Exarchi raised his head as dust fell onto his head. The muffled sound of battle beyond the closed gate had been raging for days now, and it was easy to tell that the battle was reaching its high point.
The occasional pounding against the door was ignored by the motionless drones as usual. From the corner of his eyes, Exarchi saw the signal. He closed his minimap and took out his axe.
“All units, perform last-minute checks.”
Like a theatrical play, the drones simultaneously checked their weapons, their armor, and their limbs in order. The spider drones clung onto the front and back of their bigger warrior drone counterparts, while the drone cavalry moved to the front.
“Failure is not an option. We only have a few minutes to complete this task,” Exarchi reminded.
“Affirmative,” the drones simultaneously replied.
“Then let us begin.”
The fort’s inner keep gates slid open, and the rhythm of battle was finally heard in full volume. Metal clashed against each other as screams of agony filled the air with terror and despair. Arrows and stones flew everywhere, and blood pools were slowly formed in the thickest of the battlefield.
A few sections of the wall were finally battered down from repeated trebuchet strikes, and the walking dead were spilling everywhere. Oyuf and his warriors were clearly seen on the walls pushing off zombies and skeletons, while brutal melee between the humans and the undead’s soldiers took place at every chokepoint. There was also a clear lack of magical spells in the air.
The drones didn’t even bother to march out—they charged in full force. The stomps of the drone army overtook the rhythm of the battle. The outer gate also flung open, surprising the human defenders guarding it, as well as the undead laying siege to the gates. What surprised them ever more, however, was the weight of the drone cavalry charge.
Horsemen mounted on bull-like monsters carved into the undead sea like a ship breaking through a thin sheet of ice. Every axe swing harvested several heads at once, and their mounts crushed anything that was too close with their plow-shaped heads. Behind them, huskarl drones advanced forward.
Farold watched as the drones burst from the castle gates and wondered, ‘Are they desperate?! Are they trying to break out?!’
The undead forces moved to intercept the drones only to be attacked from the air. It didn’t require technological or magical feats to drop a sharp metal from the air, but the effects were truly devastating. Heads from the weaker undead exploded while the armored soldiers of the Church were torn apart by dozens of bolts directed at them. Several aerial drones also flew dangerously close to the ground, waving their saws around frantically.
However, the sheer number of undead throwing themselves at the drone was too much for even the emotionless war machines. At the center of the drone push, Exarchi could see his army’s number slowly dwindle.
"Hold." The drones stomped into the ground, rooting themselves firmly.
"Push." The wall of shields and spear lashed out, instantly deleting an entire wave of undead.
Step by step, Exarchi came closer to his objective. However, the Church's soldiers stepped in to plug the gaps. Their soldiers raised their metal shields and held their spears over their heads. Unlike the brainless swarmlings of the Clergy, the Nobility’s undead soldiers fared tremendously better against the drones. Their discipline and innate combat abilities stood as a brick wall against Exarchi’s advance.
Undaunted by the Church’s attempt to stop him, Exarchi brought out his own weapons - his mage drones! Though numbered less than a dozen, the drone mages' combination of electric shock and fire burnt the undead lines. Not only that, the spider drones attached to the drone warriors electrified themselves and leapt out, causing carnage among the Church’s soldiers.
"They're using magic?!" a lich next to Farold gasped.
"This doesn't make sense. How can they…" Farold groaned and stopped himself. "No. Now is not the time for questions! Templars! Stop them!"
The Church's elite troops moved in, charging into the lines with their falxes. They pushed the drones’ spears and slashed into their shields. Their power was enough to even decapitate some warrior drones in one slice, but obviously even a beheading wasn’t enough to stop a rampaging drone. Hands popped up from the ground, trying to grab the drones from below, but Exarchi simply ordered the mage drones to burn the ground.
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The humans on the walls couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched legions of burning men locked in fierce deathmatch. The air filled with the stench of blood, charred corpse, and sweat. The rhythm of the battle raged on as the drones got ever closer to the ‘Weapon’ of the Church.
“Stop the enemies of the Church!” Farold cried out.
The undead turned their attention to the drones and switched targets immediately. Every skeleton, zombie, and any other rotting monstrosity rushed into the drone lines, kicking and biting. In an instant, the drone charge crawled into a stop.
“Idiots,” Exarchi remarked as the situation became dire for him… from the perspective of the undead.
Farold raised his head in surprise. “I sense the living!”
Red-and-white banners rose from the horizon, followed by standards depicting a yellow dried tree. The Rhankish horsemen led by Captain Rems and the nomadic riders led by King Zigisma have arrived!
Before they could even react, the forces of the Church were smashed by a huge contingent of fresh drone cavalry. The plow-like heads of their mounts bulldozed through the dead like they were soft soil, and the riders’ axes silently gave many of the undead their last rites.
At the head of the drone cavalry was none other than Princeps—his dark plate armor and waving red cape burned into the memories of the human defenders. He held a bluish sword which tore entire ranks of the undead seamlessly. At this point, it was as if the dead were lining up to get a chance to get sliced in half by Princeps!
‘Princeps, this is Exarchi. Do you see the target?’ Exarchi asked in hivespeak.
‘Affirmative.’
‘Capture the newly acquired drone. My forces will tie them down. Afterwards, let’s leave the humans,’ Exarchi said.
‘Confirmed,’ came the reply.
Spider drones leapt from zombie to zombie, tearing their heads off, while Princeps’ cavalry carved a new path to the Weapon of the Church. The drones didn’t aim to neutralize the undead, so they left the clean-up duty to the advancing human cavalry force.
There wasn't much resistance once Princeps got to the Weapon because there weren’t many undead soldiers defending the thing in the first place. After cutting down the two liches guarding the box, Princeps climbed onto the cart-like machine and grabbed the Weapon. It was almost thrice the size of him, and he was already taller than his lesser brethrens.
‘Observation. Quite an interesting design. It’s unlike anything we’ve seen before,’ Princeps said.
‘Less talking, more moving, Princeps. You’re surrounded by-’ Exarchi was interrupted when a loud howl was heard across the battlefield.
“The demons will turn the Weapon against us! Retreat! Heaven has forsaken us this day!” a lich yelled. A bulk of the Church’s forces started fleeing with their armies, leaving behind the Clergy’s templars and mobs.
“Brother Farold! The Nobility is retreating! The cowards!” a lich bowed and reported.
“We must press on! The castle is almost ours!” another lich urged.
Farold watched as the drones scrambled to knock their trump card off its cross. There wasn’t much he could do. After all, he didn’t expect his foes to just steal the feared Weapon of the Church!
“Orders, Brother Farold?! The demons are moving!”
“Retreat! We cannot take the castle without the Nobility or the Weapon!” Farold ordered.
As the drones pushed back into the castle, the undead scattered like grains in the wind while the mobs held the humans back. It took almost three days for the last of the brainless swarm to be eradicated, but in the end, the castle stood.
Atop the highest tower in the outer section, a bloodied Oyuf raised a burning branch and shouted, “We have earned our glory in the eyes of Humanos, lads!”
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Lord Tanne sat on a throne guarded by his twin bodyguards. The liches in front of him discussed their plans softly as if they would offend anyone if they speak louder. Their rusty rings and long bracelets jingled as they waved their arms around, and their tattered robes had seen better days.
A thin-looking man stepped forth and bowed to Tanne. He proposed, “If the plan fails, my lord, we could always go south-east to find more support. The nobles there are discontent with-”
Suddenly, the doors flung open. A grotesque creature made out of eyeballs entered the room and scanned the halls with its countless eyes. It slithered towards Tanne and reported, “The plan is a success. Lord Escar and his subordinates caused the Nobility to rout during the final assault into the lost fortress.”
The room became noisier as the liches gave their praises and acknowledgement. The gloomy atmosphere lightened up as a sense of hope grew within the lifeless undead lords.
“With this… the fracture within… shall grow.” Tanne grinned and continued, “Those things… owe me a debt.”
“Are you sure they aren’t demons, my lord?” a lord asked. “Our souls will be damned if Heaven ever found out that we were colluding with evil.”
“Fools. The Pontiff is content with-... using that damnable thing of demonic… origins!” Tanne shouted as he strained his voice. After a violent bout of coughs, he added, “Perhaps our souls were already damned from the beginning.”
The room went quiet, and the dead froze with long-forgotten fear. Tanne waved his hand and said, “But perhaps not. Either way-... the path to freedom is open. The Clergy shall… pay for their arrogance. Gather more supporters, but be cautious.”
“What about the… demons, lord?” someone else asked.
“I shall… deal with them. If the heretics can-... negotiate with them, why can’t we do the same?”