Day 48, 3:05 PM

“A live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles. Structurally, there's no discernible difference. Life and death are unquantifiable abstracts. Why should I be concerned?”

— Doctor Manhattan (Alan Moore)

I look down the road and see them resting about a mile away. They have one horseman, and they have finished their lunch half an hour ago, and are just waiting now.

Gohen is a clever bastard. We have a choice of fighting now and forfeiting our fortification, or fighting when he chooses, likely when the sun moves to shine into our eyes. We can hear them laughing, but can’t make out the words.

That’s an excellent tactic. He’s resting his men after a forced march while engaging in psychological warfare. And unlike baron Jaggel, I know he’s doing it on purpose. We have to stay alert, while they are relaxing. Basically, he’s tiring us out mentally.

I look at our troops. The boys are sitting, but they are nervous, and they are checking their gear at the last moment, as if anything would have changed since checking it a minute ago.

We have done what we could, and now we will see the results of our preparations.

I believe I have greatly improved my mastery over Batsy, and the twenty-odd hours of practice made the guys relatively proficient with slings. In the end, Manny and I settled on a tactic in which our fifty most proficient slingers are staying behind the palisade, and when we give them the mark, they will shoot at their maximum range of some three hundred and forty yards.

Manny and I crunched the numbers, concluding this tactic should kill ten men in the initial volley, then kill another ten in the followup, which the slingers would fire before the first volley lands. We anticipate just as many wounded, and the sudden attack should confuse the enemy. If they immediately run towards us, they will take more than a minute to reach us, and I can take out at least ten more in that time. If they march with their shields up, they will move slower and we will tire them a bit, and I think shields can’t really stop the five-pound rocks I throw.

I glance at the thirty rocks laying by my feet, that’s the maximum number of shots we dared imagine before the melee starts.

I focus on the road again, and I have to squint, the sun is blazing into my eyes. They start banging shields, and my heart races.

This is it. Why am I so nervous? I spend a moment sorting out my emotions, and I realize I’m afraid I might die and we may lose, but that is not the main source of my nervousness. I realize I’m anxious to get the fight started. Ever since I reincarnated here, my battles were a matter of moments and chance encounters. And now that I’m facing the first staged conflict, I’m yearning for the bloody contest to begin. To see who’s strong and who’s weak. To see who survives.

Is this feeling why people in antiquity went to war? To satisfy this thirst for violence?

I don’t know. I can’t say. What I do know is that my young muscles yearn for exercise, spurred by the mind which was once a slave to a desk. I inhale so deeply my chest hurts, yet my lungs scream for more. I’m young, I’m full of life, and a part of me wishes to glorify this feeling by extinguishing others. By turning them into bloody paste.

Come on! You’re too slow!

I squint, and they aren’t even halfway.

“Oorah!” I shout. “Bang your shields! We are alive! We are free! We will fight!”

The words are there, and I know what I want to sing.

“We’re not gonna take it!”

I start, and the rest of the men sing along with me. Their rage boils, and I think we’re winning the battle of morale. My sling whirls next to me and then…

Then, they cross the magic line.

“Shoot!” I shout, and a volley of stones flies, followed by another.

“Shields!” A voice shouts, but it’s too late. Gohen’s soldiers scream as we unleash the third hail of stones. There’s chaos and panic down the road.

I struggle to see, but the horseman does not galop for us. Instead, he charges into the forest.

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“To the trees,” Gohen shouts, and my jaw goes slack.

How the hell didn’t we expect they would get off the road?

I watch the distant chaos as the second volley hits, then the soldiers follow their leader into the forest and the third volley pelts the flagstones.

Shit! What now? If they are in the forest, they can attack the palisade anywhere, and they have the element of surprise.

“The enemy has fled!” I shout. “Take up your swords and shields! We will hunt them down in the forest!”

Soldiers cheer and follow me into the dense undergrowth.

How many did we kill and injure? Twenty? Thirty? The difference between the two numbers seems so insignificant, yet it could be a matter of life and death. It is a matter of life and death.

I clench my teeth and hustle through the shrubs. I squeeze Batsy with everything I have, and then I see him. The horseman is a scant ten yards away. He’s gigantic.

Gohen towers over me on his horse. The massive animal alone is as tall as I am, clad in plated metal armor covered in spikes and blades.

Shit. I grab a rock from my pocket, and throw it.

The stone screams through the air and strikes the horse’s eye opening. I don’t know whether it was a lucky shot, or a subconscious part of me actually aimed the improvised attack, but the stone smashes into steel, bending it.

The beast whines and rears as steel digs into its skull. Gohen is sent flying, and the destrier flees in panic, tottering left and right after suffering a concussion.

My breathing grows rougher. Chance!

Just as I rush to finish off the knight, his soldiers appear. The confused horse tramples one and impales another, but a man with white mustaches under his skull cap runs to meet me, and Batsy smashes into his temple, breaking his head and sending him flying.

The spray of blood doesn’t even hit the ground before the second soldier appears.

“Kill them!” a bunch of people shout at the same time, some behind me, some before me, and a chaotic melee ensues.

I kill six or seven of them before I hear Gohen again.

“Leave that one to me,” he says, and the knight in full body armor clunks his way towards me. He’s wearing a ridiculous amount of steel, yet his movement is quick. I don’t have the time to admire his rushed duck walk, because he’s already upon me.

He slashes at me, and I block with the center of my staff, just like I practiced with the boys. His sword hits, and I’m about to kick him when the blade resting at the middle of my staff pierces towards my head.

I bend back and jump away from him.

Fuck!

If my physical or mental stats were any lower, I would have exploded in Gohen’s face. I don’t want to do that. I want to prove to Manny, to prove to myself, I’m stronger than a fifty-year-old geezer.

I sweep Batsy like a club, but I strike a tree. The clustered terrain is unfavorable for me. Sir Gohen swings at me again, and I jump back, but one of his minions appears out of nowhere. The man slashes at my back, and I feel a tingle in my left shoulder blade.

I pivot right, and the slash is a wild miss with too much force to stop easily. I kick the man in the hip as he’s stumbling past me and he falls down, screaming.

“Leave their champion to me!” Gohen shouts. “I will handle the inbred slave! You handle the rabble!”

“Go fuck a donkey,” I growl. I want to throw a rock at him, but there’s not enough space, not enough time.

“Why would I fuck a donkey,” he says in a calm voice, “when I have a perfectly good whore right in this hamlet?”

I clench my jaw so hard I hear a tooth crack, Rage on the verge of activating.

“Aaah!” I scream and slam Batsy at him over and over again, but he just laughs while retreating.

“Men,” he shouts, “tonight, and the whole day tomorrow, we will fuck a former duchess!”

Calm down. He’s provoking you. You know he’s provoking you. I know. I know very well what he is doing. And yet, I can’t help myself.

I scream again, and start flailing at him with even greater speed. He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t shout. He slaps away my blows, staggering and moving with them to avoid followups, and he’s so fucking infuriating. Slippery like an eel.

Calm down, herd him towards a tree, or something he can trip on. It’s a good plan, but he glances back and down every time he moves. I can’t guess how long our dance lasts, but, eventually, I slip up.

I put too much force into a strike and I step onto a root. He sees me stumble for a split second, and his sword flashes. My wrist hurts and blood spews as he nearly cuts my hand off.

[Rage activated.

Duration - two minutes six seconds]

Ah, shit. I black out. When I come to, I’m laying on the ground, missing an arm, and a hand. Gohen is on top of me, and he’s got some dozen-odd soldiers looking down at me.

A rout, huh? How many did we kill? Fifty? Once Gohen and his men explode with me, Manny wins. She can proceed towards Eaglegord unobstructed and raise her rebellion. Not bad, I guess. I’m sorry I left you alone again.

The old man takes off his helmet and stares at me. “You’re dead, boy. And we’re going to fuck your noble lady ‘till she drops dead.”

I gather my breath, staring at the white beard and mustaches. His mug really looks honest and trustworthy. I really want to spit him in the eye, but I can’t spit that high right now. I do the next best thing, though.

“You mean,” I gasp, “like a donkey fucked your mother.”

His calm facade breaks for a blink. He stabs the sword at my eye, and I grin. Then we all explode together.