The back of the Magnus army struggled to defend itself against their new adversaries, but it was too late. With unnatural ferocity, the mercenaries brutally tore their way through their opponents. As Edgar desperately tried to rally the rearguard against the ensuing onslaught, Bjorn and the vanguard were on the brink of breaking ranks. It was a chaotically disorganized catastrophe that transformed the battle into a frenzied free-for-all. The Magnus host had completely lost control of the situation and there was no escape.
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Fregan laughed hysterically as he watched his enemies being outflanked by Autem’s mercenaries. Even though Fregan was opposed to the idea of using mercenaries to win a battle, he was exhilarated to see victory within his grasp.
When he saw the vanguard of the rebel army fleeing towards him, Fregan ordered, “All forces, attack and surround the rabble!”
With a thunderous series of footsteps and bloodcurdling screams, the entire Imperial Army charged forward. They created another pincer movement that enveloped their enemies from the other side. In several agonizing moments, the Magnus force was completely encircled as their foes mercilessly slaughtered them and cut off all escape routes. It was the beginning of the end.
______
The roaring mayhem could be heard from beyond the flaming rim as Kemrin and Autem listened. Kemrin’s heart sank as he realized what was happening.
Laughing triumphantly, Autem boasted, “It’s over, rebel boy! Your army is surrounded and being annihilated as we speak! I win!”
Swiftly, Kemrin felt his mind being enveloped by despair and hopelessness as he digested the soul-sucking revelation. He could feel his legs weaken as he lost the will to stand firm. Gramfyre threatened to slip from his drained fingers. Everything Kemrin and his siblings fought and sacrificed for was for a lost cause. Now they led five kingdoms to their deaths and their efforts were in vain. It was a disgusting fact that Kemrin found hard to swallow and it churned his gut like a seething cauldron of regret.
Then things turned from bad to worse as Kemrin looked into the sky in time to see his dragon and Autem’s chimera kill one another in a blast of fire and lightning. The two beasts came tumbling down in a smoldering heap before crashing just outside of the battlefield in a tremendous explosion. At that moment, Kemrin could feel the psychic connection he shared with Razos abruptly severed and a dark void formed in his heart, threatening to swallow up his very essence like a black hole. The shock was so extreme that Kemrin was on the verge of falling over.
Smiling sadistically, Autem taunted, “That’s it, boy. Give in to the folly of your quest. Yield your sword and bow to me. Admit you are a would-be usurper and submit. Submit!”
In a mad frenzy, Autem lashed out at Kemrin, who was barely able to parry. Kemrin could only muster a fraction of his strength and skill in his humbled state. As a result, Kemrin was easily swatted aside by the emperor. Autem kept up his relentless onslaught as he thrashed Kemrin again and again. Eventually, Autem scored a serious blow as he cut through Kemrin’s left side, forcing him to his knees. With Kemrin subdued, Autem pointed to tip of his sword at Kemrin’s throat when he looked up. Through the flames along the crater’s rim, Kemrin could glimpse his standard-bearer being slain by enemy soldiers.
When Kemrin returned his attention to Autem, the emperor viciously declared, “I look forward to giving you all a traitor’s death. It’s over, whelp!”
______
Edgar and Bjorn frantically fought for survival alongside their army as they battled the Imperial Army from every direction. In the bloody frenzy, they desperately searched for some way through the Imperial ranks, but none could be found. As the carnage progressed, the mayhem got increasingly worse. Above the battlefield, Razos and Autem’s chimera continued to clash by either blasting one another with fire and lightning or ripping each other’s throats before dying together. Overall, it was a battle unlike any other, a battle worthy of legend.
Fighting back-to-back, Edgar and Bjorn defended one another while augmenting one another’s counterattacks. In an instant, Edgar split the shoulder of one mercenary while Bjorn severed the Achilles tendon of another. Afterwards, Bjorn parried an enemy soldier’s sword while Edgar finished it off by cleaving its exposed midsection. So far, the father and son duo were faring well against the insurmountable odds that encircled them, but they were only prolonging the inevitable. With each foe they cut down three more took their place. There seemed to be no end to them.
“There are too many of these wretches, father! What do we do now?” Bjorn asked longingly.
Without a better answer, Edgar replied, “I don’t know, son! All we can do is pray that the gods will somehow save us! Just keep fighting with everything you’ve got!”
Suddenly, Edgar yelped as a mercenary deftly skewered him with a spear before stabbing into his throat with a dagger. Bjorn screamed in anguish as he watched his father get butchered. Desperate to save Edgar, Bjorn bifurcated the soldier’s skull open with a two-handed sword swing. With the mercenary dead, Bjorn dropped to his knees and cradled his father’s corpse. Edgar died with a frighteningly blank expression on his face as blood trickled from his mouth. Bjorn was filled with so much grief and despair that he could not find the strength to cry out his anguish. Instead, he dropped his sword and held Edgar’s body, waiting for the next enemy to take him.
Without warning, a series of war horns bellowed from outside the battlefield.
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King Wylar Staan rode on his war horse, clad in his armor and Ferruman katana in hand. His scale armor was copper-colored while his greathelm carried his crown. Behind him were thirty thousand Darrman knights and men-at-arms on horseback. In their hands were weapons ranging from katanas, wakizashis, and naginatas. The banner of the Staan stag flew above their heads as they charged towards the massacre on Ragnarworth Field.
Laid out before Wylar was the culmination of the pact he made with Caelum Magnus, and he expected House Magnus to uphold their end of the bargain when this battle was over. Until then, the King of Darrm focused on slaying the enemy.
Declaring his intentions for all to hear, Wylar shouted, “Magnus!”
His army roared with him, screaming, “Magnus!”
The Darrm host split into two groups as they formed a pincer movement that quickly surrounded the Imperial Army. Wylar gleefully charged towards the apparent commander of the Imperial ground troops, katana at the ready.
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Fregan bellowed in frustration as he watched the Darrman army encircle his forces. With most of his soldiers on foot, they stood no chance against such a large cavalry unit. To make matters worse, the Imperial army had to fight the Darrman attacking them from the outside and the Magnus host attacking from the inside. It became clear to Fregan that the outcome of the battle was within sight.
When Fregan heard the Darrmans shout the Magnus name, he loudly cursed, “Traitors!”
As the Darrmans completed their pincer movement, Fregan turned in time to see King Wylar Staan swing his katana at him. Then Fregan’s world instantly vanished as the Ferruman blade removed the top half of his skull.
______
Kemrin and Autem became equally confused as they heard the sounds of war horns and men shouting the Magnus name.
“What the blazes is happening out there?” Kemrin asked softly to himself.
Before Autem could come up with an answer, an Imperial soldier emerged from the flames and shouted, “Majesty! Darrm has betrayed us all! They have surrounded us and are slaughtering our forces!”
Suddenly, the lone soldier was silenced when an arrow skewered him through the heart and he collapsed into the mound of corpses.
Raising Gryphclaw in outrage, Autem cursed, “King Staan! Damn that man! I will have his head on a spike for this!”
The news of Darrm siding with him filled Kemrin with a renewed sense of hope. Gone was the despair that weighed him down. Regripping Gramfyre, Kemrin forced himself to his feet and took an offensive
stance in front of the infuriated Emperor Autem.
“You went on by saying all of my efforts have been in vain! Now the tables have turned! King Staan has decided the outcome of this battle! The Imperial Crown is as good as mine! Give it to me!” Kemrin firmly ordered.
Returning his attention to the young upstart, Autem snarled, “The tide may be turning against me, but nothing has changed! You want my crown, come and get it!”
With revived vigor, Kemrin and Autem charged at one another for one final clash. Their blades collided with one another in explosive bursts of mystical sparks, illuminating the entire area. However, Autem’s debilitating health was finally catching up to him as his stamina quickly ebbed away. As a result, the younger and fitter Kemrin was able to deliver a flurry of blows. With one downward thrust, Kemrin sliced Autem’s left thigh to the bone before slashing Autem’s abdomen. Still, despite his failing strength, Autem was still able to score some hits of his own as he hacked into Kemrin’s shin and stabbed into Kemrin’s left shoulder. In response, Kemrin swung Gramfyre upward and grazed Autem’s exposed brow, causing blood to trickle into his eyes. With Autem half-blinded, Kemrin continued his onslaught and knocked Gryphclaw out of the Emperor’s hand before plunging Gramfyre through Autem’s gut and out of his back. Unfortunately, as Gryphclaw flew from Autem’s fingers, the tip of the blade sliced open Kemrin’s right eye and he screamed in agony.
Kemrin pulled Gramfyre out of Autem’s gut and took a few steps back, reeling from his damaged eye. In spite of his mortal wound, Autem refused to go down and stiffly grabbed a fallen billhook in an attempt to continue fighting. Just as Kemrin was about to finish Autem off, his injured leg gave way and he was forced to his knees. Smiling through his bloodied mouth, Autem slowly lumbered towards Kemrin with his billhook raised.
Suddenly, someone shouted, “Emperor Autem!”
Kemrin and Autem looked around them and saw six men-at-arms emerge from the fading flames. At first they thought they were Imperial soldiers, but they turned out to be men from Umbran, Valai, Varland, Aemarr, Storuuk, and Darrm. Each man represented each kingdom that stood against Imperial rule and they bore expressions of purely hateful intent. Although dying and surrounded, Autem desperately tried to swing his billhook at his new attackers, but they viciously subdued him and started beating and stabbing him. Through his remaining eye, Kemrin was overwhelmed by the brutality of the sight as his men thrashed the emperor to a bloody pulp. The scene was so horrid yet so sublime that time seemed to slow down as Kemrin witnessed the savage murder.
After what seemed like an eternity, Kemrin snapped out of his trance, forced himself to his feet, and shouted, “Enough!”
The strength of Kemrin’s voice was so powerful that his men instantly broke from their berserker rage and turned to face him. Limping heavily, Kemrin approached his soldiers and ordered, “Step aside!”
The Magnus men-at-arms parted to reveal the mangled corpse of the late Emperor Autem III Sylva. Autem’s golden plate armor was extremely dented and scarred beyond recognition while his purple cloak was so tattered that only a sliver of it remained attached to his right shoulder. The expression Autem’s lifeless face wore was also grotesque as his aqua-colored eyes rolled in either direction. Autem’s silver hair was stained with his own blood while the back of his skull was split open, causing his brains to slither out.
After a moment’s hesitation, Kemrin instructed, “No one touches his armor, weapons, and crown. They are now my trophies. Anyone who violates this order will be put to death. Do you understand?”
In response, Kemrin’s men curtly nodded.
One of the soldiers explained, “The day is ours, my liege. The mercenaries Sylva summoned broke and ran in every direction while the surviving Imperial Army surrendered.”
Not taking his eyes off of Autem’s corpse, Kemrin softly said, “Good.”
A mixture of volatile emotions washed over Kemrin as he surveyed Autem’s body. Autem’s death was vicious and unnatural. Somewhere in the back of Kemrin’s mind he knew that what happened to Autem could also happen to him. The thought of sharing Autem’s gruesome fate filled him with absolute fear and uncertainty. Was this the destiny of a true emperor, or was it the destiny of a man who became careless from his own hubris? It was a question that would haunt the dark corners of Kemrin’s psyche for the rest of his life. Still, despite his all-consuming terror, Kemrin was relieved that he emerged triumphant over Autem. With the emperor dead and the Imperial Army shattered, House Magnus’s conquest was now assured. The Imperial Crown was finally within reach.
Remembering that both his crown and Autem’s fell off of their heads during their duel, Kemrin searched for the two crowns amidst the filthy carnage. However, as he continued to look around, Kemrin noticed that the flames that ignited the rim of the crater had finally burned out, allowing Kemrin’s allies to walk through. Among the crowd was King Wylar Staan, who was holding both Kemrin’s crown and Autem’s in either hand. The old king took several steps forward before kneeling deeply before Kemrin, holding up both crowns as he did so. Then the rest of the Magnus army kneeled as well. Kemrin was both overwhelmed and excited at the sight of everyone showing fealty to him.
After Kemrin slowly took the two crowns from King Staan’s hands, Wylar declared, “Hail to the Emperor!”
The rest of the soldiers roared and cheered with praise and universal acclaim as they basked in the glory of their new sovereign. Raising the two crowns over his head, Kemrin embraced his new fate. For the first time in three hundred years, House Magnus was back where it belonged.
When the cheering faded, Kemrin looked at King Staan and asked, “What brings you to our side, King Wylar? I thought Darrm was remaining neutral throughout the whole war.”
“Your brother Caelum washed on our shores and became our esteemed guest, Your Imperial Majesty,” Wylar answered.
Joy and relief enveloped Kemrin as he said, “Caelum’s alive! I thought he died at sea when he fought the Imperial Navy! How is he?”
“He is doing well, Sire. He is receiving every courtesy befitting someone of his status. It was his silver tongue that won Darrm to your side. In exchange for aiding you against House Sylva, he offered the hand of your sister to my son Kenji, give a seat on the Privy Council to my daughter, as well as improve trade and relations between Darrm and Chrysos. After being slighted by Emperor Autem multiple times, it was an offer that was too good to pass up. As long as that pact is in place, Darrm is yours to command, My Emperor,” Wylar explained.
Pleased, Kemrin said, “That’s wonderful, Your Majesty. How many men did you bring? I hear Darrm is capable of raising over forty thousand men in a fortnight.”
“I brought twenty thousand for this battle, Your Imperial Majesty. The rest are . . . elsewhere.”
Confused, Kemrin further asked, “Where are they?”
CHAPTER 27
Later that night, the streets of Chrysos were calm and quiet, with only the city guards occupying the area. Still, the guards were not alone as shadows moved amongst them like evil spirits. The shadows took the form of three dozen Darrman warriors dressed entirely in black to blend in with the surrounding darkness. However, unlike their other brothers-in-arms, these warriors did not dress in the scale armor and chainmail of the Darrman military. Instead, they wore typical civilian clothing from their kingdom, which consisted of conical hats and kimonos. Their weapons consisted of katanas, wakizashis, and tantos.
Several weeks before, after Prince Caelum brokered an alliance with Darrm, the shadowy warriors were sent to the capital disguised as common merchants. Their blades were safely hidden in the woodwork of their wagons and barrels. Since Darrm had not publicly chosen sides yet, no one suspected them of treachery. Now the tide of the war had changed. Tonight, the shadow warriors initiated their mission.
Swift as the wind, the shadow warriors soundlessly charged towards Chrysos’s gates. Whenever they came across an Imperial guard, they discreetly silenced him with their blad
es. Even though the shadow warriors lacked armor, they were faster and more agile than their opponents, allowing them to slay their enemies before they could react.
With the guards taken care of, the Darrman assailants turned their attention to the gates, working on the mechanisms to open it. Meanwhile, one of their comrades ran to the top of the gate and waved a torch back and forth. Then the gates creaked open as a thunderous noise grew outside of the city.
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Outside of Chrysos under the cover of darkness, Princess Barma Staan sat on her horse with her naginata in hand. Barma was a physically strong young woman with well-defined muscles and razor-sharp features. She possessed the beauty of a goddess of war. Behind her was half the military strength of Darrm and ten thousand Aemarrans for a grand total of twenty-three thousand men. Next to Barma was Caelum Magnus, who wore his hauberk and added Darrman scale armor and a general’s helm to his attire. At his belt was a Darrman kodachi in addition to his seax. He sat on a black war horse that grunted at the air.
“My prince, how many people do you think are in that city?” Barma asked intently.
Shrugging, Caelum guessed, “Some people claim that it is home to well over a million people. Fortunately, they are almost all civilians and only have a garrison of less than five thousand men. The Imperial Palace itself has a garrison of about two thousand men, but rumor claims that only a couple hundred of them are reliable soldiers. Normally, Chrysos is guarded by twenty thousand men while the Imperial Palace requires ten thousand men to be properly garrisoned. Due to House Sylva’s high demand of levies, they took most of the garrison from the capital.”
Shifting her weight in her saddle, Barma asked, “What do we do now?”
Sighing with annoyance, Caelum ordered, “We wait for the signal!”
The War of the Gilded Beasts Page 20