Darius was stuck behind the advancing shield wall, unable to swing his hammer. He thought about trying to swing through the wall, but it was too risky. He might end up blowing a hole in their defense and condemning them to a grisly fate.

He’d made his weapon as a final afterthought the morning of the battle when all the soldiers were already as equipped as they could be, and Marth had sent the other smiths back to their homes or to the barracks if they had military training. Darius was too valuable to have risk his life, so he’d been secured away in the Forge so he could tinker, and a small squad was assigned to his protection.

He’d commandeered one of the soldiers as his temporary apprentice – a lady by the name of Ainth. She helped him steady the crucible and cast while he poured in a combination of tin and copper – an alloy he’d been experimenting with in his moments of free time at the Royal Forge. When he imbued it with the Explosion spell, he told Ainth and the other guards to step back.

“I’m trying something new here, and I’m not sure how well it will go. Yeah, probably outside the building, yep.”

They backed up bit by bit until he decided they were no longer at risk. As for himself, he wasn’t so sure. He thought starting with the Strike spell might’ve been more prudent.

He hesitated a moment before shouting ‘Et-mino!’ and striking the hammer, praying that it wouldn’t blow up in his face. But as his hammer descended, he knew he was going to be okay.

It just felt right.

When he struck his work, nothing out of the ordinary happened. It glowed the usual green – as did the hammer he wielded – and after the initial glow, it pulsated between blue and green.

Now to test it out.

He assumed it would just alternate between the Explosion spell and the Strike spell, but when he convinced the guards to let him outside to test – he threatened swinging it inside – he was surprised. His first swing created a ripple of small explosions every couple meters, then when the ethereal shape of the green hammer faded, a final explosion ripped the earth beneath it to shreds, tossing up grass and dirt.

He couldn’t let a weapon like this go unused, and he told the guards to ready their gear and follow him. After seeing the destruction he caused, they weren’t itching to argue with him.

He was pulled from his daydream when one of the remaining giants thumped through on their left side where the shield wall was taking a battering from the brunt of the underkind. They’d worked out that the spears at the front were impossible to claw through, and the swarm had maneuvered to the west.

Marth stood near him and shouted at him to get back. But Darius had a clear line of sight. He stepped back, giving himself some room to deliver a powerful blow. When he swung, he felt the power traveling down his arm, appearing as the green essence that formed into a hammer and sped towards the beast. The largest explosion ignited just in front of the giant, sending it high in the air and crashing down into a shattered house. A beam from the roof stuck up from the rubble, and it punctured through the beast, erupting out from its chest. It sighed, and it was dead.

“Holy hell Darius! Why didn’t you make me one of them?”

“Didn’t know I could till this morning! Kind of an obvious thing to try, if you think about it. Wanna have a go?”

Marth did want to have a go, but the wave of underkind that broke through with the giant was making its way through the crowd of soldiers, targeting those with unimbued weapons. Marth dispatched two with a quick thrust, then was driven away from Darius as he protected an exposed squad of Barringvale soldiers.

Darius broke out from his cramped position, launching cataclysmic blows to the ranks of underkind. After the hours of fighting, they were starting to push back on the pernicious bastards, driving them back down the main street to the gate.

The men could feel their impending victory, and unavoidable grins snuck their way onto those at the front, who could see and feel the thinning crowd of monsters before them. The spearmen parted from the shield wall and rushed down the path, thrusting at the retreating creatures. Arrows zipped overhead, pinning down the giant that remained near the gate, and claiming dominion over more of the underkind.

Like Heldrus had seen in the cavern, they all seemed to have some kind of internal connection that let them act in unison. One moment, they’d been scratching and biting into the shields and spears that bristled out at them, and the next they all began to flee, rushing back the way they came.

The soldiers broke ranks, chasing after the underkind with the unbridled courage all men got at the end of a victorious battle. Heldrus, Marth and Mitrev had to shout a squall of orders to keep the men from chasing them out the gate.

The remaining underkind, only about thirty, swerved left and headed for the mountains. Heldrus knew exactly where they were going. They would return to that cavern and recuperate.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

It wasn’t over.

The soldiers jeered and cried out, hugging each other and throwing away their weapons, or placing them down if they happened to be explosive.

Heldrus was concerned about the spread of infection between the celebrating soldiers, but they were all heavily armored, with their hands and face being the main susceptible areas. They would have to be extremely careful in the clean-up.

“Soldiers of Erinstone and Barringvale! We are victorious!”

Mitrev was taking the glory for himself, but Marth and Heldrus didn’t mind. The soldiers would remember the faces of those who fought alongside them, not those that slinked around the rear, dodging any semblance of danger.

The men whooped and shook their fists. Heldrus called out next.

“It is extremely important that if you have directly touched the underkind or their blood, you go to the infirmary immediately. The infection spreads within hours, and if you forego losing a finger or hand, it will spread to the rest of you, and you'll turn into one of them.

He raised his left stump as a kind of encouragement.

I did it, and you can too!

Some of the soldiers trundled up to the infirmary, taking care in removing their armor where they felt the telltale heat of the infection.

For a bunch of soldiers about to have a part of their body amputated, they were jolly about it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

That night, a mass funeral was held just outside the gate. The burial was sombre, but the warmth of a bonfire kept everyone’s spirits up, and it became a celebration. Tables of food were brought from the castle kitchens, the bakeries and the other stalls around Barringvale, enough to feed their Erinian guests as well.

Darius was relieved to find Bart alive and well after the fight, albeit a little shaken. He’d managed to hide away in a second-floor house, and he’d seen the giant that Darius killed get impaled on the remains of the house across the street from his. They sat together, master and apprentice reunited.

Heldrus plucked up the courage to talk to Silfor. She’d come back from the castle an hour or so after the battle, but she hadn’t been able to find King Tarth, and he still hadn’t appeared from wherever he was hiding. Heldrus asked Marth about it, but he was just as confused as he was.

“Dad’s a great fighter, too. Always led his men from the front, so I expected he’d make it to the battle at some point. I really don’t know.”

Marth was content to let things sort themselves out. He spent most of the night with a girl who he introduced to Darius as Eleanor. From the way Marth looked at her, Darius could tell that this was the woman that Marth had told him about when they’d approached Barringvale together after the battle at the forest.

It was confirmed when she started singing to a popular Barringvale hymn of thanks. She couldn’t land a note to save herself. It was hilarious, but he had to hold back his laughter, especially in front of the future Queen.

It was a tense moment when Silfor and Mitrev spoke to Marth for the first time. Two of the three Erinians most responsible for the death of Marth’s men and their torturous escape from Erinstone faced him, unsure if he would forgive them or order them to the gallows. Mitrev had his sword on his hip just in case.

It was Eleanor who decided for him. Marth became stiff and silent when they approached, having dreaded this moment since the battle ended. He didn’t know how he felt himself, though he knew that the arrival of the Erinians had been essential in the defense of Barringvale. Erinstone had already suffered enough for their debts to be repaid. Eleanor stepped forward and took Silfor’s hands.

“Whatever our two kingdoms have done to each other, we have no choice but to stand against those monsters. Marth and I consider you as friends, and the men under your command will be treated as our own. We have a lot to rebuild, and we will need your help.”

She wasn’t wrong. If they were to be ready for the next time the underkind attacked, Barringvale would have to be reinforced. Thicker, higher walls, and enough magical weapons to arm every soldier. Darius and Bart had a lot of work ahead of them.

When Darius discovered that Bart could also imbue weapons, he was overjoyed.

“Already! I can retire! Praise the gods, Bart, two months and you’re already showing me up.”

Bart went cherry-red at the praise, surrounded by drunken soldiers that clashed their cups and cheered for every nice word said.

“My stuff isn’t as powerful as yours I don’t think, but I’ve definitely got a better source now for those strong emotions you told me about. The stuff I was pulling from before was a little...drab.”

He glanced at Silfor, still grappling with forgiveness.

When the fire died down, Heldrus sat with Marth on a table that used to be laden with food. Not a scrap was left.

“That was only a vanguard, Marth.”

“Yep.”

“I saw them down there. The pack that attacked us today would’ve been maybe a month’s worth of what came out of those egg sacs, and they grow them instantly.”

“I know, it’s far from over.”

They stared into the coals, battling between the anxiety of what might come tomorrow, and the exhilaration of defeating them that day.

“I think I have to go back to the mountain.”

“No.”

“Someone must destroy that orb! I could take an imbued weapon, like what Darius has...”

“No. Not happening. For now, I need you here. You know more about the underkind than we do, and there’s lots to study up on. It’s amazing how much writing we have about them that we thought was just an ancient fairytale.”

Heldrus didn’t respond. He felt drawn to the orb like the underkind must be. He was convinced that it somehow controlled them, or at least influenced them somehow. Now that magic was on the table, anything was possible.

Darius sat down between them with three tankards.

“These are the dregs, lads. Bottom of the barrel, like us, eh?”

He was drunk, and very entertained by his own joke. Marth took a cup and sipped at the foam.

“Speak for yourself, mate. Now that we know any old fart can make magic weapons, you’ll be out of a job!”

“Ha! Thank the gods, you won’t have to lock me up after all.”

The fire burnt low enough now that the slow breeze running across the plain was sending chills up their spines. It no longer crackled, and the distant insects could be heard chirruping their night-calls. The three finished their tankards and stood, wobbling back to the city.

As they crossed the threshold into Barringvale, Heldrus spoke.

“Looks awful now, but we’ll rebuild. Tear down this old shit and come back with something that’ll give those fuckers something to think about. Together, we’ll win.”

Darius looked around them for a moment, staring out the gate at the blank wilderness.

“Aye.”