A single soldier stepped from each opening, hefted a long tube onto their shoulder, and fired.
A hundred rockets blasted toward the charging legion. They detonated against the front rank less than fifty yards from the men launching them. The rocket attack staggered the charge. Hundreds more of the enemy legion were shredded or consumed in the onslaught.
While Beelzebub’s legion rallied, the shield wall closed behind the retreating rocketeers. Then, slowly, the legion marched forward. Sixty-thousand feet stomped as one as they marched into the struggling mass of darkness. The enemy creatures roared in defiance before renewing their charge, but the odds were not in their favor.
The sword and steel of Prince Seere’s legions met the tooth and claw of Beelzebub’s with a heart-stopping CRUNCH, closely followed by the sounds of metal cutting flesh.
It was a sound Gerald was well acquainted with.
***
Gerald didn’t know how long he’d been out here: weeks, months, or maybe even years. Whatever the case, life along the banks of the Styx wasn’t that bad. For one thing, it was warmer out here than in the perpetually cold city. There was also less mud. Mud was something for your feet to get stuck in. Maneuverability was the life-blood of a skirmisher. If you couldn’t move then you were as good as dead.
The city was peaceful though. The Styx was not. The days were spent watching the opposite side of the river and trying to gather intelligence on Cain’s forces. The nights were spent on watch, trying to sleep, or fending off the endless raids of Cain’s skeletal warriors.
Right now, Gerald wished it was just another raid.
The entire Third Legion, ten thousand strong, spread out in a bowed line a few hundred feet from the river bank. They’d all been rudely awakened by their commanders, hustled out of their protective Keep before dawn, and told to kill the enemy. They’d been rushed out so fast Gerald had barely been able to grab his spear.
Sometime during the night, a rickety bridge had been constructed and Cain’s forces had crossed into Seere’s lands. Now, it looked like the Third Legion was facing a full enemy legion with more reinforcements crossing the bridge every second.
Someone grabbed Gerald roughly by the shoulder. “You’ve used one of these haven’t you?”
It was Captain Icilius, and he had a musket in his hand.
Gerald smiled. “Yes, Sir.” He took the weapon he’d originally died with.
“Good. Be ready to go at my command.” The Captain stalked away ordering more muskets be distributed to his skirmishers.
He felt a twinge of fear at the thought of dying again, but quickly banished it.
If he died, he died on Seere’s lands, which meant he’d be resurrected quickly back in the safety of the city. It was the best motivation he could come up with at the moment.
Gerald made sure the musket was loaded and waited for the command.
“Open!” He recognized the Captain’s voice over the tense breathing of the gathered legion.
The legion’s shield wall parted, which Gerald took as his cue to step forward.
“Aim!”
Gerald put the musket into the groove of his right shoulder and aimed down the length of the barrel. He couldn’t put into words how good it felt to not see other people with rifles on the opposite side of the battlefield. Just corpses of bone and muscle with wicked looking blades.
Cain’s forces let out a savage cry and charged.
“FIRE!”
Gerald pulled the trigger. The musket bucked and smoke filled the air around him.
“Close!”
Gerald scrambled back, barely making it through the shields before they snapped shut with a clang. He looked back to see dozens of Cain’s soldiers fall and get trampled by the charging mass of their own legion.
Third Legion roared their defiance and braced for impact. Cain’s soldiers smashed into the first rank, driving the legionnaires back several yards before they could dig their feet in. Then they started to push back. Shields were thrust out, spears jabbed forward, and swords slashed at anything they could find. Cain’s forces screamed and died as they tried and failed to breach the wall of metal.
But something didn’t feel right to Gerald.
“The flanks!” Someone yelled.
The same area that his company of skirmishers had retreated to after firing their opening salvo.
Thankfully, muscle memory wasn’t lost as Gerald descended into Hell. His weapon was reloaded and ready to go. He aimed and fired point-blank into the face of a charging she-demon.
The woman’s head exploded, and threw her naked body back, which slowed down the next few warriors who wanted to rip out Gerald’s guts. Gerald took those few seconds to flip the musket around and swing it at the enemy. The swinging stock of the musket caught two charging half-skeletons in the face. Both went down and twitched painfully.
He didn’t have time to think. He dropped the now useless musket and grabbed the short-spear from his back. He ducked under a sword aimed for his head and thrust upward, ramming another naked, breast-less woman through the chest. She snarled and chomped at him like she wanted to eat him alive, but with a twist and pull she died and Gerald had his spear back.
By now the legion had reorganized from the surprise flanking maneuver. The Legion collapsed from a single, curved line into a box. It trapped Cain’s warriors inside so the skirmishers and legionnaires could kill them quickly. Half of Gerald’s company died in the process, but they got the job done.
The legion was completely surrounded now, but Cain’s forces made the mistake of trying to attack the legion on all sides and assault the Keep. Wooden palisades circled the stone Keep, and their sharp points impaled dozens of enemies who tried to scale them. Archer and musket fire cut down more before they even reached the wooden gate.
The Keep took the rickety bridge under cannon-fire once they were able to. Hundreds of warriors died from the exploding cannonballs and were swept away by the Styx. With reinforcements cut off and overextended, Third Legion methodically began to eliminate the enemy. Soon they’d thinned the lines enough to open the square, squeeze Cain’s dying legion, and push it back toward the river.
Gerald had to give them credit though. They fought back like cornered animals, which was exactly what they were. Finally, the enemy general was killed, and the last of Cain’s forces either threw themselves into the river of plunged their swords into their own hearts.
There weren’t many worse things than being a prisoner of war in Hell.
Gerald didn’t think about it until it was over. But he’d lived through his first legion-level action and lived. A third of the legion wasn’t as lucky.
Gerald’s reputation grew as a result.
The Rush of Battle
Beelzebub’s weakened legion died. It was as simple as that. Spears shot forward from the shield wall like supercharge pistons. They drove two, sometimes three ranks deep into the horde of flailing monstrosities. Those few creatures that were able to get through the front line were hacked to pieces by waiting swordsmen. Others tried to leap over the formation into the rear. All of the Lord of All That Flies’ creations had wings. Not all had the power to fly, but it helped them jump really high.
Spears in the ranks farther back took care of that problem with the help of gravity. Getting the impaled dead off the weapon
s was the real challenge after the battle was finished. It was a problem because they had to break the integrity of the formation to get the bodies off. And that was a problem when seventy-five thousand raging creatures were barreling toward them.
“Move forward!” The voice boomed through the pass.
Gerald would have recognized the General’s tone anywhere.
Reformed and ready, the legion marched forward two hundred yards to the second trench. Gerald saw what they were doing. Using every terrain advantage was going to be critical to winning this fight. But the situation on the ground was Icilius’ job, Gerald needed to focus on what was going on above it.
“Steady.” Gerald put his arm up.
Sniper’s fingers moved from the trigger-guards to the triggers. They spoke softly among themselves, designating the best targets. The rest of the airborne regiment tensed. Most crouch low and prepared to leap into the air.
“Wait until you see the whites of their eyes.”
Gerald had been present at Bunker Hill when the original command was given. He had no idea how historic the phrase was. New meat was awestruck when he spoke about being in that battle. Even if he wasn’t an Infernal Knight, he would have still been popular with the new meat.
They always wanted to know about that, and what it was like meeting George Washington in person. His response was always the same, “larger than life.” It was ironic, because he usually ended up killing them during training over the next few days.
The enemy air support was going to pass close the mountainside, within a hundred feet. The element of surprise would keep the airborne regiment alive long enough to do some damage. They needed to make it count.
“Wait for it.” The enemy legions crossed the first trench where the two hundred skirmishers had already evaporated into ash.
“Wait for it.” The mass of rolling black slowed slightly, and a dozen gargantuan creatures charged from their ranks toward Seere’s infantry.
“Shit!” Gerald cursed.
He reached behind his back and grabbed his specially-designed spear. With a flick of his wrist the molecularly-honed blade extended to its full three-foot length. His weapon of choice had many different functions, but this was the most straightforward and it would get the job done.
“FIRE!”
“CHARGE!”
Gerald and the Colonel yelled the commands simultaneously, and the airborne regiment sprang into action; but the Colonel and the regiment went one way and Gerald went another.
The sudden war-cry of a thousand legionnaires suddenly appearing on their flank stopped the enemy air support cold. The colonel and his men crashed into the enemy like raging beasts. They dug deep into the enemy’s side before Beelzebub’s forces were able to rally. For a short time it was raining body parts down on the enemy Lord’s infantry forces.
Gerald smiled at the thought, but needed to focus on his own mission. He beat his wings furiously and dove toward the charging berserkers of the enemy horde. The air cracked loudly around him as he broke the sound barrier and closed on his targets.
The dozen gargantuan creatures were as large as rhinos. They had naturally growing plate armor up and down their sides, but Gerald knew from experience their underbellies were soft and vulnerable. Two sets of horns extended several feet from the creature’s head, creating a natural ram, and three sets of insect wings covered its back. The heavy monsters couldn’t fly or even jump with such small, fragile wings. Lastly, the creatures charged forward on six set of human legs. It was a sickening sight as normal legs carrier the patchwork creature forward much faster than you’d think.
The creatures were big and strong, but they were stupid. All the enemy general could count on was pointing them in a direction and releasing them. The monsters would kill Beelzebub’s own soldiers as readily as Seere’s, but letting them tearing into the infantry legions first would make a large hole General Icilius would need to commit his reserve to fill. That left the enemy free to pound and break through at another point along the line.
It was a simple, straightforward plan and it had the potential to work. Had the snipers been able to see the berserkers in the massive horde they would have called for artillery to destroy them, but now they were too close to friendly lines to take out.
It would be up to Gerald and the infantry to deal with them now.
Everything happened quickly. The snipers fired, the airborne regiment attacked, and Gerald struck his first target. He barreled in like a winged-missile. At the last minute he flipped over in midair, braced himself, and channeled power into his legs.
The impact still shook him to his core. He hit the closest berserker on the left flank, where the infantry line was weaker. The large, seemingly unstoppable creature exploded like a watermelon dropped from a skyscraper. Gerald’s impact shook the earth, causing two more nearby berserkers to stumble and fall. Once down, with no arms to get up, the creatures flailed around like fish out of water.
“Open!” The command was yelled down the line and dozens of rocketeers emerged.
They stood tall and fearless as the remaining berserkers charged them.
“FIRE!”
Coordinated fire cascaded down on the berserkers. Most were hit five or six times. Some were thrown off their feet, some were killed, all were injured, but not all of them were stopped. The rocketeers retreated behind the rapidly closing shield wall to reload as the remaining four berserkers finally reached them.
They hit the legions like the battering rams they were designed to be. Armored men were impaled on those long horns as the berserkers crashed through the shield wall. The legionnaires offered little resistance as the creatures smashed through into the rear. Men stabbed at the sides as they passed. Some hacked at their vulnerable legs, while others threw themselves onto the ground to get one good thrust into their unarmored underbellies before they were trampled to death.
Two of the remaining berserkers went down in the middle of the legion, but they still killed scores of men before swords and spears were able to hack them to death. The other two made it through the lines. They were bloody and limping but they were alive and they kept going. It would be up to the reserve to deal with them.
The legion had more important things to worry about. They had about thirty seconds to regroup before the front of the charging horde reached them.
But that wasn’t Gerald’s problem. Gerald climbed out of the large crater he created and flew to the nearby berserker writhing on its side. His spear found the break in the armor between neck and torso, and a quick stab and twist killed the beast. With both creatures dead he leapt back into the air just before the horde overran his position. Black arrows soared after him, several hit him, but none made it through his armor or hurt his wings. He did feel a trickle of power dissipate with every hit, but he was still strong and ready to fight. He just needed to find his next target.
Gerald flew back toward the aerial battle overhead. A quick scan showed him the tide was turning. Quantity had a quality all its own, and the airborne regiment was feeling it. Gerald skewered an emaciated creature from behind with bat wings, an overlarge head, and beady black eyes the size of small plates. As the creature gave its final death-wheeze he whipped it around and threw it into the nearest enemy. Both bodies crumbled and fell down toward the sea of black surging forward. With any luck the falling bodies would kill a few more when they hit the ground.
A bloody, winged legionnaire gave him a nod of thanks as he took deep breaths. It was one of the veterans and his spear was slick with black blood.
“Form up on me.” Gerald commanded.
He needed to gather a force large enough to form a wedge and drive back into the heart of the enemy air support. Once there he could unleash his power and turn the tide back in their favor.
That plan quickly evaporated when he heard the high-pitched whistling.
“Incoming!” Gerald yelled, diving down and away from the airborne battle.
A few soldiers nearby heard
him and followed in his wake, but they were only a handful. The rest were blotted out of existence as artillery rounds started to explode in the middle of the battle. The screams of enemies and friendlies filled the air as blood, ash, and body parts started to rain down on the infantry legions that had just started to clash.
The sound of battle and death was everywhere now, and after so long in Hell, it was the closest thing to home the Infernal Knight had.
Gerald felt the rush fill him, and this time he didn’t hold back. The reservoir of power poured into him. His body grew, his muscle flexed, and he roared his defiance. No one could mistake the challenge. It told Beelzebub’s legions that an Infernal Knight of Seere was on the field of battle. Any who wished to challenge him would be sent back to their master in several tiny boxes.
The world tinged red, and without any thought he dove into the mass of the enemy horde. This time he didn’t flip around. This time he went in head first. He crashed into the ground, pouring power into it with his fist. The ground all around him exploded. It threw hundreds of enemy soldiers into the air. The earth rolling underneath them caused thousands more to stumble and fall. The enemy legions trampled hundreds of their own soldiers to death, while more were crushed under the combined weight of their fallen allies.
Gerald rose from the crater of bodies and laughed. The cruel sound sent the enemy foot-soldiers instinctively scrambling for cover. But that wouldn’t save them. He lunged forward in a spinning circle. His wings and spear cut through flesh and bone like butter, leaving a path of death and destruction for several hundred feet. He came out of his spin, backhanded and killed a humanoid creature with the head of a mosquito, and roared again.
His blood still boiled with the rush of bloodlust, but the red tinge to the world was fading. Killing allowed him to think more clearly now, and that allowed him to remember his mission.
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