The army's pace quickened, their steps falling in sync with the song that drifted through the ranks. The Earth’s Children in John’s porter unit led the chant, their voices rising above the rhythmic crunch of boots against the ground. At first, it was soft, but as more voices joined in, the army’s collective spirit seemed to swell.
“Hi ho, hi ho, off to battle we go!” the chorus rang out, bouncing off the barren wasteland. It was inspired by the traditional version sung by the 7 dwarves.
Portilla’s grin widened as she hummed along. Crushir stomped his feet in time, occasionally thumping his chest with the beat, his enthusiasm matching the growing energy around them. Atlas couldn't help but smile, feeling the morale lifting with every verse.
“With Atlas leading the charge, in a grand hero show!”
Atlas chuckled at his mention, the song bringing a lighter tone to the march. He glanced back, seeing warriors grinning as they belted out the lyrics, their spirits visibly lifted.
“With trolls and mini fairies, our spirits are high,
We’re marching through the wasteland, watch our enemies fly!”
The mini fairies danced in the air above, flitting back and forth, their wings catching the fading sunlight. Their high-pitched voices punctuated the song with glee, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” they cried, swirling around Portilla and Crushir, who both seemed to thrive in the spotlight.
The chorus erupted again, louder this time, as warriors swung their swords in time with the chant.
“Hi ho, hi ho, off to battle we go,
Swinging swords and axes strong, putting on quite a show!
With the Portal Crushirs ready, we’ll fight side by side,
Against every foe we face, we’ll take ’em all in stride!”
Alexander, never one to miss a beat, laughed and called out, “That’s the way! Keep it going, y’all! Yeehaw!”
Isabella marched beside the defensive line, keeping her usual stern expression, but even she couldn’t deny the effect the song had on morale. ‘A good strategy,‘ she thought, her mind always calculating. ‘Keep them focused, keep them moving.‘
The next verse echoed louder, each word ringing with determination.
“Hi ho, hi ho, hear the battle drums beat,
With Crushir and Portilla, we’ll never face defeat!
The mini fairies cheer us on, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ they cry,
Together we’ll make history, just watch our spirits fly!”
Crushir glanced at Portilla, giving her a nod as if the song were predicting their victory. They both stood a little taller.
Another booming chorus surged through the ranks, the warriors’ voices filling the air like a war drum. The army felt unified, their steps now purposeful, driven by the song and the camaraderie it inspired.
“Hi ho, hi ho, off to battle we go,
Swinging swords and axes strong, putting on quite a show!
With the Portal Crushirs ready, we’ll fight side by side,
Against every foe we face, we’ll take ’em all in stride!”
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the wasteland, the final verse rang out, powerful and defiant.
“Hi ho, hi ho, through the portal we’ll dash,
To save our home and make a stand, we’ll make a mighty splash!
So gather all your courage, it’s time to show our might,
With Atlas at the front line, we’ll conquer through the night!”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
The army’s voices echoed in the fading light, the song coming to a close as Atlas raised his hand, signaling for them to slow their pace.
The warriors grinned at each other, the song still fresh in their minds, keeping their morale high. Atlas looked at John, nodding in approval. The song had done its job.
The final chorus lingered in the air:
“Hi ho, hi ho, off to battle we go,
Swinging swords and axes strong, putting on quite a show!
With the Portal Crushirs ready, we’ll fight side by side,
Against every foe we face, we’ll take ’em all in stride!”
‘‘‘
Atlas scanned the horizon as his army moved steadily across the wasteland. He could see the divisions within the force, each unit moving with purpose. The shield units marched in tight formation, shields raised and weapons at the ready. Their disciplined steps kept the front line strong, prepared to take any blow the enemy might send.
Behind them, the crossbow units marched with precision, eyes sharp, fingers ready to unleash a barrage of bolts at the first sign of trouble. The tension among them wasn’t fear—it was readiness. They’d trained hard, and it showed.
The medics moved efficiently through the ranks, making sure everything was in order. Water was passed around, and a few were already tending to minor blisters or muscle strains. Barbara led the medics, her sharp eyes scanning the soldiers for any sign of weakness. “Keep it tight!” she called out, her voice carrying a calm authority. “We can’t afford to lose anyone to exhaustion before the fight even begins.”
A small group of scouts moved ahead of the main army, carefully navigating through the barren landscape. Their task was clear—flush out any hidden ghouls or skeletons before the main force arrived. Their speed and agility made them perfect for this job, darting from one cover to the next, eyes scanning every ridge and crevice for signs of an ambush.
Atlas trusted the scouts; they’d proven themselves time and time again. But still, his grip tightened on his twin swords. ‘We can’t afford any surprises,‘ he thought. ‘Not today.‘
Crushir and Portilla stuck close to him, their imposing figures ensuring no one got too near their leader. Portilla’s sharp eyes constantly scanned the perimeter, while Crushir kept his hand close to his weapon, ready to leap into action. Atlas had assigned them to this role for a reason—keeping them close was not only for his safety but to ensure their full potential was used when the time came.
Atlas’s thoughts drifted momentarily as the army continued forward. ‘We’ve come this far. There's no turning back now.‘
The Fort Bone army was a juggernaut of destruction. And the Faith settlements would feel their wrath.
‘‘‘
POV: WASTELAND OASIS
Nadir sat in his tent, the smoke from his hookah curling in the air as the two wounded recruits were dragged before him. His eyes gleamed with contempt as he regarded them. The doctor and nurse, both bloodied and terrified, trembled at his feet.
"So," Nadir began, his voice cold and venomous, "you thought you could flee, abandon the Faith in its hour of glory?"
The doctor, clutching his leg where the crossbow bolt had struck, spoke through gritted teeth. "We... we were never meant to fight. We’re medics! Not warriors!"
Nadir leaned forward, his lips curling into a sneer. "Medics... warriors... it makes no difference. We all serve the Prophet in one way or another. You had a chance to prove yourselves, to rise above your pathetic status, and you chose cowardice instead."
The nurse, wincing from the pain, muttered, "We don’t believe in this. We’re not soldiers for your war."
Nadir's eyes flared with anger. He stood, towering over them as the palm fronds continued to wave from the hands of the women in the background. "Faith is not something you choose. Faith is something you live, something you die for."
He motioned to the guards. "Take them to the pits. Let them see what happens to those who deny the Prophet's will. Make sure everyone witnesses their punishment."
The guards dragged the struggling medics out and threw them into the latrine pits. Already suffering from the crossbow injuries, this was a sure fire way to get an infection.
It was a cruel punishment, but it was the most effective treatment for the disease of cowardice. People all around the makeshift camp could hear their suffering, and the guards armed with crossbows, kept them from escaping.
“Let us out!”
Their screams of protest echoing into the night. Nadir, unfazed, reclined back onto his cushions, inhaling deeply from his hookah.
But the peace didn’t last long.
Suddenly, a howl echoed across the camp. Then another. The air grew thick with tension, the soldiers standing on alert as the distant sounds of claws scraping against the ground filled the oasis.
"Demon dogs," a guard muttered, eyes wide with fear.
The wards around the camp began to hum, glowing faintly as the demonic beasts approached, circling just outside the protection. Dozens of them, their red eyes gleaming in the darkness, paced restlessly. Fangs bared, they snapped at the invisible barrier that kept them at bay, their snarls filling the air.
Nadir, unconcerned, merely waved a hand. "Let them bark. The Prophet's wards will hold. No harm will come to us tonight."
The soldiers, though uneasy, trusted in the wards and remained within the protective circle, weapons drawn but unused. The demon dogs, furious but powerless, prowled the perimeter for hours, their guttural growls mixing with the crackling of campfires. But as dawn began to break, the beasts retreated, fading back into the wasteland from which they had come.
***
The next morning, the army stirred early, the tension of the night fading with the rising sun. Nadir, already up and refreshed, commanded the march to continue.
"Today, we move closer to victory," he proclaimed, his voice booming over the camp. "The Belief Settlement awaits, and with it, our destiny!"
The army, invigorated by their survival of the demon dog attack, packed up camp with swift efficiency. Flags were raised once more, and the massive force began its march again, trudging through the barren landscape with Nadir still carried atop his palanquin.
The path to the Belief Settlement lay ahead, and Nadir's eyes gleamed with the anticipation of the conquest to come.