“Hold! Don’t get scared! Be ready to thrust! Let’s kill these dogs!” loud cries from commanders in an attempt to cheer up the militia were not working. Robert couldn’t see everything, being on the third line in the middle of the ranks, but what could be captured by his eyes clearly showed the lack of any spirit in all surrounding soldiers. The reason was simple. Without any understatement in wording, the front lines were massacred by an experienced and better-geared enemy right before their eyes. This outcome was easily predicted from the beginning as, despite similar numbers on each side, the quality of them differed by a lot.
As Robert heard, the Duke gathered around ten thousand militia, a few thousand experienced warriors, and an unknown quantity of knights for this battle. Rob didn’t know what went to the other four, but it was easy to guess that this one was meant only to cause some damage and to tie some forces. It obviously worked as he didn’t notice any militia at all in the enemy’s ranks. Of course, being inside the crowd in an open and flat field, Robert couldn’t overview everything from above and had very limited vision. Especially taking into account his below-average heights. Still, that was enough to see reactions from others.
“Fuck! I don’t want to die! Let me go!” Screamed one of a soldier in front, trying to turn around, but he was pushed back on the place. With a limited place in dense ranks, he just couldn’t run through. They were put in seven lines with almost no free space between them, almost touching each other with both shoulders. Rob didn’t know the length of the line, but their own formation was second and had a clear gap between the first one. The gap, which soon would cease to exist, together with hundreds of his allies.
“Stay on the spot! Don’t make me kill you from behind!” roared another soldier in return, hitting the back of the panicked man with his fist, “We can make it together! Don’t panic! We will kill every single one of them! For my family and others innocent lives lost in their raids!”
“I don’t want… I was drunk when I sighed in… I want to go home…”
“Oh our dear God Gaokeren, bless my luck in this misfortune event…” his neighbor to left muttered a prayer, while old man Donald was looking into the cloudless sky with a barely noticeable sad smile. Rob heard many more voices, loud or almost non-existent, each with a different attitude and hope.
“I will survive, I will survive! Lily is waiting for me…”
“Shit-shit-shit, why am I not in the last line? I fucking paid a shit load of coins to that red-bearded bastard!”
“Be ready! Act as we trained – put all your weights in thrust! Try not to hurt your fellows!”
Sergeants didn’t stop with their futile attempts to make them into force in the last minutes. The screams of pain, anger, and curses were slowly approaching, bringing also the sounds of metal clashing, thumps, and dying moans. A helmet slightly decreased the volume, but the crowd of thousands couldn’t be quiet. Especially, when it’s fighting in a death battle. Rob almost felt as if the earth trembled under the steps.
“KILL!” roared someone and it immediately chained the reaction of the same rallying cry.
“For the Southern Duchy!” the enemies were not silent, answering with their own voices. Robert could already see their armored figures in the gaps between front soldiers. The enemy had similar to his past equipment and tactic – a row of shield warriors with support from halberdiers. They already had visible marks of previous clashes – dents in armor or shields, blood on weapons, and madness in the eyes.
“KILL, KILL, KILL!” word was repeating from all sides, almost replacing any other thoughts in the mind with it. Rob even noticed how earlier panicked soldier pulled himself together, readying for the first strike. The energy of the crowd seemed to transfer to everyone, despite their previous state. Charging each of them with murderous intent, dispersed all previous fears and anxiety. At least for a moment everyone almost went berserk just to follow the single goal of their existence – to kill. However, the initial clash soon replaced it with another, more primal goal – to survive.
The wall of shields kept a steady pace in pushing through the militia’s ranks. They were quite methodical in it, slowly grinding untrained soldiers. No one tried to jump on spears or rush through the line. Any such breakthroughs would end in a quick death, as being surrounded by several spearmen didn’t leave many chances, especially against multiple simultaneous attacks. Instead, the enemy was like a cold-blooded butcher, who in a calm and even monotonous way was shredding the meat.
Soon Robert had to thrust with his spear in the gaps between his allies. Only a few attacks managed to avoid the enemy’s shields, squeezing through their defense, but only one did some damage, according to a painful shout. The next moment the enemy shortened the distance in an attempt to nullify the advantage of weapon reach. The second line of militia tried to stop them by attacking behind the allies' backs, but with almost non-existent experience, it wasn’t successful. One of the soldiers even pierced the shoulder of his own squad mate, only worsening the situation. In just a few seconds that led to an opening and Robert had to take part in it, focusing on the breach of their rank on the left.
Searching for a good opportunity, Rob waited until the enemy tried to bash him with his shield. Sharp spear’s point pierced the warrior’s armor right into his armpit from the side, going deep inside and immediately making him stumble. The man, who was focusing only on the opponent before him, completely missed the attack and, only after being wounded, directed his eyes to Robert. That was another mistake, as the following thrust from Rob’s neighbor went into his neck. He released a few bloody bubbles from his mouth before collapsing. However, another soldier behind the dead one was already stepping over while swinging his axe, but Rob had to turn his attention from the sides to the front, as by this moment he appeared to be in second line.
Robert still watched ongoing events with his peripheral sight, capturing the fall of his allies and enemies, and their quick replacement, which was literally pushed from behind the ranks. He had to, as it was the only way not to find himself surrounded at some point. Maybe he was more trained than others from the militia, but it was not near enough to hold even four metes of the line on his own.
Focus! Be calm, control surroundings with everyone’s positions, don’t overtax yourself…
Rob continued to repeat crucial points, while he emerged into the fight. Despite the ability to almost revive and regenerate from lethal wounds, one missed hit in the head could easily end him forever. It pressured him, making him move faster in fear of death. He was squeezing everything possible from his body so as not to be just another fallen on this field, pushing it to the real limits. Robert didn’t know what was happening on the battlefield in general – the whole world for him was concentrated in a five-meter radius of the semicircle.
Sidestepping from halberd’s strike, he lowered his spear before making a thrust. The shaft of the weapon traveled within a few centimeters of the ally’s body before the point spearhead pierced the thigh of the nearest enemy, right in the place, where armor was already damaged. To the enemy's credit, the latter not only managed to stay on his feet but also repelled another attack. Still, that made him shift his weights on the injured leg. The wave of pain clearly made him stop for a moment, which was immediately used by Robert.
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Putting all his strength into the direct hit in the warrior’s chest, he made the opponent fall backward, right on the halberdier behind. Before the wounded managed to stand up, Rob’s front soldier in an attempt to quickly finish him off rushed forward, disregarding the surroundings. That ended badly, as axe and mace from both sides practically stroke in the same moment, breaking spearman’s arms together with his ribs. Robert did get deadly revenge on the opened axe-wielder, but now he became the front line and had to face intensive attention to his persona.
They already lost most warriors with shields… crap, I miss one strongly – the shitty spear I have is already more like a stick with a metal end… good, halberdier on the left, shield, and sword with a wounded leg in the middle, shield, and mace on the right. In addition, another halberdier from behind of shield. Need a plan or it will be just a matter of time!
The following thought process made Robert focus on the enemy to the right. The wounded opponent in front of him was no less experienced and trained than others, but his injury decreased his threat level by a huge margin. Moreover, he often prevented the halberdier from behind to make a proper hit because of his shaky state. The best part was that he couldn’t just be replaced, being constantly pushed from the back lines. Any attempt to retreat was quickly countered by Robert’s spear. Another halberdier on the left seemed to be on par with Rob’s ally, which left the mace-wielder as the most dangerous one. Donald tried to keep him at bay, but the difference in skills and strength was obvious.
Somehow, the militia continued to struggle and even managed to stabilize the front line. Of course, now and then, his ally fell to the ground motionless, but the overall situation was not that critical. Their enemies were already tired, wounded, and had lost after killing the first squad, which partly compensated for the lack of training for the militia. That, and the absence of initial battle morale, as both sides started to be more cautious and didn’t rush in a frontal assault. However, Robert didn’t see an optimistic outcome in it as it was only their opponent, and the latter wasn’t the last one. There were definitely more behind the enemy’s backs - fresh and battle-ready. But what choice did he have? Only to continue.
Seeing the swing from a wounded swordsman, Robert hastily intercepted it by directly blocking the blade with a spear shaft. Limited motion didn’t produce enough force to break it, but the wood took another cut on its surface, which never was a good thing. Still, that didn’t stop Rob from continuing his counterattack, as he stepped forward and bashed the enemy’s shield with his shoulder. The injured warrior couldn’t keep the balance and had to make a few shaky steps to stabilize himself, opening the side of the mace wielder to the right. Robert immediately tried to impale the latter, but the man quite skillfully managed to deflect the attack. However, Donald was there too as his spearhead was already flying. The enemy still somehow reacted, raising his shield, but this time it looked like fate itself turned it back on him.
At the exact moment of thrust, the old man was pushed from behind, which accelerated the attack at the last moment. Mace-wielder was fast enough to block it in time, and just pushed the spearhead up by the edge of his own shield. But Donald was still falling forward, which pushed the sharp end of the weapon further and with the addition of going up. It made the spearhead not only cut through the face of the mace-wielder but also blind him in one eye. The painful scream quickly turned into a rage one, as the enemy almost jumped on the fallen old man. Robert tried to stop him but had to block the attack from the halberdier, who was on a second row. This time the strike was heavy enough almost to cut through the wood.
Seeing this, Rob pulled his weapon back before the shaft stuck on halberd’s axe blade only to rotate it, pulling the weapon from the enemy’s hands. Immediately dropping it down, he took his knife from the belt, while kicking his foot into the swordsman’s shield. The latter managed to hold his ground this time, but that allowed Robert to shorten the distance. Kneeing the wounded in the thigh, he gripped the shield of the warrior and pulled it to the side. The pain didn’t give the enemy strength to resist it properly and in a moment Rob’s knife entered his neck.
Despite his sincere wish to get the shield, even when he was holding one, Robert didn’t have the opportunity to use it. The fixation of the arm with straps was enough barrier for him not to lose valuable time in the middle of the battle. Therefore, he just dropped the dead and turned to the right, where Halberdier from a second row was already hitting Donald. Unfortunately, the full motion of the polearm gave enough force to cut through the raised hand of the old man. It hadn’t severed it, but the arm was clearly broken. On the other hand, the previous hasty strike of halberdier killed his own ally, as the mace-wielder was lying motionlessly facing the ground.
Rob didn’t waste any time and moved forward. Gripping the shaft of the halberd, Robert again pulled it to himself, simultaneously pushing his knife into the enemy’s palm. The resistance of the latter died immediately, making him jump back in pain only to collide with others. Before Robert managed to return to his place, his peripheral sight saw a shadow of an incoming blade. His awkward attempt to avoid it ended in tripping against the corpse of a swordsman and falling back. However, that was not what saved him as a familiar red-bearded sergeant in no less familiar armor intercepted the strike with his spear, pushing enemies back.
“Get your ass up or we all will die!” he shouted, not even sparing a glance.
Robert inwardly cursed before hastily getting up with halberd in his hands. This short, but deadly exchange created a small empty space for a while, making both sides to be wary of each other. The enemies still pushed them back slowly, but it was not near the level of the initial clash. No one wanted to die in a dumb rush. On the other hand, no one was going to stop any time soon.
Therefore, Robert thrusted, stroked, hit, and did everything to survive. The sounds of painful moans and screams were pushed into the background of the mind, together with images of the dead. Long was lost a sight on the old man, who didn’t manage to get up after losing his arm. The same fate waited for the red-bearded bastard, whose helmet cracked under a few missed hits of the mace. The whole world narrowed to close surroundings. Robert’s haggard breathing muffled everything, while a flow of sweat constantly disturbed his sight, covering it in almost streams. However, the pain kept him moving. The wound on the forearm from the cut. The gap in teeth from shield bash. The loss of a little finger on the left palm after an unsuccessful block. He didn’t even count the tens of bruises.
Robert seemed to be in a familiar trance when he had been operating his mechanical squad. Completely concentrated on the task of his own survival, he treated his own body as another mech. Disregarding his state, he focused on the efficiency of each movement. And that indeed led to noticeable results as he was still fighting, despite the fact, that from seven lines of militia, only two were left by this point. Soon, he noticed a glimpse of uncertainty in the faces from the opposite side. The latter even stopped their advancements and quickly tried to prepare for something. Using this pause, Robert turned around only to see how around ten knights were already rushing to them with longswords raised.
“Follow the charge!” shouted the nearest of them, literally cutting through the enemy’s ranks.
Of course, there will be no rest… Crap, I am tired as hell and feel even worse…
Robert sighed before gripping his halberd tighter. The blade was already dull, but the weight could compensate for it. He just needed to put more force into each hit. Moreover, he didn’t have time to search for a replacement. Knights indeed cut through the front lines, directly going in the middle of enemies, but that also left enough for beaten militia not to have an opportunity to stay idle. Rob was sure that such a late appearance was deliberate – knights wanted to wear out the enemy before striking hard. Even if this battle was made for loss, the purpose of weakening the opposite side before the final confrontation didn’t cease to exist.
However, before Robert managed to engage the enemies, he noticed swiftly forming dark clouds above him. The speed and the sheer size of it were so unnatural that it even stopped most of the soldiers from fighting in an attempt to see what was happening. Slowly forming whirlpool created a very bad premonition. Just the shadow from it covered a whole battlefield and only a complete idiot couldn’t see where it was going.
Robert started to look around to see where he could hide, but the field was as flat as a table. Moreover, he was surrounded by soldiers from both sides and could be killed as an enemy or a deserter. Therefore, when a few sparks inside the cloud ignited it and huge flaming boulders started to fall to the ground in masses, Rob just dropped to the ground and started to dig in a hopeful attempt to hide beneath the ground. In a few moments, the hell broke loose.