“The practice of raising Death Warriors, soldiers who were often raised and indoctrinated from early childhood to become completely loyal, mindless killing machines who followed their superior’s every order, was not an unheard of practice. Quite a few nobles and royals secretly kept a cadre of such warriors at their beck and call, as a hidden knife in their sleeves.
Publicly however, the often inhumane ways used in the creation and nurture of such warriors were heavily frowned upon, and those who openly revealed their possession of such often found themselves on the receiving end of public criticism and mockery. As such, Death Warriors were most often used in secret, acting in the shadows where their superior would have plausible deniability even should they be discovered.
Nobody had ever caught and interrogated a properly-raised Death Warrior successfully so far, as they would rather take their own lives upon the failure of their missions.” - Liang Si-Zhu, Famed Tactician of the Huan Confederacy, circa 92 VA.
“They’re getting tougher,” stated Lady Griselda as she parried one soldier’s sword with one heavily scarred buckler and a second with the mace in her left hand. At the same time, the flanged mace in her right hand struck and bashed in the side of one soldier’s head, which left the man to crumple on the ground, drugged up or not. “What do we do? They’re catching up as well.”
They found stiffer resistance as they moved closer towards the command tower, and it was noticeable how the soldiers there not only had better armor but also carried proper swords as sidearms to their long spears, unlike the rest they’ve plowed through so far. Much like they had expected, the Central forces had placed their conscripted militia as the fodder up front while they saved their trained private soldiers for their own protection.
Most of the soldiers around the command tower had been distracted as they tried to fight off Reinhardt and Mischka’s detachments, which went around and threatened to encircle the command tower along with the commander himself, which left less for their detachment to deal with. Even so, the resistance was still heavy, and it took them a while to push through the defenders, during which time those on the rear of their formation started to feel the pressure as the Central faction soldiers they pushed through earlier caught up with them.
“We make a hole through their formation,” said Grünhildr nonchalantly, as if that was an easy thing to do. The enemy formation had formed a rough ring around the command tower, with a smaller group - notably dressed differently from the rest - keeping close to guard the tower itself. “Get Friede and her gang to that tower, and let them do what they do best, then we get the fuck out of dodge once they’re done!”
“I don’t have a better suggestion, so let’s do as you suggest,” replied Griselda. She immediately ordered her knights to charge further, and Grünhildr did the same on the other side. Together, they forcefully pried an opening in the defensive formation around the command tower, and Elfriede’s group of twenty-five slipped through said opening.
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When the enemy soldiers saw and wanted to intercept them before they could reach the tower, Griselda and Grünhildr intensified their assault to keep the soldiers on the outer layer of defense occupied, while Reinhardt and Mischka did the same from the sides and the rear, which allowed Elfriede’s group to sneak in uncontested.
They had not participated in the fighting so far, and were thus fresh and ready to fight. Most of the twenty-five were veterans who had done the dangerous work of headhunting in a battlefield for years by then, if not decades, though five of them were newer trainees who were brought along to train on the spot.
As they approached the command tower, the man on top of the tower yelled out some commands, and the dozen soldiers beneath all imbibed what seemed to be a vial of potion. Then they screamed like rabid animals and wielded the large two-handed cleaver-like blades they carried as they charged at Elfriede’s group.
“What the-!?” yelled Olyvee in surprise as she blocked one of the large cleaver-like blades with her own long-knives. The impact from the blow almost wrenched the weapons off the half-elven woman’s hands, and she had to leap back to diffuse the rest of the force. What surprised her the most was how the blow had been far stronger than anything she had expected out of a human.
“Friede! Watch out! I think they’re on some sort of drugs!” she yelled out just as she landed on her feet. The soldier had chased after her and swung his large cleaver once more, but she avoided it this time, noticing that the swing was definitely faster and more powerful than she had seen even big, strong humans like Zyd managed.
“I noticed!” yelled Elfriede back as she leaned under the swing of another soldier and struck after his blade passed. Her mithril-coated blade left a deep cut on the man’s forearm, deep enough to reach the bone. Normally such an injury would have left people unable to wield a weapon with the arm, yet the soldier fought on as if he had felt nothing. “These fucks are drugged up the gills!”
On a closer look, the members of her group noticed how the eyes of the dozen soldiers were blood-red, and that they were leaking blood from the corners of their eyes. They fought like raving lunatics, without any heed to the injuries they received, faster and stronger than a human ought to be by a good bit.
It took nearly a minute before the first one fell down, as Nina, Ylisera, and Kari took him on together. Kari managed to very barely parry away the swing aimed at her, which Nina then struck further out, causing the soldier to lose their balance for a moment. Ylisera then took that opening and jabbed her saber straight into one of the man’s eyes and into his brain, which finally caused him to drop dead.
“Gang on them! Two of you take one each! Have the rookies help out as well!” commanded Elfriede as she took on one of them on her own. The rest of her group quickly ganged up on the remaining soldiers, who fought like possessed madmen and pushed them hard. She made no attempts to block or parry the forceful swings of the cleaver, and instead avoided them as she slashed at the abdomen of the soldier before her.
The mithril edge of her blade cut straight through the man’s chainmail and deep into his flesh, with a wide, gaping wound as the result. Several strands of slimy intestines had drooped out from the opening, yet the man fought on as if he had not noticed the fatal injury. He even tried to fight on even when Elfriede sliced his hands off after a while more, and only gave up the ghost when she punched the dagger-end of her pommel through the roof of his mouth when he tried to bite her.
“Deal with them as best you can! I’m going to take the head of that asshole up top!”