POV : BELIEF SETTLEMENT OUTSKIRTS
Before Atlas settled in for the night, he had his men loot the battlefield. Every piece of armor, usable weapons, and mana coins were gathered. The mini faeries helped. This time, the mana coins went to Atlas, after the Red Fairy’s tax. While men didn’t drop mana coins, they still had pouches. “Coins! Coins!”
The loot was distributed by John based on the agreed upon conquering army split, with every person involved getting a good chunk of the spoils. The men didn’t have much to spend it on, except for upgrading their armor or weapons if needed. The Belief Settlement, being a military camp, didn’t have a brothel, tavern, or fighting arena. They did enjoy eating at the restaurant, though.
Near the campfire, a few new recruits huddled together, talking excitedly about their first battle.
“Man, I thought I was dead when those crossbows fired at us,” one recruit said, wide-eyed. “Swear a bolt almost took my head off.”
The second recruit laughed. “Yeah, and then Titus charged in like a maniac, swinging that giant club of his. I laughed so hard when he said, ‘Mama said bad guys get bashed.’ Guess he was right.”
The third recruit, who was sharpening his sword, grinned. “You guys see Atlas out there? He’s a beast! Took down soldiers like they were nothing. I swear, one day, I’m gonna fight like him.”
“You? Fight like Atlas?” The second recruit snorted. “Bro, you can barely swing that sword without tripping over yourself. You could spray your armour pink, though.”
They all laughed, but the first recruit shook his head, still serious. “Yeah, man, we’re lucky to be in his army. There’s no better place to be.”
‘‘‘
After a full night’s rest, Atlas and his army woke with renewed strength. The wasteland was merciless, but they had started to adapt to its harshness. Atlas and the Portal Crushers were excited to take over the Faith Settlement. They knew that the army had been routed, and the settlement was probably empty now, except for whoever they had left behind. They planned to double-time march all the way there. But it wouldn’t be easy. Two days of marching for an army that had already gone through a major fight and only had one night of rest was no simple task.
The army had lost 42 men out of 400. ‘Not bad,‘ thought Atlas. He still winced, thinking of the memorial tablet in Fort Bone, where the names of the fallen would be inscribed as their dog tags broke.
‘‘‘
He stood tall before the crowd, his voice steady and filled with conviction as he gave an inspiring speech to rally the men. Every word he spoke seemed to cut through the air, electrifying the hearts of those who listened.
“Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor, dumb bastard die for his country.”
A wave of agreement rippled through the crowd, fists clenched, eyes narrowing in focus.
“Citizens of Fort Bone traditionally love to fight. All real warriors love the sting of battle…” he paused, his eyes scanning the sea of warriors, every face lit with fierce determination. “The very thought of losing is hateful to us.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, fueling a shared fire. He gestured toward the Earth’s Children, who proudly hoisted massive Fort Bone flags, their expressions fierce, unwavering. The flags waved in the wind like bold proclamations of defiance. A cheer erupted from the soldiers, their voices raw and charged with a readiness for battle. They were no strangers to hardship; they had fought for every scrap of peace they had, and this was no different.
John stood back, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He recognized the cadence of the speech. ‘Atlas always did have a thing for cribbing from the greats‘, John thought, amused. ‘It was classic Atlas, blending famous words with their current struggle. But if it worked, who cared?’
‘‘‘
The army trudged forward, the earth crunching beneath their boots as they marched through the wasteland. Dust kicked up with every step, the wind carrying it like a warning of what was to come. For two long days, they had pressed on, their legs heavy with exhaustion, their minds restless with thoughts of the battle ahead. Every footfall felt like a reminder of how much farther they still had to go.
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Atlas led from the front, his gaze fixed on the horizon, though his mind never strayed far from the men behind him. The sun hung high, beating down on them, making the long trek feel even more punishing. The air was thick, the kind that clung to you like a second skin.
"Keep moving!" Atlas called out, his voice steady, keeping pace with the march. He could hear the quiet murmurs, the subtle groans of fatigue from his soldiers.
The landscape was bleak and unforgiving—nothing but barren ground stretching for miles. Still, it was the silence that unsettled him most. ‘Too quiet‘, he thought. And he was right.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement—fast and low to the ground. “Ghouls!” someone shouted, and the ranks instantly tightened.
The creatures erupted from the shadows, grotesque and unnatural, their long limbs carrying them with frightening speed. They rushed forward, their claws outstretched, mouths agape with twisted, hungry grins.
Atlas didn’t even hesitate.
“Shields up!” he barked, and the soldiers moved like a well-oiled machine, shields locking into place with a loud ‘CLANG‘. The ghouls collided with the front line, a fury of teeth and claws. The clash of metal and flesh filled the air, men grunting as they shoved the creatures back.
Atlas drew his sword, cutting down a ghoul with a swift, practiced motion. Another lunged toward him, but a nearby soldier cleaved it in half before it got close. The skirmish was short but intense, and soon the ghouls were retreating, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.
"They’ll keep testing us," Atlas muttered to John, wiping the green ichor from his blade. "Hoping to catch us off guard."
John nodded, his face grim. "They’re only the appetizer."
***
As night fell, the temperature dropped, and the soldiers’ breath came in visible puffs as they set up camp. The darkness brought its own horrors. The howls of demon dogs echoed in the distance, a sound that rattled even the bravest of men. The ground seemed to shudder with their approach, as if the earth itself feared their presence.
Atlas knew what was coming. He had felt it every night since the march began. Demon dogs never waited long before launching an attack, and sure enough, moments after the first howl, the camp was on alert.
The dogs appeared like shadows, their massive, hulking forms blending into the night, glowing red eyes cutting through the darkness. They circled the camp, growling low, testing their defenses.
“Hold steady!” Atlas yelled, watching as the soldiers drew their weapons, forming a tight perimeter around the camp. The wards they had set up flickered faintly, glowing blue, keeping the beasts at bay for now.
The demon dogs charged suddenly, their speed terrifying as they slammed into the wards, sending out flashes of light. The soldiers held their ground, spears and swords at the ready.
‘THWIP.‘ Crossbow bolts flew through the air, striking the beasts, though not always killing them.
YYYYIPPP
The demon dogs howled in pain, the wards wouldn’t let them through, and the crossbows were firing constantly from within the protection.
“They’re testing us again,” John shouted, eyeing another dog. “They’re waiting for a weak point!”
“Keep firing!” Atlas commanded. The soldiers roared in response, launching more shots. FThe demon dogs, relentless as they were, began to pull back, sensing they wouldn’t break the camp that night.
Finally, the last of them slunk back into the shadows, their red eyes lingering just out of sight before they disappeared into the blackness. The camp was left in tense silence, every man on edge, waiting for the next attack.
Atlas stood there, breathing hard, his eyes scanning the darkness. He knew they wouldn’t have peace for long. There was always another threat, always another test. But for now, they had survived another night.
“We keep moving at dawn,” he said quietly to John, his voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t stop until we reach those walls.”
Titus, ever the curious one, piped up as they settled down for the night.
“Why doesn’t everyone use these demon wards all the time instead of always relying on the mana dome of MegaAwesomeness?” His tone was almost innocent, like he’d stumbled on a foolproof solution.
Atlas sighed, his mind already miles away, remembering. His voice was quieter when he responded, tinged with the weariness of experience.
“The demon dog wards can only link to a certain size,” he said, glancing at Titus with a tired smile.
***
He hadn’t been in the town when the wards failed, but he had heard the stories—the horror that spread like insidious gossip through every survivor’s lips. They had thought the wards were enough, a solution to keep the creatures at bay. It worked at first, holding back the nightmarish onslaught. For three long days, the town had stood strong.
Then, on the fourth night, the wards overloaded from the relentless attacks. The defenses burned out, flickering once before plunging the town into chaos. What followed was a bloodbath. Screams filled the air, the townspeople slaughtered in their sleep, helpless against the demon dogs that tore through their streets.
The reports had reached Atlas too late. By the time he learned of the disaster, the town was nothing more than a graveyard. He wasn’t there, but the memory of the failure lingered in his mind like a dark shadow.
***
“The more attacks the portable wards absorb, the faster they overload,” he said, his voice firm. The men didn’t need the full details, but they could feel the gravity of his words. They couldn't afford to trust temporary solutions for too long. Not in a world where mistakes cost lives.
John watched Atlas in silence, noticing the flicker of something dark pass across his friend’s face before he composed himself again. This war was wearing on all of them, but none more than Atlas, who bore the burden of every decision. Every victory. Every failure.
The wind howled in the distance, and the night began to settle around them like a heavy blanket. The march wasn’t over yet, and neither was the fight in their hearts. They would push forward—because that’s what Fort Bone did.
And they would make sure it was the enemy dying for their cause.
‘‘‘‘