led was a mystery as the mage who crafted it was unknown.
That hellish gunfire erupted among sounds of slaughter and yelling, meaning the outer hall had been breeched.
Sighing, Phillip grasped his sword and stood, intending to at least fight to the end.
More screams and cracking gunfire erupted from the next hall, the sounds muffled by stone and mortar.
The door suddenly exploded, a fireball blowing away splinters of charred wood and ash.
"King…Ghevan…" A woman uttered as she stood with three other females, each spattered with gore and blood.
His assessment was rapid, taking in every detail of the four, especially the one that spoke. Her hair was green and flowing from underneath a brimmed hat while copious amounts of red and ichor covered most of her armor. Some still slid and slopped like rivers, but the disconcerting detail was her eyes.
Hate filled eyes that seemed to glow with unbridled anger.
"You look positively demonic…hero" the king grinned, hating and approving at the same time. This woman was a killer…ferocious and not afraid to do the hard job.
"Yeah. I've noticed" Stepping forward, droplets of gore dripped from her weapon, the strange rifle adding to her nightmare.
"I suppose you want my surrender? To beg for mercy?" Phillip inquired as he raised his sword in one hand and the magical stone in the other.
"Not really. I just want to kill you for making my journey more difficult"
"Well…in that case…BE GONE!" Throwing the magic stone, the king took the first two steps forward as his desire to cut down the female rose.
Bisca quickly shot him in the face, blowing apart his head in a splintering of bone fragments and brain matter. Sword clanging to the floor as his body dropped with a loosening of bowels, the magical stone struck the hard flooring at the feet of the four, smashing into shards.
"Awe…shit" Bisca uttered as a pulsing, white light consumed all four. Engulfed, the hero and her party disappeared right before the eyes of several soldiers, leaving the kings chambers devoid of life.
Unknown Location
The pain was agonizing. Convulsing, mind ripping agony that unleashed throating screams of torment from Vera and the other three as they landed.
"AAAAAHHHHHH! IT HURTSSS!" Dia shouted, her feminine voice cracking as errant strands of white electricity slew across her body.
"Just…just like the first time!" Bisca stated through clenched teeth as she rolled onto her side. Unleashing another howl, the gunmage tried to suppress the flaring nerves across her body to little effect.
"By the mercy of Lanis!" Celeste howled, then coughed as the agony finally started to abate after a full minute of thrashing. Simply laying on her back for another few minutes as her mind tried to realign itself, the four women lay prone with pained, labored breaths.
"Wha…what the fuck was that?" Bisca asked as she slowly rose, clutching her head.
"Emergency transport stone. Didn't know they were supposed to hurt like this though…Actually…they don't. This one might have been defective or simply too old" Dia explained as she tried to pick herself up. Failing the first time, she finally stood on wobbly legs. Finally taking a shaky breath, the woman finally noticed the low light and copious amounts of dust around them.
"Where are we? What is this place?" Celeste inquired, her nerves still flaring as she looked around in confusion.
Walls of ancient stone surrounded them, most covered in dust and cobwebs as a few rusting torch holders hung simply. The room was standard, nearly twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide as the ceiling above was devoid of any markings. A single door loomed at the far end leading to a hallway of equally ancient stonework.
Taking a step, Vera instantly felt the crunch of loose dust. Looking down, the floor was covered with a light coating of sand or dirt along with what looked like an ancient magic circle.
"Probably the anchor for the stone. Which is pointless now" Dia quickly assessed as the old runes and symbols were a mystery to her. Kicking some sand slightly, the feline was really just happy to be alive after all that.
"There's a body" Bisca informed, the woman quickly moving toward the corner. Crouching down as the others crowded around, Vera scrunched her nose.
"Ew"
"You're complaining now? I saw you cleave a man in half today"
"That's different" the dark elf huffed with a snort of air. "He was obviously a bad guy"
"Whatever" Turning back, Bisca found there really wasn't much to observe. Old, ratty clothes, a rusting sword and helmet along with a simple pouch lay near the skeleton. Whatever flesh and muscle had been present rotted away long ago. Now just bleached bones remained.
"Whoever this was, he's been dead a very long time" Celeste stated with a simple observation.
Taking the old, tanned pouch, Bisca found the material still in good condition. Shrugging to herself, she tied it to her ammo belt and dropped a few spare rifle rounds inside just for the sake of use. Not thinking any more of the small find, Bisca tried to wipe some of the blood from her cheeks as the coppery stink flooded her nostrils.
"Miss Bisca? I suggest we take the time to rest, eat and drink. There is no telling where we are and pushing ourselves after hours of fighting could be dangerous"
"Good idea. We'll have some rations then two of us take first watch as the others sleep. Four hour shifts. After that, we start looking for a wa—"
The sudden, bellowing roar rumbled the cavern and adjoining hallway, causing a few bits of dust to rain down on each woman.
"What was that!?" Vera cried out, her voice echoing with bits of fear as she gripped her blades in readiness.
"Nothing good. Okay, new plan. We don't rest and try to find whatever that thing is and kill it" Double checking her rifle, Bisca knew she was tired…same with all of the others. But taking a break when some deranged monster was here with them?
That was just asking to get killed.
"Let's go" Walking toward the lone doorway with a crunch of boots, the four women soon passed through the doorway to face a new horror among the ancient stone hallways and rooms beyond.
Well, I think that's a good point to end the chapter. Also, I realize there were minor time jumps but I doubt anybody wanted to read about amassing army logistics and troop movements. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this shorter chapter!
Thehappy