Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 76

The crystal-bladed axe trembled in her grip. Chaos tainted the air, the dreadful song of the ravens swarming overhead, Dark Saints carriages galloping and bounding over the rocky slopes, and above all, the chilling war cries of the approaching Drisian soldiers.

Yet Farren was swept away from reality, the deafening sounds of battle so dulled she could hear her own breathing, blood rushing into her limbs, feel the single bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck-- a sharp awareness like the first time she plunged her dagger into the undead flesh of the Vasaen back in the woods of Kinallen.

She had envisioned such a fight back in the cavern in the wall behind the waterfall, where the last remains of Dresius lay.

Farren charged into battle, movements in sync with her people. Dust flew from the many feet and hooves striking the ground, and the Miadelians emerged from the murky haze as one.

The enemy sent their mounted force ahead to encircle them in a ring, archers falling back to aim.

All Captain Walric needed was a single shouted command to arrange her battlemages. Only twenty five as they were in number, they sped forward in the formation of a deadly spearhead.

"Break!" A clear voice resonated through the plains, the flash of a gleaming sword caught in the full moon night. Xenro was the poisoned tip of the spear which drove into the enemy lines.

In battle he was but a distant star, for few could keep up with his speed. The infantrymen who clawed up from beneath at the Midaelian riders perished under his sword once he'd dismounted. One enemy down, he went for the next whilst the last one's spray of blood still hovered in the air. They closed in on him from all sides to beat him down, but Xenro got up each time, more bloodied and battered than before and still raging.

Clouds swirled overhead to shield the stars and an odd darkness fell. The more he killed, the more he hungered to kill, and his greatsword turned a murky black right down to the hilt, chunks of flesh still sticking to the wide blade. Xenro chanced a look above as the last of the infantry fell, and moonbeams flickered through the clouds to bathe him in an ethereal light. For a brief moment he seemed as though a king marching in disguise with his soldiers to the last, losing war.

Captain Walric halted for a moment to watch his rampage, torch held aloft. Farren caught up once they'd slowed down.

"That...is not how a farm boy fights his first battle," she whispered, holding onto her pendant.

Because he is no farm boy, but a God long forgotten and rejected by the heavens.

"Maybe his Da trained him well?" offered Farren.

Even as Xenro annihilated a score of the infantry single-handedly, more came marching up from beyond the slopes ahead. Tired and wounded, Xenro mounted and pulled back to the formation.

The ring of the cavalry would not yield easily. The Drisians drew back, and a faint whiff of sulphur reached their noses. The grasses at their feet rustled, the night wind blowing unnaturally warm.

"Down! Down, at once!"

Gunvald loosed a warning cry in Velan before a stream of sorcerous flames leapt forth to set the plains alight. Fire engulfed the Midaelians and rose sky-high.

✦✧✦✧

And all could have ended thus.

That was all it could have taken to wipe out this company, outnumbered and outmatched.

All there would have been left were smouldering flesh and bone, burnt crisp beyond recognition. Here would they perish, like the vampires once did in the Culling, like the Chosen Warriors did in the Great War. The clamour of the fight ceased for the moment. Embers danced upon dry grass.