Those baling enemies liked to make us wait.

Either that or they were really slow.

Perhaps cautious too.

I would be too if I heard that a ragtag company took two companies out.

A dangerous ragtag company we might be, but we were like an arrow at the end of its flight.

If it hit you, you’d be in for a world of hurt. But if you stepped back and waited, we’d fall to the ground helplessly.

But they didn’t know that.

Thank Falka that even with his...no - her caution, the enemy came for us, eventually.

The enemy commander was a petite female with a bow as large as she was and she was warily looking at Sir Chase, who spat to the side as he exchanged hostile stares with her.

The clash of the archers, though, was the least of our concerns.

Because of one simple reason.

Ballistas.

Or Carro-Ballista. Singular.

Because there was only one of the Baling things, but it was enough to send a jolt of panic through our ranks.

The enemy had formed and were just staring at us before they wheeled the ballista to behind their front lines on an elevated ridge and then cranked it back as they it pointed at us.

The next second, Sir Galen bellowed,

“Advance! Advance! Advance!”

With a clash of his spear against his shield, He was the first one to rush toward the enemy lines.

With a roar, we followed, only to watch horror-struck as a ballista bolt ripped by Sir Galen, who escaped it by a hair's width, the sheer momentum of the shaft passing by, throwing him to the side.

Recovering, he spat and hollered, “Don’t you dare stop. Get stuck in those lines if that’s the last thing you do. Archers! Suppressing fire on that Baling thing!”

I yelled as our line passed Sir Galen, who was still getting back on his feet, looking right and left to make sure that Sia and Ares were beside me, and then - we were stuck in, to put it crudely.

I fought and fought for a long period, but when I looked at the sun, gasping; I found it had been barely a minute.

Bal, these men are tough, I thought as our line was swapped out carefully for the next line - a difficult maneuver, but the first two ranks of our line were exclusively castle guards and thus; it was executed flawlessly, barring my bit of fumbling around.

Panting, I dared a few glances around to see the situation and, from what I could see; it wasn’t too good.

Sir Chase and the enemy commander were engaged in a ranged battle against each other; a battle that Sir chase was losing as he conserved his warforce arrows.

The remaining archers were trying to suppress the ballista, but then a group of enemies peeled off and formed a shield wall around the carroballista operator and the machine itself, foiling the archer’s attempts.

Then the enemy commander barked out a series of orders to which a resounding “Hooah!” sounded out.

The cacophony of the battle drowned out all noise that we could hear except the ‘Hooah’, but it was enough.

Eyes widening, my brother threw the sword of the Drayke’s into the finite stone before summoning another bigger shield and running to where the archers were.

Midway, the shieldwall guarding the carroballista opened up, and a bolt flew at Sir Chase.

Bellowing with madness, my brother crossed one shield in front of the other at different angles and, with his warforce covering him, jumped in front of the blur that was the ballista bolt.

For a second, I felt my throat dry up and time slowed.

Then I saw my brother’s body spin through the air and fall heavily a distance away, unmoving.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“No!” I cried out and was about to dash toward him, but I couldn’t break ranks, or else I would doom everybody in my file.

Then my brother’s hand moved and slowly he levered himself to his feet, swaying groggily.

He looked around before spotting his shield with a long bolt buried in it.

Walking over, I thought he was going to salvage the shield, but he wrapped his arms around the bolt that was as thick as a sapling before grunting heavily and yanking the bolt out.

Confused, I watched on, and then my jaw almost dropped.

Because he took the bolt in his hand and running forward, hurled it like an artillery turret - straight at the Gold rank commander who watched, aghast, as the bolt blurred toward her.

Giving a piercing cry, the commander used her bow like a sword, generating multiple bladeglows that shaved splinters off the bolt but failed to deviate it by much.

Paling, the commander, blocked the bolt with her bow - warforce rushing rapidly into it - only to be hurled back as the bow splintered apart.

Spitting blood, she flew through the air until she collapsed at the rear of the enemy archers.

The enemy who saw this felt their morale drop, whereas we roared lustily and began pressing them faster and harder.

Then Sir Galen screamed out, “Leonidas, take the baling carroballista out! It’s our only chance!”

Growling furiously, our teacher kicked his opponent hard and then, jumping back, his warforce armor retreated and then... fur.. fur began growing?

In shock, I watched as our teacher became taller, more dangerous, more... feline?

I watched his lion-eyes turn into true lion eyes - yellow with vertical pupils - and his nails elongate until they were talons that he flexed freely.

Then the warforce flowed out of him, forming a perfect set of beast-like armor and then our teacher roared at the sky.

I blinked, and he was gone.

Looking around rapidly, I saw a blur approach the Carroballista.

The enemies in the shieldwall in front of the Carroballista braced, only to find their ranks shredded open and people being bodily thrown as the human-shaped beast rampaged through their ranks.

Finally, our teacher jumped onto the carroballista and grabbing the operator - gruesomely tore the terrified man into two before howling at the rest of the flabbergasted enemies... and us, his allies.

Then he turned his attention to the Carroballista and, with furious sounds, left deep slashes in the mechanism before cutting apart all the ropes of the ballista.

Then he snarled in anger at the petrified enemies before turning and flashing toward the defenseless archers where another scene of slaughter ensued.

“What are you all looking at! Carve them up!” Bellowed Sir Galen as he cut down his distracted opponent and charged into the enemy ranks.

Roaring, we followed suit and carved up the enemy ranks one line at a time like efficient reapers.

Soon the enemy ranks buckled further and more men and women on the enemy side began looking back fearfully.

Then one ran.

Another followed.

Like a trigger, the enemy ranks completely broke apart, and they ran for their lives.

Lives that we weren’t too keen on sparing seeing that they weren’t surrendering but fighting for their lives while retreating.

Panting, I stopped where I was and searched for our teacher while the rest of the castle guards and seedlings chased after the broken enemy.

Then I spotted Sir Leonidas, hunched over and letting out small pained growls.

Cautiously approaching, I called out, “Teacher?”

Lifting his head, the man-beast that was our teacher sniffed and turned toward me before shooting forth like an arrow and grabbed me by the throat and roaring!.

Gasping out in pain and grunting out the words, I said, “Te-Teacher...it’s me Faustus!”

Tilting his head, the teacher looked at me before his claws began advancing, inch by inch, breaking apart my skin before something in the teacher's eyes changed, and with a shink, the claws retracted.

Letting go of me, Teacher reeled back - gasping for breath - before falling to his knees and crying out in agony as his warforce receded and his beastlike aspects began withdrawing.

Behind him, a corpse rose.

A ‘corpse’ that was actually the female commander whose breastplate had a hole in it and the chopped-off part of the bolt still stuck in it.

Grimacing, she drew her sword and advanced, limping, toward the defenseless teacher.

Coughing from having my throat squeezed, I stood protectively in front of the Teacher.

Scowling heavily, the female commander raised her sword to cut me down first, only to stumble back as Ares bear tackled her from the side.

Falling down, she grunted and kicked Ares off and tried to rise only for Sia to launch herself at her.

Fighting her off, she finally stood back up shakily and tottered toward us three, who stood united in front of her, determined to defend our teacher to death.

Right then, an arrow shot by and sprouted from the woman’s forehead.

With eyes wide open in shock, she staggered forward one last step before falling down in a heap.

Looking back, we saw Chase holding his bow and softly saying in disdain, “Hag. I would’ve taken only two arrows to kill you before had I had those two arrows.”

Shooting him a look of gratitude, we went carefully toward the teacher and turned him over from where he had fallen.

Only to see him fast asleep with occasional grimaces on his face from the pain.

Relieved, we looked at each other before looking South.

We won.

Another battle, another victory.

Surely now our struggles are over, right? Right?