Chapter 460
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Chapter 460
So engrossed in watching the battle between Experts, Gen didnt even realize the Imperials had moved until the arrows fell upon his people. Form ranks! he shouted, for all the good it did him, because the tribal savages were too stupid to understand basic Common. While his huntsmen fell in line around him beneath the hail of projectiles, the idiot Defiled riders were already riding at the Bekhai archers, whooping and hollering as they stretched their line thin in their eagerness to spill blood. Unwilling to sit still and be left behind, Gen hollered, Spears at the ready. Arrows continued falling amongst his huntsmen, no doubt targeted due to their armour and bows, but Gen paid no mind to the losses. Difficult as it was to replace them, it would be much easier to train new huntsmen if he could get his hands on those Bekhai crossbows, which out-ranged his weapons by a fair margin. Charge! Putting heel to his stupid gajashia, Gen drove his huntsmen across the field towards Falling Rain, for the amber-eyed bastard had finally revealed himself after all this time, standing atop his giant weasel with bow in hand.
Come, Baledagh, Gen thought. The time for reckoning is upon us.
Oh, what a good line, he should say it out loud before their fateful duel.
A mere three-hundred meters separated Gen from his vengeance, but it was a distance Falling Rain used to full advantage. Volley after volley fell upon the huntsmen, fired with frightening accuracy by the Bekhai archers standing on their mounts. Even though they were his enemy, Gen marvelled at their skill with the bow, for it was no easy task to fire one even on solid ground, yet the Bekhai loosed their arrows with frightening speed, power, and accuracy without putting undue stress on their animals. While not as terrifying as the recurve longbows, the crossbows were powerful enough to bring down a charging gajashia, though their rate of fire left much to be desired. It was still better than nothing since Huntsmen and Defiled alike took casualties from the storm of arrows, but it was merely a drop in the bucket considering their numbers. Ten-thousand gajashias bore down on the two-hundred odd Bekhai, and even if every bolt and arrow struck true and scored a kill, Gens cavalry would still outnumber their Imperial counterparts by more than two to one.
But first, Falling Rain would die.
Two-hundred meters, one-hundred meters, then fifty and closing, the Bekhai held firm until a scant thirty meters separated them from the oncoming gajashias, and then...
They fled.
Cowards! Gen howled, furious to see his foe retreat before him. Stand and fight! At the sound of his voice, Falling Rain straightened up and narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd in search of Gen, but still he continued to flee. Raising his bow with a snarl, he fired arrow after arrow at the charging Defiled and scattered his shots amidst Gens huntsmen in the faint hopes of getting lucky. It seemed as if the thought of facing him in single combat had unnerved the amber-eyed runt, but even if his aim were true, it would take more than an arrow to kill Gen while he wore his Runic armour, though the unarmoured Defiled were not faring so well. Glancing around in search of Goujian, he realized the old man wasnt riding with them, probably hiding with the Defiled Commander after slinking back from the northern camp in defeat. A craven old fool, but his absence meant there was someone else Concealing Gen from Falling Rains eyes, so he didnt know how he could reveal himself. While a useful source of knowledge, the Confessor was far too cautious and cunning for Gens tastes, but dealing with him would have to wait until after Gen took Falling Rains head and razed Sinuji to the ground.
To his dismay, he noticed the distance between them was only growing as the Bekhai mounts sprinted away, but even if they were still thirty meters away, theyd still be too far to strike with his flames. It had to do with relative distance or something equally obtuse, but for some reason, the range of his flames were not based on the speed of the projectile but on absolute distance travelled. The further he wanted his flames to go from their point of origin, the more energy they would require, so launching one while charging at full speed could very well drain his reserves in mere seconds. He could conjure a flame and carry it with him almost indefinitely or have it travel over a hundred meters to strike a foe, but the moment he loosed his flames, its time in existence became limited. To make matters worse, Gen had never fired his bow from a mounted position and he knew he was more likely to put an arrow in the back of his gajashias head than hit the enemy, so he gritted his teeth and ordered his men to continue the charge.
On and on they went with their merry little chase, the Bekhai fleeing far and fast along the northern flank of Sinuji. As they passed the camps, the Imperial defences worked against them as the impassable trenches cut off their path of retreat. Angling to intercept, Gen bared his teeth in a grin as he imagined how they would die while Falling Rain watched helplessly from his weasel. By now, Gen estimated theyd lost at least five-hundred riders to their incessant ranged attacks, not to mention how gajashias were not made for sustained sprinting, but it would all be worth it once his forces got a hold of those damned Bekhai.
The thunder of hooves snapped Gen out of his reverie and his stomach dropped in panic. Turning towards the source of the sound, he was greeted by thousands of overlooked Imperial cavalry charging into his flank, hollering, Victory or Death! The battle-cry was soon lost as their steel lances crashed into the flesh and bone of Defiled and gajashia alike, the sound alone enough to set Gen reeling in place. The lines compacted as the Imperial charge continued forward, and he was driven aside by the press of gajashia and Defiled flesh, unable to hold fast before the wave of horse and man. Chaos erupted as their mounts stumbled and went mad with instinct, some turning to face the threat while others moving to flee, and still more were pushed or jumped to their deaths into the deep, open trenches to his right. Insulated by hundreds of bodies between him and the battle, snapping beaks and flailing weapons were the greatest threat to Gens life now, unable to do a thing to extract himself from this dire situation. Even if he ordered a retreat, there was no room to turn around, caught between the Imperial forces on his left and the cavernous trenches to his right.
And still, Falling Rain continued to loose his arrows amongst Gen and his huntsmen. From this distance, he could almost make out the hateful bastards arrogant sneer as he stood on his mount, and Gen railed at his helpless plight. Fight, he commanded, for there was nothing else he could say. Spread out and fight, you miserable savages! Even without his guidance, a group of Defiled riders broke off from the front and circled around to hit the Imperials in the flank, but before they could form up, a second wave of cavalry hammered home into them once again. No, no, no, cavalry were supposed to charge, not be charged, and especially not in the flank while they were scattered and aimless! Without the advantage of speed and mobility, mounted soldiers were just expensive, less effective infantry! Where did the Imperials get enough horses for a second detachment? Had reinforcements arrived?
No... Not reinforcements. After charging into the fray, the Imperial cavalry left a token force behind to pin the Defiled in place while a good two-thirds rode off to ready another charge. Blocked in by his allies, Gen was helpless to do anything except sit and watch as his forces were charged time and time again, incurring considerable casualties with each successive assault. The Imperial cavalry were so well coordinated, Gen could hardly believe his eyes, and even as the battle-lines spread and the charges diminished in effect, the Imperials continued to use this tactic to their advantage, rending Defiled cavalry apart piece by piece like a pack of wolves tearing into a large, helpless elk.
Imposing as these one-horned juggernauts might be, the other type of southern mount were a dozen times more terrifying. Large did not even begin to describe them, for they towered over most walls, much less warriors, bearing long, snake-like noses and four gargantuan tusks, each one honed to a point and thicker than an average warriors waist. Though there were only a mere handful of the beasts, their trumpeting could be heard across the battlefield as they trudged deep into the Defiled masses while tossing their heads this way and that, clearing the savage warriors by the dozen with every sweep of their tusks. Similarly armoured like the other southerners, their riders stood on their backs wielding titanic polearms which measured six meters long at the minimum and sported vicious, double-bladed heads. Far too unwieldy for use on foot, but atop those monstrous creatures of destruction, the southern warriors were like tigers given wings with their far-reaching weapons, scything through any Defiled who escaped the wrath of their mounts.
There were other mounted warriors interspersed among them, mostly riding horses though there were a few more exotic breeds, like rams, boars, and even one long-legged bird who seemed more deadly than its rider. The appearance of this monstrous cavalry force was not enough to turn the tide of battle, but things were looking bleak for the Defiled forces as far as the northern flank went. Why the Defiled Commander put so much emphasis here, Gen wasnt sure, but as today had already proven, he knew little of tactics and warfare. Still, he would have to help, but how?
Physically, he was still well rested, but the mental blow of losing to Falling Rain once more left him weary and worn, not to mention depleting his energy reserves was always exhausting. Regardless of the reason, he couldnt stand idly by as the Defiled were pushed back into the centre, so he fumbled for Kashs bow before realizing itd been broken in the mess they left behind. Taking a deep breath, he said, Dismount and walk the gajashias so they can rest. Well attack once theyve recovered. With help from his Transcendents of course, who were already making their way over here along with the many Spirits whod been freed from their fleshly confines and now lingered about the battlefield. Their power would become his, and while he considered them a precious resource, killing Falling Rain was a noble goal.
Only... for some strange reason, Gen felt the Spirits were hesitant to obey his call for aid, demanding he leave instead of staying to fight. Why? Why were they so difficult to work with today?
Emissary, return to your gajashia, Deng cried, just as Gens foot touched the ground. The enemy, they come for us!
Shadows flitted overhead as arrows rained down upon them, and Gen turned to see Rain and his Bekhai charging towards them. The bastard must have circled around the cavalry battle to get here, still standing atop his beast with bow in hand. Loosing one last arrow, Rain placed his bow aside and took up his glaive, pointing it at Gen with murder in his eyes. No words were exchanged, but he saw the message there, plain and simple. Today, they would fight, and one, or both would die.
Cackling in delight, Gen shoved Kash away and mounted the gajashia alone, his finger-blades stretching until they were half-a-meter long. Sacrificing all the Spirits within him, he restored his reserves to full and loosed a measured bolt of flame at his hateful enemy, praying the bastard would survive the attack because he didnt deserve a quick death. The bolt arced through the air in a fiery blaze, Guided unerringly towards its target by Gens careful focus, but as it drew near, Rain lashed out with his glaive and the bolt sputtered out and died without fanfare.
Wondering why his projectile didnt explode, Gen summoned more free-floating Spirits to join him for the battle ahead, but then Rain... rippled in place, not a physical anomaly, but a spiritual one. Much like the birth of a Transcendent, a void opened from within Falling Rain, and all of a sudden, the Spirits were no longer in control of their movements as the raging vortex drew them screaming and clawing into the void which was Falling Rain.
The Devourer comes, the Spirits cried, a thousand, thousand voices speaking as one, and from their tone, it was clear his name was synonymous with doom.
And then the Spirits spoke no more, having been cast into oblivion by Falling Rain. No Spirits within and no Spirits without, for those lucky enough to escape disaster had already fled the field while the others anchored within their Defiled hosts were scurrying to join them, leaving Gen to face his fearsome foe wholly bereft of their aid.
Oh, Heavens above... why have you forsaken your chosen son?
Chapter Meme 1
Chapter Meme 2
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Chapter 460
So engrossed in watching the battle between Experts, Gen didnt even realize the Imperials had moved until the arrows fell upon his people. Form ranks! he shouted, for all the good it did him, because the tribal savages were too stupid to understand basic Common. While his huntsmen fell in line around him beneath the hail of projectiles, the idiot Defiled riders were already riding at the Bekhai archers, whooping and hollering as they stretched their line thin in their eagerness to spill blood. Unwilling to sit still and be left behind, Gen hollered, Spears at the ready. Arrows continued falling amongst his huntsmen, no doubt targeted due to their armour and bows, but Gen paid no mind to the losses. Difficult as it was to replace them, it would be much easier to train new huntsmen if he could get his hands on those Bekhai crossbows, which out-ranged his weapons by a fair margin. Charge! Putting heel to his stupid gajashia, Gen drove his huntsmen across the field towards Falling Rain, for the amber-eyed bastard had finally revealed himself after all this time, standing atop his giant weasel with bow in hand.
Come, Baledagh, Gen thought. The time for reckoning is upon us.
Oh, what a good line, he should say it out loud before their fateful duel.
A mere three-hundred meters separated Gen from his vengeance, but it was a distance Falling Rain used to full advantage. Volley after volley fell upon the huntsmen, fired with frightening accuracy by the Bekhai archers standing on their mounts. Even though they were his enemy, Gen marvelled at their skill with the bow, for it was no easy task to fire one even on solid ground, yet the Bekhai loosed their arrows with frightening speed, power, and accuracy without putting undue stress on their animals. While not as terrifying as the recurve longbows, the crossbows were powerful enough to bring down a charging gajashia, though their rate of fire left much to be desired. It was still better than nothing since Huntsmen and Defiled alike took casualties from the storm of arrows, but it was merely a drop in the bucket considering their numbers. Ten-thousand gajashias bore down on the two-hundred odd Bekhai, and even if every bolt and arrow struck true and scored a kill, Gens cavalry would still outnumber their Imperial counterparts by more than two to one.
But first, Falling Rain would die.
Two-hundred meters, one-hundred meters, then fifty and closing, the Bekhai held firm until a scant thirty meters separated them from the oncoming gajashias, and then...
They fled.
Cowards! Gen howled, furious to see his foe retreat before him. Stand and fight! At the sound of his voice, Falling Rain straightened up and narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd in search of Gen, but still he continued to flee. Raising his bow with a snarl, he fired arrow after arrow at the charging Defiled and scattered his shots amidst Gens huntsmen in the faint hopes of getting lucky. It seemed as if the thought of facing him in single combat had unnerved the amber-eyed runt, but even if his aim were true, it would take more than an arrow to kill Gen while he wore his Runic armour, though the unarmoured Defiled were not faring so well. Glancing around in search of Goujian, he realized the old man wasnt riding with them, probably hiding with the Defiled Commander after slinking back from the northern camp in defeat. A craven old fool, but his absence meant there was someone else Concealing Gen from Falling Rains eyes, so he didnt know how he could reveal himself. While a useful source of knowledge, the Confessor was far too cautious and cunning for Gens tastes, but dealing with him would have to wait until after Gen took Falling Rains head and razed Sinuji to the ground.
To his dismay, he noticed the distance between them was only growing as the Bekhai mounts sprinted away, but even if they were still thirty meters away, theyd still be too far to strike with his flames. It had to do with relative distance or something equally obtuse, but for some reason, the range of his flames were not based on the speed of the projectile but on absolute distance travelled. The further he wanted his flames to go from their point of origin, the more energy they would require, so launching one while charging at full speed could very well drain his reserves in mere seconds. He could conjure a flame and carry it with him almost indefinitely or have it travel over a hundred meters to strike a foe, but the moment he loosed his flames, its time in existence became limited. To make matters worse, Gen had never fired his bow from a mounted position and he knew he was more likely to put an arrow in the back of his gajashias head than hit the enemy, so he gritted his teeth and ordered his men to continue the charge.
On and on they went with their merry little chase, the Bekhai fleeing far and fast along the northern flank of Sinuji. As they passed the camps, the Imperial defences worked against them as the impassable trenches cut off their path of retreat. Angling to intercept, Gen bared his teeth in a grin as he imagined how they would die while Falling Rain watched helplessly from his weasel. By now, Gen estimated theyd lost at least five-hundred riders to their incessant ranged attacks, not to mention how gajashias were not made for sustained sprinting, but it would all be worth it once his forces got a hold of those damned Bekhai.
The thunder of hooves snapped Gen out of his reverie and his stomach dropped in panic. Turning towards the source of the sound, he was greeted by thousands of overlooked Imperial cavalry charging into his flank, hollering, Victory or Death! The battle-cry was soon lost as their steel lances crashed into the flesh and bone of Defiled and gajashia alike, the sound alone enough to set Gen reeling in place. The lines compacted as the Imperial charge continued forward, and he was driven aside by the press of gajashia and Defiled flesh, unable to hold fast before the wave of horse and man. Chaos erupted as their mounts stumbled and went mad with instinct, some turning to face the threat while others moving to flee, and still more were pushed or jumped to their deaths into the deep, open trenches to his right. Insulated by hundreds of bodies between him and the battle, snapping beaks and flailing weapons were the greatest threat to Gens life now, unable to do a thing to extract himself from this dire situation. Even if he ordered a retreat, there was no room to turn around, caught between the Imperial forces on his left and the cavernous trenches to his right.
And still, Falling Rain continued to loose his arrows amongst Gen and his huntsmen. From this distance, he could almost make out the hateful bastards arrogant sneer as he stood on his mount, and Gen railed at his helpless plight. Fight, he commanded, for there was nothing else he could say. Spread out and fight, you miserable savages! Even without his guidance, a group of Defiled riders broke off from the front and circled around to hit the Imperials in the flank, but before they could form up, a second wave of cavalry hammered home into them once again. No, no, no, cavalry were supposed to charge, not be charged, and especially not in the flank while they were scattered and aimless! Without the advantage of speed and mobility, mounted soldiers were just expensive, less effective infantry! Where did the Imperials get enough horses for a second detachment? Had reinforcements arrived?
No... Not reinforcements. After charging into the fray, the Imperial cavalry left a token force behind to pin the Defiled in place while a good two-thirds rode off to ready another charge. Blocked in by his allies, Gen was helpless to do anything except sit and watch as his forces were charged time and time again, incurring considerable casualties with each successive assault. The Imperial cavalry were so well coordinated, Gen could hardly believe his eyes, and even as the battle-lines spread and the charges diminished in effect, the Imperials continued to use this tactic to their advantage, rending Defiled cavalry apart piece by piece like a pack of wolves tearing into a large, helpless elk.
Imposing as these one-horned juggernauts might be, the other type of southern mount were a dozen times more terrifying. Large did not even begin to describe them, for they towered over most walls, much less warriors, bearing long, snake-like noses and four gargantuan tusks, each one honed to a point and thicker than an average warriors waist. Though there were only a mere handful of the beasts, their trumpeting could be heard across the battlefield as they trudged deep into the Defiled masses while tossing their heads this way and that, clearing the savage warriors by the dozen with every sweep of their tusks. Similarly armoured like the other southerners, their riders stood on their backs wielding titanic polearms which measured six meters long at the minimum and sported vicious, double-bladed heads. Far too unwieldy for use on foot, but atop those monstrous creatures of destruction, the southern warriors were like tigers given wings with their far-reaching weapons, scything through any Defiled who escaped the wrath of their mounts.
There were other mounted warriors interspersed among them, mostly riding horses though there were a few more exotic breeds, like rams, boars, and even one long-legged bird who seemed more deadly than its rider. The appearance of this monstrous cavalry force was not enough to turn the tide of battle, but things were looking bleak for the Defiled forces as far as the northern flank went. Why the Defiled Commander put so much emphasis here, Gen wasnt sure, but as today had already proven, he knew little of tactics and warfare. Still, he would have to help, but how?
Physically, he was still well rested, but the mental blow of losing to Falling Rain once more left him weary and worn, not to mention depleting his energy reserves was always exhausting. Regardless of the reason, he couldnt stand idly by as the Defiled were pushed back into the centre, so he fumbled for Kashs bow before realizing itd been broken in the mess they left behind. Taking a deep breath, he said, Dismount and walk the gajashias so they can rest. Well attack once theyve recovered. With help from his Transcendents of course, who were already making their way over here along with the many Spirits whod been freed from their fleshly confines and now lingered about the battlefield. Their power would become his, and while he considered them a precious resource, killing Falling Rain was a noble goal.
Only... for some strange reason, Gen felt the Spirits were hesitant to obey his call for aid, demanding he leave instead of staying to fight. Why? Why were they so difficult to work with today?
Emissary, return to your gajashia, Deng cried, just as Gens foot touched the ground. The enemy, they come for us!
Shadows flitted overhead as arrows rained down upon them, and Gen turned to see Rain and his Bekhai charging towards them. The bastard must have circled around the cavalry battle to get here, still standing atop his beast with bow in hand. Loosing one last arrow, Rain placed his bow aside and took up his glaive, pointing it at Gen with murder in his eyes. No words were exchanged, but he saw the message there, plain and simple. Today, they would fight, and one, or both would die.
Cackling in delight, Gen shoved Kash away and mounted the gajashia alone, his finger-blades stretching until they were half-a-meter long. Sacrificing all the Spirits within him, he restored his reserves to full and loosed a measured bolt of flame at his hateful enemy, praying the bastard would survive the attack because he didnt deserve a quick death. The bolt arced through the air in a fiery blaze, Guided unerringly towards its target by Gens careful focus, but as it drew near, Rain lashed out with his glaive and the bolt sputtered out and died without fanfare.
Wondering why his projectile didnt explode, Gen summoned more free-floating Spirits to join him for the battle ahead, but then Rain... rippled in place, not a physical anomaly, but a spiritual one. Much like the birth of a Transcendent, a void opened from within Falling Rain, and all of a sudden, the Spirits were no longer in control of their movements as the raging vortex drew them screaming and clawing into the void which was Falling Rain.
The Devourer comes, the Spirits cried, a thousand, thousand voices speaking as one, and from their tone, it was clear his name was synonymous with doom.
And then the Spirits spoke no more, having been cast into oblivion by Falling Rain. No Spirits within and no Spirits without, for those lucky enough to escape disaster had already fled the field while the others anchored within their Defiled hosts were scurrying to join them, leaving Gen to face his fearsome foe wholly bereft of their aid.
Oh, Heavens above... why have you forsaken your chosen son?
Chapter Meme 1
Chapter Meme 2
Chapter 460So engrossed in watching the battle between Experts, Gen didnt even realize the Imperials had moved until the arrows fell upon his people. Form ranks! he shouted, for all the good it did him, because the tribal savages were too stupid to understand basic Common. While his huntsmen fell in line around him beneath the hail of projectiles, the idiot Defiled riders were already riding at the Bekhai archers, whooping and hollering as they stretched their line thin in their eagerness to spill blood. Unwilling to sit still and be left behind, Gen hollered, Spears at the ready. Arrows continued falling amongst his huntsmen, no doubt targeted due to their armour and bows, but Gen paid no mind to the losses. Difficult as it was to replace them, it would be much easier to train new huntsmen if he could get his hands on those Bekhai crossbows, which out-ranged his weapons by a fair margin. Charge! Putting heel to his stupid gajashia, Gen drove his huntsmen across the field towards Falling Rain, for the amber-eyed bastard had finally revealed himself after all this time, standing atop his giant weasel with bow in hand.Come, Baledagh, Gen thought. The time for reckoning is upon us.Oh, what a good line, he should say it out loud before their fateful duel.A mere three-hundred meters separated Gen from his vengeance, but it was a distance Falling Rain used to full advantage. Volley after volley fell upon the huntsmen, fired with frightening accuracy by the Bekhai archers standing on their mounts. Even though they were his enemy, Gen marvelled at their skill with the bow, for it was no easy task to fire one even on solid ground, yet the Bekhai loosed their arrows with frightening speed, power, and accuracy without putting undue stress on their animals. While not as terrifying as the recurve longbows, the crossbows were powerful enough to bring down a charging gajashia, though their rate of fire left much to be desired. It was still better than nothing since Huntsmen and Defiled alike took casualties from the storm of arrows, but it was merely a drop in the bucket considering their numbers. Ten-thousand gajashias bore down on the two-hundred odd Bekhai, and even if every bolt and arrow struck true and scored a kill, Gens cavalry would still outnumber their Imperial counterparts by more than two to one.But first, Falling Rain would die.Two-hundred meters, one-hundred meters, then fifty and closing, the Bekhai held firm until a scant thirty meters separated them from the oncoming gajashias, and then...They fled.Cowards! Gen howled, furious to see his foe retreat before him. Stand and fight! At the sound of his voice, Falling Rain straightened up and narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd in search of Gen, but still he continued to flee. Raising his bow with a snarl, he fired arrow after arrow at the charging Defiled and scattered his shots amidst Gens huntsmen in the faint hopes of getting lucky. It seemed as if the thought of facing him in single combat had unnerved the amber-eyed runt, but even if his aim were true, it would take more than an arrow to kill Gen while he wore his Runic armour, though the unarmoured Defiled were not faring so well. Glancing around in search of Goujian, he realized the old man wasnt riding with them, probably hiding with the Defiled Commander after slinking back from the northern camp in defeat. A craven old fool, but his absence meant there was someone else Concealing Gen from Falling Rains eyes, so he didnt know how he could reveal himself. While a useful source of knowledge, the Confessor was far too cautious and cunning for Gens tastes, but dealing with him would have to wait until after Gen took Falling Rains head and razed Sinuji to the ground.To his dismay, he noticed the distance between them was only growing as the Bekhai mounts sprinted away, but even if they were still thirty meters away, theyd still be too far to strike with his flames. It had to do with relative distance or something equally obtuse, but for some reason, the range of his flames were not based on the speed of the projectile but on absolute distance travelled. The further he wanted his flames to go from their point of origin, the more energy they would require, so launching one while charging at full speed could very well drain his reserves in mere seconds. He could conjure a flame and carry it with him almost indefinitely or have it travel over a hundred meters to strike a foe, but the moment he loosed his flames, its time in existence became limited. To make matters worse, Gen had never fired his bow from a mounted position and he knew he was more likely to put an arrow in the back of his gajashias head than hit the enemy, so he gritted his teeth and ordered his men to continue the charge.On and on they went with their merry little chase, the Bekhai fleeing far and fast along the northern flank of Sinuji. As they passed the camps, the Imperial defences worked against them as the impassable trenches cut off their path of retreat. Angling to intercept, Gen bared his teeth in a grin as he imagined how they would die while Falling Rain watched helplessly from his weasel. By now, Gen estimated theyd lost at least five-hundred riders to their incessant ranged attacks, not to mention how gajashias were not made for sustained sprinting, but it would all be worth it once his forces got a hold of those damned Bekhai.The thunder of hooves snapped Gen out of his reverie and his stomach dropped in panic. Turning towards the source of the sound, he was greeted by thousands of overlooked Imperial cavalry charging into his flank, hollering, Victory or Death! The battle-cry was soon lost as their steel lances crashed into the flesh and bone of Defiled and gajashia alike, the sound alone enough to set Gen reeling in place. The lines compacted as the Imperial charge continued forward, and he was driven aside by the press of gajashia and Defiled flesh, unable to hold fast before the wave of horse and man. Chaos erupted as their mounts stumbled and went mad with instinct, some turning to face the threat while others moving to flee, and still more were pushed or jumped to their deaths into the deep, open trenches to his right. Insulated by hundreds of bodies between him and the battle, snapping beaks and flailing weapons were the greatest threat to Gens life now, unable to do a thing to extract himself from this dire situation. Even if he ordered a retreat, there was no room to turn around, caught between the Imperial forces on his left and the cavernous trenches to his right.And still, Falling Rain continued to loose his arrows amongst Gen and his huntsmen. From this distance, he could almost make out the hateful bastards arrogant sneer as he stood on his mount, and Gen railed at his helpless plight. Fight, he commanded, for there was nothing else he could say. Spread out and fight, you miserable savages! Even without his guidance, a group of Defiled riders broke off from the front and circled around to hit the Imperials in the flank, but before they could form up, a second wave of cavalry hammered home into them once again. No, no, no, cavalry were supposed to charge, not be charged, and especially not in the flank while they were scattered and aimless! Without the advantage of speed and mobility, mounted soldiers were just expensive, less effective infantry! Where did the Imperials get enough horses for a second detachment? Had reinforcements arrived?No... Not reinforcements. After charging into the fray, the Imperial cavalry left a token force behind to pin the Defiled in place while a good two-thirds rode off to ready another charge. Blocked in by his allies, Gen was helpless to do anything except sit and watch as his forces were charged time and time again, incurring considerable casualties with each successive assault. The Imperial cavalry were so well coordinated, Gen could hardly believe his eyes, and even as the battle-lines spread and the charges diminished in effect, the Imperials continued to use this tactic to their advantage, rending Defiled cavalry apart piece by piece like a pack of wolves tearing into a large, helpless elk.Imposing as these one-horned juggernauts might be, the other type of southern mount were a dozen times more terrifying. Large did not even begin to describe them, for they towered over most walls, much less warriors, bearing long, snake-like noses and four gargantuan tusks, each one honed to a point and thicker than an average warriors waist. Though there were only a mere handful of the beasts, their trumpeting could be heard across the battlefield as they trudged deep into the Defiled masses while tossing their heads this way and that, clearing the savage warriors by the dozen with every sweep of their tusks. Similarly armoured like the other southerners, their riders stood on their backs wielding titanic polearms which measured six meters long at the minimum and sported vicious, double-bladed heads. Far too unwieldy for use on foot, but atop those monstrous creatures of destruction, the southern warriors were like tigers given wings with their far-reaching weapons, scything through any Defiled who escaped the wrath of their mounts.There were other mounted warriors interspersed among them, mostly riding horses though there were a few more exotic breeds, like rams, boars, and even one long-legged bird who seemed more deadly than its rider. The appearance of this monstrous cavalry force was not enough to turn the tide of battle, but things were looking bleak for the Defiled forces as far as the northern flank went. Why the Defiled Commander put so much emphasis here, Gen wasnt sure, but as today had already proven, he knew little of tactics and warfare. Still, he would have to help, but how?Physically, he was still well rested, but the mental blow of losing to Falling Rain once more left him weary and worn, not to mention depleting his energy reserves was always exhausting. Regardless of the reason, he couldnt stand idly by as the Defiled were pushed back into the centre, so he fumbled for Kashs bow before realizing itd been broken in the mess they left behind. Taking a deep breath, he said, Dismount and walk the gajashias so they can rest. Well attack once theyve recovered. With help from his Transcendents of course, who were already making their way over here along with the many Spirits whod been freed from their fleshly confines and now lingered about the battlefield. Their power would become his, and while he considered them a precious resource, killing Falling Rain was a noble goal.Only... for some strange reason, Gen felt the Spirits were hesitant to obey his call for aid, demanding he leave instead of staying to fight. Why? Why were they so difficult to work with today?Emissary, return to your gajashia, Deng cried, just as Gens foot touched the ground. The enemy, they come for us!Shadows flitted overhead as arrows rained down upon them, and Gen turned to see Rain and his Bekhai charging towards them. The bastard must have circled around the cavalry battle to get here, still standing atop his beast with bow in hand. Loosing one last arrow, Rain placed his bow aside and took up his glaive, pointing it at Gen with murder in his eyes. No words were exchanged, but he saw the message there, plain and simple. Today, they would fight, and one, or both would die.Cackling in delight, Gen shoved Kash away and mounted the gajashia alone, his finger-blades stretching until they were half-a-meter long. Sacrificing all the Spirits within him, he restored his reserves to full and loosed a measured bolt of flame at his hateful enemy, praying the bastard would survive the attack because he didnt deserve a quick death. The bolt arced through the air in a fiery blaze, Guided unerringly towards its target by Gens careful focus, but as it drew near, Rain lashed out with his glaive and the bolt sputtered out and died without fanfare.Wondering why his projectile didnt explode, Gen summoned more free-floating Spirits to join him for the battle ahead, but then Rain... rippled in place, not a physical anomaly, but a spiritual one. Much like the birth of a Transcendent, a void opened from within Falling Rain, and all of a sudden, the Spirits were no longer in control of their movements as the raging vortex drew them screaming and clawing into the void which was Falling Rain.The Devourer comes, the Spirits cried, a thousand, thousand voices speaking as one, and from their tone, it was clear his name was synonymous with doom.And then the Spirits spoke no more, having been cast into oblivion by Falling Rain. No Spirits within and no Spirits without, for those lucky enough to escape disaster had already fled the field while the others anchored within their Defiled hosts were scurrying to join them, leaving Gen to face his fearsome foe wholly bereft of their aid.Oh, Heavens above... why have you forsaken your chosen son?Chapter Meme 1Chapter Meme 2
