While the Elves were throwing themselves into a brutal melee, discarding all forms of tactics and strategy save for the simple and primitive doctrine of Mass Assault, the plantoid people were attempting to follow close behind but getting left further and further back as the Elves cut through legions of Zombies. The plantoids were slow at the best of times, and even with the massive and strange morale boost that everyone had been given, they were still plodding along at a snail’s pace. This was, however, something that Darksol had planned for, and it was nearly time for the noose around the attacking Arcfiran natives to be set in place.

While the massive, cursed artillery piece had been placed in a potentially dangerous spot, this was intentional. The Obliterator sat on a relatively small piece of land that jutted out from the coastline, forming a miniature peninsula that the Arcfirans could not easily assail. They had no navy to speak of, after all, so launching an attack at the more lightly defended aquatic approach was beyond impossible for them. However, the Elves and their Plantoid masters had begun to push up through that peninsula, and if they moved just a tiny bit further they would be in just the right place for the next phase of the operation to go into effect.

You see, the main goal of this whole effort on the part of Darksol’s military was not, in fact, to leave an unstoppable piece of artillery open for attack. No, the main defenses were supposed to fall, and the final approach to The Obliterator was supposed to be overrun. Those mortals that were there to defend knew that they were dead men, but they also knew that they likely would not stay dead for very long afterward.

Plus, the artillery piece that was about to be hit by the Elves was not The Obliterator. No, in the last remaining bits of time just before the Elves made it nearly 1/3rd of the way through the no man’s land, Kain and the giant trash can man known as Zero Noir pulled a bit of a hat trick. It was child’s play for Zero Noir to make a decently accurate 1/1 scale mock-up of The Obliterator, but unlike the real deal, this one was made mostly of plywood covered in a thin façade of painted aluminum.

All the Elves and their foliage-based masters had to look forward to was a joke of a piñata that was filled not with candy or valuable metal or magical components, but a crisscross scaffolding of reinforced wooden latticework. The real Obliterator had already been moved to a new position, and it was now waiting both patiently and silently for the battle where it once stood to end. Once that happened, it would resume its shelling of the jungle with reckless abandon and a complete lack of concern for any sensible standards of accuracy at all.

…

“We’re close! Just a few more meters and we can tear it apart!”

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“Yes! We’re almost there!”

“I’ll be the one to dismantle it! Me!”

Elves yelled in triumph as they reached their goal. Everyone that had stood in their way was dead or dying on the ground, and while they had suffered many losses they had finally claimed a decisive victory over the evil men from beyond Arcfira. They raised their weapons high and brought them down again and again upon the exterior plating of the massive construct, blindly hacking until they had torn through the metal and found the-.

“What the hell?!”

“This…? This is…?!”

“We’ve been tricked! We’ve been backstabbed! And we’ve been quite possibly bamboozled!”

Yes, their elation had turned to shock as the truth of the matter had been revealed, and the fact remained that they had done something potentially even dumber as well. Like a bunch of idiots, they had waited for the tree-people to catch up and had intended to hack open the massive gun in front of their masters. This is exactly what their foe had wanted to happen, and as such, it was at last time to spring the trap.

…

“They’ve taken it all, hook, line, and sinker. The transports shall now begin offloading their cargo. I want those fuckers trapped by the first light of day, so pick up the pace, everyone.”

Dozens of ships made their way towards the place where that miniature peninsula connected with the mainland. Once they reached their destination, they immediately began to disgorge legions of Darksolian soldiers, both undead and mortal, directly onto the beach. The first wave that would attack the Arcfiran natives was allowed to move on its own and use its speed to not only strike the rear but also tie up the Elves and Plant-people so that they could not attempt a quick escape.

Packs of Dire Wolves and a few packs of Death Hounds rushed through the cleared paths through the no man’s land, ultimately getting a decent charge off on the unprepared flank of the Arcfirans. They would do their duty and keep the enemy occupied for now, and once they had either been wiped out or ordered to retreat the regular infantry and cavalry would already be set up for a prolonged siege.

Unlike the Arcfiran natives, Darksol could afford to supply a besieged force by air and by sea, and unlike the Confederated Tribes, Darksol had a navy that was more than a few measly river canoes. As such, the Arcfiran Elves and their plantoid overlords quickly began to face not just the undead doggos, but also0 a semi-sustained bombardment from the naval vessels positioned just beyond the range of their archers.

To add insult to injury, there were even a few warships that had men with rifles on their decks, all of them aiming higher than normal to (hopefully) arc rather inaccurate shots into the bunched-up elves and tree-men. The undead good bois forced the elves and plant people to bunch up in a desperate attempt to hold the line, and all the while a bunch of random bullets kept smacking them in their read. Maybe the bullets were not all lethal and may not have hit with enough force to do anything more than bruise due to the distance traveled, but it was enough to cause headaches and divert attention from the new lines being formed further down the peninsula.

But that was the plan, and everyone knew their part. Besides, the Morale Buffing spell was just about to wear off, and when it finally did the undead doggos would pull back and the bombardment would cease. Kain was merciful enough to not actively try to snuff out the elves and the tree-men during that time, though his forces easily could.

Or maybe it was even crueler just to let them suffer unnecessarily? Well, that was a question for the philosophers.