Interlude: Crusher

Interlude: Crusher

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by J.A.

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“Forward!”

A single command.

A single roar.

A single demand.

And, a moment later, there was a surge of bodies. Each body too large for a horse to carry. Each body stronger and faster than a horse. Each body covered in enough armor and weapons to break a horse’s back them.

A rolling tide of muscle and armor which I led.

Dust upturned behind us. The earth rumbled with our footfalls. The beating of our hearts rose up into a frenzy. I heard some pant, not with exertion, but with bloodlust. They will be spoken to. I needed men, not beasts, on this battlefield.

But, for now, we charged forward.

Our foes were ahead of us. Paltry, misshapen things allowed to spread because of futile fighting and irresponsibility. Goblins astride spiders the size of wolves. Their armor is ramshackle, rusted, and obviously stolen. Many wear bones of other races upon themselves as trophies. Their eyes are yellow and slitted and their teeth sharpened and chipped into fangs.

Many of the skulls that hang off their small frames are smaller than their own.

The skulls of children or younger.

I did not know of my bloodlusted warriors saw what I say, but it took everything I had not to run faster, not to use my skills to streak ahead of my warriors, and crash into the enemy and turn them into meat.

These creatures were deserving of death.

They brought forth rusted spears barely the height of a man. Some had broken bucklers with arrow heads weighting them down. Others carried swords with broken blades. They all shake and quiver and hold back screams, looking to one another through rusted or bone helmets, to make sure that none of their number run.

Some creatures should be pitied and ignored.

The crimes of these goblins, even without considering what they defend, meant that their eradication was necessary.

This world had no need for them.

We made contact with them.

Fifty against five hundred.

And they were undone.

Bones cracked and splintered beneath the weight of our charge. I felt bodies connect with my shoulder as I wound up a swing mid-stride. Broken armor against finely-made armor, trained flesh, greater speed, and immense mass. The immense spider broke apart at my foot while its rider broke completely against my shoulder. Then, I swung my axe at the creatures behind him.

These ones had even poorer armor and their steeds were more anemic. A swing of my axe, garbed in the power of wind and blessed by lightning like all the axes of my warriors by our mages, cut a swathe through our foes. Gales blasted apart armor before stripping away flesh and tearing through innards. Lightning struck frail, corrupted forms and blew apart limbs. The wicked, arcing light instantly immolated whole torsos and heads. Their chitin-covered, many-legged steeds squealed in agony and pain, their vitals scorched or shredded, and so they threw off their dead rider before curling upon themselves in death throes.

Before I knew it, me and my warriors passed through the entire lot, and they were all dead and gone.

I glance around and I saw my protections worked well, and what little wounds my warriors incurred were already healing.

I had only one order to give, as we looked down upon another group of goblins atop their beasts, with their formation already set to break.

“Forward!”

…

“War Chief, the scholars have finished scouring the ruin. They have found Artifacts of the Ancients and have secured them for study.”

“Good, tell them to rest for the night. We will return home tomorrow.”

“Yes, War Chief.”

I sat at the center of our encirclement of wagons. Large canvas roofs hung over us. Through the hole in the center for the smoke to escape from our large flame, the stars and scarred moon stared down upon us. The scent of roasting meat and pickled vegetables was carried by the wind, along with freshly-cleansed bodies. I had allowed my men the reprieve that they sought after many days of scouring pests and searching ruins.

Today, they ate, boasted of their successes, and wondered about their bright futures.

I, meanwhile, lent my ear towards one of the Deliverer’s men. Some called them messengers, glorified errand boys, but I knew better. These men would deliver our leader’s orders to us no matter how far we were from home. Even if they died, wasting away to bones on their travel, the message and news of our home would reach us through them. Nothing will stop them, and they will be the first to receive Wyverns as mounts when we tame them.

In emulation of the King of Wisdom’s utilization of Pegasi as transporters and steeds for messengers.

Typically, these days, I did not receive much news from the Deliverer. My lord had bid me to scour our lands for power and so I did.

No, the messengers arrived to give me a clearer picture on the King of Wisdom’s campaign to humble the Guardians of the Moon.

Each passing day, each message, soured my mood and made it unfit for celebration.

We had intended to meet the Guardians of the Moon in open, formal battle. We expected to lose half of our armies. I expected to lose my life to bring low one of the Vampire Lords. It would’ve been a worthy price to pay for another Citadel, and if we lost, then we would be supporting an honorable foe whose intentions with the world were worth fighting for.

The King of Wisdom, Jack, took the foe we considered our equal and who we expected to lose half of all we had against… and was crushing them underfoot.

“Armored ground and aerial cavalry. Whole battalions of mages. Scores and scores of infantries all finely armored. Then, an officer corps capable of splitting apart, taking on many objectives at once, and three Champions who match all others.” I grumbled and my right-hand gave a snort, while drinking from a large tankard. Holdfast was covered in scars from the neck down. Even his stomach sported a scar that beggared belief and went straight out his back. His regeneration had been good enough to regenerate his inside and all of his stomach’s contacts had been blown out, so none had poisoned him from within. He was a capable lieutenant, but I could not imagine him in command of half my forces while I took the other half elsewhere. “What do you think, Holdfast? Our armies against the King of Wisdom’s?”

“It’ll be one hell of a fight to lose.” Holdfast chuckled and shook his head. His head was bereft of hair, but he kept a trim, gray beard around his jaw. It was hard to believe that we were the same age. His many bouts of intense regeneration have aged him significantly. Even our bodies had their limits. “We couldn’t lose to anyone better, and it won’t be so bad to lose and give dominion over the whole continent to the one who defeat us.”

He chuckled as I glared at him.

As I had thought, his aid was lacking, and I returned to thinking… only for him to speak again.

“There’s no fighting the King of Wisdom and his armies, until we have our own. We already see what he will do. He will run, he will burn down our villages and farms, and he will force our fastest and youngest to confront him while he has the advantage.” Holdfast was a veteran of many battles. Many won, but many more lost. He joked earnestly about fortune being the only reason he lived, not his skill or strong body, but sometimes I believed him. Perhaps, it was the truth. He knew much, because he survived losing more than many did. “We will be cut down piece by piece, made desperate like cornered beasts, and when we finally battle against him it will be glorious… but those with clear minds and stout hearts always put beasts down.”

I grudgingly nodded at those words.

Our ancestors had ferocity and feverish wrath in spades, yet they were conquered and defeated. Our people were suborned, enslaved, and overcome despite all our strengths. That was because we tried to free ourselves and not free each other. Selfishness, pride, and many other desires inherent to our blood was exploited, and it could be exploited still if we were not careful. We had to ensure that we would be different, that our children will be different, and so that we would never again be shackled and imprisoned.

If we were cornered, if we found ourselves at the brink, it is discipline and duty that will win the day as we hold firm even in the face of our lands being burnt and future turning bleak. Should we flounder and fall to our primal instincts, then we would most assuredly fall once again as an entire nation.

It was fate that loomed over us, if those at the head of our armies remained those who came from the past and now sought to do everything to protect the present, heedless of our future.

“Those who come after us will need to be better. We cannot sacrifice, because we have endured worse and will never accept going back. We must teach them, they must listen, and they must learn to endure greater suffering.” The words were like ash in my mouth. The thought of my children having to learn to watch and abide the burning of their lands, holding back so that they cannot be defeated piecemeal, rattled me to my very core. The shame that threatened to overtake me, the desire to be rid of it, was enough for me to consider having all my warriors uproot themselves now and march straight back. I barely stopped myself. “I saw this, but is it even possible? Can the Conquerors steel their hearts and stand still in the face of a foe as cunning and brutal as the King of Wisdom?”

“War Chief, the Conquerors can barely steel their hearts and stand still against ourselves. We declared hostilities against the Academy the moment they gave us the chance.” Holdfast’s words were difficult to acknowledge, but that was why I made him my lieutenant. Many called him a coward, and his skill in command was lacking, but I held no doubt about his ability to see the truth of the matter. He ducked his head against his betters. He hid in the mud when the armies he joined were about to die. He swallowed his pride and stood his ground when others would charge in with bravery filling their hearts. “If the King of Wisdom leverages our beliefs against us, then we will fight gloriously and die honorably, but he will be the victor.”

“You mean, our executioner.”

“Executioners usually wield axes. Not whole armies.”

This time I chuckled and raised my tankard my lieutenant’s way. He hit his against mine, and we toasted, then we both drank deeply.

I enjoyed the low murmurs of my warriors, their boastful stories, and the light of the fire beneath the scarred moon for a while, before Holdfast broke the silence that I chose.

“How far as the King of Wisdom gone?”

I nodded at the question before taking another deep draught and replying thereafter.

“In less than a season, he brought the whole of the Guardians of the Moon low and now he heads home.” A land as large as ours, with armies we considered our equal, destroyed in less than two months. That gave Holdfast pause as he realized the truth. I chuckled lowly once more. His wide eyes were amusing to stare at. “Thinking about leaving the army, Holdfast?”

“If I could tender my resignation without my wife feeding me to her new Wyvern, I would.”

Now, at that, I had to truly laugh.

…

The Deliverer raised his hammer, whose handle was carved wholesale from a whole trunk of a tree, and whose head was melted slag from hundred chains that once enslaved our people.

He swung it with a grunt, then again, and again.

I watched him train his form, ensure that his body remained in good health to lead, and spoke to him once he finished his work.

“Crusher.”

“My Lord, Deliverer.” Convincing him to rule over us had been a difficult affair. He refused to take wives and sire children to create a lineage, as well. His belief was that the Conquerors should choose their leaders by merit and might in equal measure. If he perished, we would be aimless. Only our wisest scholars could convince him to spend the last years of his life ruling over us, until we could create a system which would satisfy him. “I’ve returned with many Artifacts of the Ancients. But found none of the weapons that the King of Wisdom sought.”

“The weapons of the Ancients will be difficult to find. They will be carefully hidden, since they were so feared by their foes.” The Deliverer took a whole barrel of water and drank from it. His massive frame cast a shadow over me. Despite being blessed in physique amongst my kin, he towered over me like I was a child. “If the King of Wisdom has not found one in the most secret of ruins beneath the Academy, then we will not find it in our frontier lands.”

I nodded at his words, and he spoke once again after draining the barrel of water.

“Take our newest troops and search once again. Blood them as well as you are able within a month’s time.” He rarely had anything else. If he imbibed too much, his body will begin to heat up once again and try to return him to his prime. All our physicians told us that doing so will cut down his remaining decades to a mere handful of years. So, for us, he starved and lived between life and death. Still, he trained and exercised with a hammer that could shatter a castle gate with a single swing. “Then, you will return.”

I nodded, but paused at the order.

He noticed my confusion and a smile split his wizened face.

“The King of Wisdom is an enemy to be feared, but also an ally that must be won, and he knows this. I expect that within a few days he will contact us… quietly.”

With that said, the Deliverer returned to his training and I left him to his own devices.

Just two weeks after our meeting, the request came, and I found myself going to meet with the King of Wisdom in secret.

I could only hope that the Deliverer could persist and outlive the King of Wisdom.

If he did not, then who did we have that could hope to match him?