Chapter 25
The residents of the Grössenburg slums rushed inside their ramshackle homes, praying to whatever gods they chose as their patrons to keep them safe. Families huddled together as they felt the rumbling of soldiers marching past.
The Bickenstadt coalition had breached the invincible walls of Grössenburg, the first time in the great city's history, and they were marching through the streets on their way to the second layer of defenses.
Imperial and Bickenstadt companies exchanged shots, the Imperials firing in individual volleys and retreating before the Bickenstadters could respond. The slums were massive and sprawling, with medium sized streets that only a single company at a time could traverse. The slums were not designed for commerce, so their streets were far smaller than that of the rest of the city.
Imperials holed up at a neglected square, using the waterless fountain for cover and the various rotting and abandoned crates and boxes as barricades. Approaching them came the 12th Brayherd Century in their running testudo, supported by four companies of janissaries behind them. Imperials fired at the Brayherds and a single goatman fell as a bullet found the smallest gap in their shield wall, forcing those behind him to stumble over his lifeless corpse.
The Brayherds sped up, Imperial volleys bouncing off of their shields harmlessly as they raced towards the defenders. Janissaries fired at the Imperials from behind the testudo, dropping handfuls of men at once.
The Brayherds vaulted over the barricade with the grace of an olympic athlete, keeping their shields perfectly level all the while, and smashed into the Imperial line. Bayonets glanced off their shields and gladius thrust out with lightning speed, sticking into necks and guts with ease, piercing their cotton gambesons.
Janissaries flooded the Brayherd formation, filling in the gaps that formed as they spread out to engage the Imperials in melee. A Brayherd thrust his shield forward, stumbling an Imperial and almost knocking the musket out of his hand. A second later a janissary flicked his wrist around his guard and chopped the man’s armpit, severing the large artery there.
A janissary parried a strike aimed at a Brayherd’s exposed flank, and the Brayherd kicked the Imperial in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and forcing him down on his knees. Before he could stand the janissary was on him, hacking him to death in a flurry of precise, devastating strikes.
A Brayherd grabbed an Imperial’s musket as he thrust at a nearby janissary, ripping it out of his hands with ease. The janissary chopped at the man’s neck, dragging his blade out as it got stuck in the man’s spine. He nodded at the brayherd who smiled, or at least the janissary assumed that was what he was doing.
Within a few minutes the Imperials broke, running away and ignoring their officers ordering men back in line. The Brayherds rushed after them, knocking over and slaughtering the men in a similar way that cavalry did in an open field battle.
The janissaries followed after their comrades, finishing off anyone still writhing on the ground after getting caught by the Brayherds.
|
The Baron killed three men in less than a second, deftly flicking his saber over and around guards and slicing through light, unenchanted gambeson like it wasn’t even there. He knew that three men would thrust their bayonets at him, but only one of them would hit a gap in his armor. He parried the thrust and slid his saber up the length of the man’s musket before opening a massive wound in the man’s face, allowing the other two strikes to glance off his armor harmlessly.
He made short work of the two remaining men, ducking a strike with the butt of a musket and slashing his inner thigh before coming up and chopping off the man’s head. In the same motion he swung at the other man and at the last second he flicked his saber over the man’s guard, stepping forward pushing his saber all the way to the hilt into the man’s neck.
An entire company of Imperials wheeled around the corner and the Baron retreated back to his grenadier company, raising his saber high in the air and dropping it back down. Before the Imperial formation had fully turned the corner the grenadier company erupted in smoke, and twenty men dropped at once.
“Let’s get them men! Trust in your armor and your skills!”
His grenadiers cheered and the Baron led the charge, screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran in front of his men. The Imperials broke before the Baron’s grenadiers even reached them, unable to stand strong against one hundred massive, hulking men, especially after one fifth of their comrades had dropped in less than a second.
The grenadiers continued forward, wheeling around the corner, each row staying in a perfect line all the while. They were greeted by two companies of Imperial line infantry, who erupted in smoke a few seconds after they finished wheeling.
Bullets pinged off of enchanted grenadier plates, but a handful of men still fell as bullets impacted unarmored spots on their bodies. The grenadiers were not phased, and the Baron ordered them forward. They roared and charged at the Imperials, bayonets chambered for thrusts as they ran.
The Imperials formed a line of steel, ready to meet the enemy at bayonet’s point. The Baron rushed ahead and his eyes began to glow green. He dropped into a deep stance and wound up a massive punch, thrusting his first forward hard enough for the snap of his clothing to be audible.
A massive stone erupted out of the ground, crashing into the Imperial line, killing a good five men and knocking over everyone around them. The Baron fell back into formation and his men pushed harder, slamming into the scattered Imperial line before they had time to reform.
The Imperials broke as soon as the grenadiers impacted them, killing a good twenty men on the charge alone. The Baron raised his saber high in the air and barked his orders.
“Do not pursue-Reload men! Walk and load! Walk and load!”
His men shouted to acknowledge his orders and did as he said, staying perfectly in formation as they began their twelve step reloading process, not needing to even look at their work, keeping their eyes on their enemy the entire time.
The Imperials continued to retreat, running harder as it seemed they were being pursued by these relentless veterans of countless combats. They finished and the first two rows fired, downing a dozen of the retreating men. The back two rows moved to the front and fired as well, never slowing down their formation even as the men shifted around.
|
Udo’s dragoon company ran unmounted through the slums, downing Imperial soldiers left and right. They were a whirlwind of death, easily demolishing any Imperial regulars they came across. His men were armed with sabers and carbines, and he with his longsword.
He spotted a few Imperial companies setting up in an informal market square and ordered his men over to them. They cheered and ran as hard as they could, each man a gifted one who could easily keep up with Udo as he moved at the speed of a horse.
The Imperials turned and saw their approaching enemy, swiftly forming a line to meet their foes. Their armor was higher quality than Imperial regulars, they had a cuirass, chausses, and vambrace over their purple Puff and Slash. These were Imperial grenadiers, a worthy foe.
Imperial grenadiers thrust their bayonets forward and dragoons parried their strikes, batting them aside with sabers. A dragoon lunged forward and thrust his saber at a grenadier’s face. The man tilted his head to the side, managing to get away with a simple gash across his cheek, and thrust his bayonet at the dragoon, glancing off his chestplate.
Udo bashed straight through a grenadier’s musket, chopping it in half and hitting the man on the top of his helmet, dazing him. Udo grabbed his longsword by the blade and thrust the point into the man’s face, killing him near instantly, holding him up for a few seconds as he went limp.
A dragoon thrust his saber forward and two bayonets caught it and forced the sword to the ground, ripping it out of the dragoon’s hand. A second later the two bayonets pierced his throat from either side before he could even think about getting his sword back.
Udo roared with rage and threw himself forward shoulder first, scattering the knot of men who had just killed one of his. He swung his longsword and massive arcs, forcing the grenadiers to step back. While he was only using a longsword, his size and strength meant that it punched far above its weight class. You could not take a hit from that sword while getting out unscathed, even through armor.
Udo swung his sword high and flicked his wrist as he lunged forward, impaling an Imperial through the eye. He pulled back and parried a thrust, slicing off the man’s fingers as he drew his longsword across the his hand.
A dragoon knocked a bayonet out of Udo’s way and another killed the man who attacked their beloved leader. Another ducked a strike and thrust his saber into the man’s hip, running him through. He pulled his saber out and slashed the man’s throat, cutting off his scream.
After a few minutes of combat, grenadier officers ordered a retreat, and the men slowly began to back up, bayonets still presented forward to the enemy. Udo and his dragoons pursued them, keeping up the pressure for as long as they could.
They pushed hard, and soon they managed to create a large gap in one of the companies, flooding it and scattering the men. The grenadier company broke, even the most disciplined man running as it became clear that their company had crumbled.
The other grenadier companies held strong, though they were bleeding men with every step back. Udo’s dragoons were relentless, and they didn’t even look winded yet despite nearly ten minutes of constant fighting, which heavily demoralized the exhausted defenders.
More and more men died, and soon another grenadier company had been scattered. The orderly retreat had turned into a full scale route, and grenadiers broke formation to turn tail and run, hoping to get to the second wall to regroup and recover.
|
Ludwin stood at the top of the walls, at least what remained of them, watching the battle from a bird’s eye view.
“The 63rd, 64th, and 65th line infantry companies need to reinforce the Baron’s grenadiers. I want the 8th elven regiment and the Tlanzomans supporting Udo’s dragoons, and I want Ottoman engineers on the second layer as quickly as possible.”
A soldier saluted Ludwin and ran off to relay his orders. Ludwin bit his thumbnail as he thought about what to do. After an hour of fighting, the battle was going well, but this would simply be the first stage of this assault. They still had the second set of walls to take, then the city itself, then castle Grössenburg.
Ludwin rubbed his temples as he watched various fires break out, probably the Tlanzomans or Ottomans acting up because they were in a foreign land.
|
Imperials reached the gates of the second walls and had a realization that shook them to their cores. If they wanted to get to safety, they had to go through the gates. However, if their comrades opened the gates, they would be letting the enemy in. So the men stood there, looking up at the gatehouse, watching helplessly as the gate stood completely still.
The Bickenstadt coalition was converging on their location through the various streets, and they were close, less than 150 yards away. Some Imperial regulars threw down their weapons and scattered, while others resolved to keep the race traitors out of the city proper for as long as possible. Even if they lost the slums, those were just the lowest of the low, they could operate just fine without them.
The foot and the top of the walls erupted in smoke as the Imperials fired at the approaching Bickenstadt coalition, dropping dozens of men at once. The coalition continued forward, and the Imperials left standing readied themselves, though they were bleeding men to surrender every second.
The coalition stopped at 75 yards and fired, decimating the remaining men. The coalition continued forward, and as the melee began Ottoman engineers rushed to any open spot near the walls, eyes glowing green and yellow as they began to cut out stone and set it in piles in the square.
The men in the square who didn’t surrender were swiftly slaughtered, and those who did had their hands tied with rope. Imperials fired down at the attackers, and even some of the surrendering men as they felt fury at them giving up without a fight. Many of the Imperials who had lost the will to fight were completely shocked when the race traitors and degenerates actually accepted their surrender, but they felt nothing but pure dread in their hearts as they wondered what would happen to them after the city fell to these vermin.
Ottoman engineers swiftly dug under the walls, and soon massive barrels of gunpowder were being passed down, and a fuze was layed, snaking up the small tunnel and across the square. The coalition forces began to leave the square, not wanting to be caught up in the blast.
Engineers continued to lay the fuses, leading it across the square before lighting it. Men on the walls cleared the areas the engineers dug under, and everyone watched as the fuzes swiftly burned down. Some Imperials tried to throw things to put it out, but they were too high up, they couldn’t hit it accurately.
The sparks began to light up the tunnel before disappearing into it. Everyone, coalition and Imperial alike, held their breath, and after a few more seconds the entire city shook with dozens of massive booms! The sections of the wall lifted high in the air, seeming to pause in mid air before, slowly, coming crashing down. The earth continued to shake as tonnes of stone smashed into the streets below, and it seemed to continue on for an eternity before, slowly, beginning to settle down.
The stones clinked together as they stopped in place, smaller rocks and pebbles rolling down the massive crumbled slope of black stone. The Bickenstadt coalition cheered and surged forward, led by the Klarwasser battalion and elven line infantry.
A man stopped at the foot of the slope and lifted his musket high in the air.
“Come on men! Let us kill the slaver pigs! For liberty!”
Men roared as they rushed forward, and soon the collapsed walls were flooded with bodies, both alive and dead. Klarwasser grenadiers shoved people over walls and smashed Imperials with their gun butts while the elves thrust with bayonets, poking around guards and killing men with their hundreds of years of battle experience.
They flooded the gatehouses, slaughtering the demoralized men inside with ease. Soon the gates began to rise, and the rest of the Bickenstadt coalition began to enter Grössenburg proper. All that was left was to secure the city, then castle Grössenburg. After they killed the Empress, this would all be over. Liberty would have won out against tyranny, and men could finally return to their families, if they weren’t killed in the fighting.
|
The Baron stood at the top of the second layer of walls, waving the flag of Bickenstadt high in the air.
“Forwards men! For liberty! For freedom! For the poor and downtrodden! We will free them all!!”
He drew his saber and raised it high in the air.
“Let us make history on this day! We are the first to ever conquer the city of Grössenburg! You will be remembered for all time!”
His army roared as they flooded into Grössenburg proper, firing at retreating Imperials and reloading even as they walked without slowing down in the slightest. Citizens ran for cover as soldiers marched through their streets. Not a single man even considered breaking off and looting any of the abandoned stores, knowing that they would be killed for doing so, and disciplined enough to focus entirely on the fight before them.
The Imperials formed a rough line at the Ersatzplasse, the massive square in which the protest that started the civil war took place. Aside from the obvious symbolic value, it was long and wide with plenty of cover, perfect for forming a defensive line.
Elves and Bickenstadt grenadiers formed a battalion-wide line and a thousand men aimed their muskets at the same general area. The earth shook and the square filled with smoke and dead men as both sides erupted in a thunderous boom, the sound of over a thousand men firing at once shaking the earth below them and rattling window panes all around the city. Over a hundred Imperials fell at once, littering the ground with the dead and dying.
The Bickenstadters charged alongside their long eared comrades, screaming at the top of their lungs all the while. The Imperial regiments stood strong, and soon the two sides clashed. Elves and grenadiers covered each other flawlessly, fully trusting in the other’s skills after years of campaigning together.
An elf displaced a strike just before it reached a Bickenstadt grenadier, wrenching his musket around the man’s guard and stabbing him through the chest. A Bickenstadt officer slashed the throat of an Imperial, falling on his back as a bayonet impacted his cuirass dead on. An elf grabbed the puffy shoulder of his outfit and pulled the officer back to his feet without even looking, not even sparing a glance for the man he saved as he focused all of his attention on the battle in front of them.
More companies on both sides continued to flood the square, thousands of men packed into a small area fighting as hard as they could to defeat their enemy, one side fighting for the poor and downtrodden, the other for hearth and home, neither side willing to give up ground.
The Brayherds arrived on the left flank, alongside the janissaries, and the two groups began to ply their trade in the square, Brayherds scattered knots of men and janissaries swiftly finished them off, hacking them to pieces before they could get back to their feet.
Elves roared in anger as a handful of their brothers fell and redoubled their efforts. They pushed hard, forcing the Imperial left flank back step by step. The Bickenstadt grenadiers joined them, pushing as hard as they could. Soon Imperials were fighting with their backs to a shop, and men were forced in through the door.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Imperials smashed the windows, allowing the rest of their men to come inside. The men at the back jumped over the counter and began to load, hoping that their comrades could keep the coalition forces back long enough. Unfortunately for them, the Elven-Bickenstadt forces were too much, and soon race traitors and degenerates were vaulting over the counter and sticking them with bayonets.
Individual men left out the back entrance, running as it became clearer and clearer that their companies had lost. After finishing up the rest of the men in the business the elves and grenadiers charged into the backs of the center, swiftly scattering them. The left flank beat a hasty retreat, the bravest men staying behind to cover their escape.
|
After hours of fighting, companies kept marching through the wide streets of Grössenburg, continuing to exchange shots with the retreating Imperials. A Bickenstadt line company turned a corner and found three full companies aiming at them. Before they could retreat the Imperials fired, killing almost half of the formation. Its officer lay dead amongst his men and no one was taking command, so the remaining soldiers broke and ran.
Another line infantry company marched in unison through the streets, passing by alleyways without a second thought. Suddenly, men in plate armor under tabards dyed the dark purple of the Grand Imperial Army, each one lifting greatswords high above their heads, erupted from the alleys, hitting the company’s formation at three separate points. The formation swiftly scattered, and greatswordsmen slaughtered the disorganized group of men, pursuing them through the streets.
They turned a corner and literally bumped into two more companies of line infantry. The two sides stared at each other for a second before swords flashed, and Bickenstadters began to drop. A greatswordsman held his greatsword by the middle, blocking a thrust, wrenching his blade up and over and returning one of his own along the man’s musket, getting him straight in the eye.
Bickenstadters desperately thrust bayonets at the greatswordsmen, glancing off of armor harmlessly. They quickly scattered, running through the ranks of the grenadiers who opened ranks to let them through. The greatswordsmen charged the grenadiers, who closed ranks and met them at bayonet’s point.
From the alleyways surrounding the Grenadiers, Bszerci began to flood out, sticking sabers in gaps in armor and wrestling greatswordsmen to the ground. The whole company was swiftly surrounded and destroyed, and the grenadiers thanked their Bszerci allies before continuing alongside them.
|
Udo marched with his company through an alleyway. They came out the other side into a large square and Udo looked around, smiling ear to ear. He walked forward, spun around, and opened his arms wide.
“Guys, this here square is where I lost my virginity.”
He made a semi-circle with both of his hands.
“Her ass was unfathomable.”
His men laughed, and a second later they heard a series of deafening booms above them. Udo watched what looked like a shower of black and gray particles descend on his men, and a second later nearly all of them dropped like rocks.
They had been hit with multiple airburst rounds, and Udo was the only one lucky enough to come out unscathed, as he ran forward to show off his first conquest of a woman. He rushed over to them, finding that a good half of the sixty men were too injured to walk. The rest were dead and dying, with just a handful still able to stand.
“Wha-”
He heard the sounds of marching and counted his lucky stars that friendlies had arrived. He looked down the alley they had come from and saw a sea of purple uniforms, four full companies of Grand Imperial Army Regulars. He cursed loudly and froze as he thought about what to do. He lifted his longsword and rushed to the entrance, holding the blade in the middle with a half-sword grip.
“Jenkens, Jerek, Baumhaus, Erikson, get as many of the living as you can to safety. I’ll keep ‘em away in this alley.”
One of them opened their mouths to argue and Udo cut him off.
“That’s an order soldier! Dietrich! Go find friendlies and bring ‘em ‘ere!”
He turned back to the approaching Imperials and fell into a fighting stance, determination overflowing in his eyes.
“Come and fucking get me you purple fucks!”
|
Warships in the harbor hastily fired broadsides at approaching Waffenstadt vessels, cannonballs smashing into their hulls, but not piercing. A single cannonball skipped across the deck, taking off the head of a Brayherd and knocking another into the drink below. The ships drew closer and men ducked for cover as cannonballs crashed into their deck, scattering tools and smashing crates full of weapons and powder.
Soon, the Waffenstadt vessels threw hooks over the side of their merchant vessels and began to heave and ho as they pulled the opposing warship over to them. The Bickenstadt marines stood in a line on the deck, lighting their fuses in unison.
They threw their grenades onto the deck of the ship, not a single one bouncing off the hull or falling short of their target. As soon as they heard the blast the marines immediately began to board, leaping across the gap and lithely climbing up the side in just a few seconds.
They leaped over the railing, long daggers held in a reverse grip and pistols drawn from holsters. Bickenstadt marines aimed their pistols and fired, each one killing a single Imperial. They rushed forward and thrust their knives down onto the stunned and dying men close to them.
Imperials swung their katzbalgers down and the Bickenstadt marines caught the strikes with their spent pistols, which they had flipped around to use as clubs. A Bickenstadter battered a katzbalger aside and leaped forward, tackling the man and sticking his long, thin dagger up into the man’s jaw.
Another man stepped into an Imperial’s guard, wrapping his arm around the Imperial’s before slashing his throat, continuing to stab the man as he was lowered to the ground until he stopped moving. He saw an Imperial lift their katzbalger and the marine charged forward, tackling the man to the ground, katzbalger opening a nasty gash in his back, but not killing him.
The marine pulled himself up and straddled the man’s chest, thrusting his dagger down with both hands. The Imperial grabbed his wrist, but not before a good fourth of the dagger had already entered his chest. The marine pushed harder, using his entire bodyweight to overpower his foe. The dagger steadily pierced further in, and the man soon let loose a final death groan before he stopped struggling as the blade pierced his heart.
|
The Waffenstadt-Brayherd force had arrived in Grössenburg harbor, and the Bickenstadt marines were swiftly clearing the way.
All throughout the city the Bickenstadt coalition slowly continued forward, slowed down only by the strength and tenacity of the Imperial defenders. An elf kicked an Imperial to the ground before finishing him with his bayonet, immediately turning his attention to the next enemy as soon as his bayonet exited the man, confident that he was in no shape to retaliate.
The men from the docks had finally encountered their comrades, and they greeted each other before continuing on. Brayherds and Waffenstadters talked jovially to each other, both of them just barely able to make out what the other was saying, which they felt made the jokes much, much funnier. A similar situation occurred between the Janissaries, the Bickenstadters, and the elves, who had all grown to enjoy their new brother’s presences over years of campaigning together.
The coalition forces were now face to face with their final objective: Castle Grössenburg. Imperials fired from on top of the walls, sending massive jets of smoke up to dissipate in the air. An Imperial observed a plume of smoking flowing next to him, but paid it no mind. At least until he noticed the brightly painted jaguar warriors materializing next to them.
Before he could make a sound his head was lopped off by the obsidian blades of the Tlanzoman warriors. Disguised by the acrid gun smoke blanketing the city, the Tlanzomans floated to the top of the walls, materializing out of the thick clouds engulfing Castle Grössenburg.
They sliced clean through the Imperial defenders with their enchanted macuahuitls, making short work of the surprised men. Tlanzoman jaguars swiftly worked to open the gates, letting in their more mundane conscripted forces. Behind them was a flood of Bszerci, exhausted and injured, but strongly determined.
Tlanzomans charged at the men defending the courtyard, the first row of conscripts getting cut down by the hail of bullets sent in their direction. The rest continued forward, a little daunted by the gunfire but forced forward by their officers and the weight of the men behind them, and began to engage with this strange, foreign foe.
Unenchanted obsidian blades left flakes sharper than any razer in massive wounds, and stone clubs covered the ground, as well as their users, in brains and blood. Tlanzomans roared, and the jaguars drew a secret weapon they had yet to use. Tlanzoman officers ordered their men to put special plugs in their ears, and the men desperately tried to do so before it was too late.
Jaguar warriors took in deep breaths and blew into skull shaped whistles, playing a horrific sound similar to that of a hoarse woman screaming at the top of her lungs. Their death whistles shimmered with enchantments, and the air around each man seemed to vibrate intensely. The entire city was filled with a singular, blood curdling scream, and everyone around that could hear was rooted in place with fear.
The whistles crumbled to ash in their hands, the heavy enchantments destroying the bone they were carved from. Jaguars wasted no time and rushed inside the castle, cutting down shaking men rooted in place with fright. The conscripts were close behind them, taking out their earplugs and finishing off anyone the jaguars did not.
The Bszeric behind them slowly shook themselves out of their stupor and began to walk towards the castle, slowly picking up speed as the fear drained from their bodies. They were inspired by the sights they saw in the courtyard, nothing but discarded obsidian weapons and dead Imperials.
“We can’t let those foreigners outdo us! Let’s kill these Imperial dogs!”
Bszerci roared in approval, finding hidden reserves of stamina to tap into as they rushed into Castle Grössenburg. The Baron was not far behind them, outrunning his grenadiers and pushing his way through their crowd. He shouted in Bszerci at the top of his lungs.
“Bszerci! Out of my way! I have an Empress to kill!”
The crowd began to part and he blurred past, entering the castle with speed that surprised everyone around, even his grenadiers. They had never seen a man, let alone a man in his late fifties, move so quickly. He rushed past his Tlanzoman allies, finishing their fights as he moved. He ducked under a strike not intended for him and slashed the man’s arm off at the shoulder as he passed, the jaguar splitting his head in half a second later.
He danced through the halls of Castle Grössenburg, a veritable whirlwind of death as he strained every sense and every muscle to its absolute limit. He crashed into a knot of four men, cutting off two of their heads in a single stroke. He used the momentum to spin around and crack an Imperial’s jaw with his heel, coming back up and slashing the throat of the man next to him before lifting the man’s arm and thrusting his saber in his armpit, all before they could even think about defending themselves.
He rushed up a set of stairs, followed by lithe jaguar warriors. They flooded the upper hallway, encountering heavy resistance. They came face to face with Imperial knights, each one wearing an impregnable set of enchanted plate and chainmail.
The Baron’s eyes glowed yellow and he seemed to dance for a few seconds. The knights rushed forward, but as soon as the Baron stomped hard on the ground the world seemed to slow for a moment, and suddenly they were being pushed to the ground by some unseen force, the air shimmering around each of them.
“I’ll leave the rest to you jaguars. Take off their helmets and coifs if you can, it’s the only way for you to kill them.”
He ran past the knights, keeping up his spell as he bounded up the stairs they were protecting.
“I have an empress to kill!”
After making it halfway up the staircase he released his spell. He was beginning to feel the effects of using so much magic at once, as well as taxing his ability to its limit. His head pounded, he felt sharp pins in his fingers, but he ignored it, barely able to feel it through all the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He crashed through the door at the top and nearly fell back as he was splashed in the face with some sort of substance. He wiped it out of his eyes and ducked as a sword screamed towards him, taking a clean slice out of the stone behind him, which froze then began to melt.
Suddenly, his head began to feel woozy, and his vision blurred. He bit his lip as he felt his consciousness fading, drawing blood and staying awake through sheer force of will. He rolled forward and slammed into a table, looking briefly in the mirror, seeing his face splattered with some light purple substance. A feminine voice came from behind as he desperately tried to clean the stuff off his face.
“How are you even awake?”
She sounded genuinely surprised. He turned and blinked blearily at the blurry figure. The Empress was standing in front of him, sword held down by her hip, a small glass beaker in her other hand.
“That stuff is meant to make a demigryph docile. Perhaps I messed up the dosage?”
The Baron spit out some of the substance that made it in his mouth and smiled.
“A demigryph? Yeah, you fucked that up hard.”
He coughed hard and wiped his mouth.
“This wouldn’t even put a dog on its ass.”
The Empress laughed, and the Baron could feel the influence of something bouncing off of him. It felt like a sort of aura wrapping around him, though not able to make contact.
“Well, I know what will.”
She raised her sword in front of her face, giving the Baron a sword salute. Her sword was of an older style, known as a Paramerion, sort of a proto-saber. It buzzed with enchantments, producing a sound of similar intensity to industrial lighting, though far more dull in pitch and timbre.
“Steelslayer.”
The Baron smiled. His eyes were blurry, and it felt like he had to fill out a form and mail it to the next county over before his body was even allowed to think about moving.
“I’ve…always wanted to…spar with that thing.”
The Empress cackled, and he could feel her aura intensifying around him.
“You are hardly in the shape to dance, let alone fight.”
The Baron raised his saber in front of him, placing his off hand at his hip and falling into a deep stance. He called upon every reserve of strength he had in his body and silently prayed it would be enough.
“Try me.”
Empress continued to smile as she inched closer, Steelslayer held horizontally at head level, point facing the Baron. She stepped forward and tapped her sword against the Baron's saber. Almost immediately it began to form ice, then a second later it erupted into steam.
She thrust forward with lightning speed and the Baron ducked and lunged, slashing at her legs. His attack bounced off of her chausses and she swung down at him. He pulled back, the sword kissing his eyepatch and ripping it off his face.
The eyepatch began to freeze, then burst into flames as it hit the ground, then began to dissolve and glow blue before turning into ash. The Baron kept his unenchanted eye closed, as the difference in depth perception would throw him off, and the enchanted eye could process information faster.
She slashed at his head and he raised his saber to block. As soon as their swords touched he felt an invisible force push hard against his blade, and he was barely able to pull back from her strike, let alone keep a handle on his sword.
She rushed forward and slashed his chest, leaving a trail of heat and cold along the trajectory of her strike. A second later the chestplate began to sizzle, and a deep gouge slowly formed. The Empress laughed.
“You had better be careful, enchanted armor will only get you so far against this thing.”
The Baron rubbed his eye, slowly blinking at her before smiling brightly and chuckling. He felt exhausted, but he found this puzzle of a fight to be extremely stimulating. Far more than the meaningless, one sided slaughter he usually took part in.
“Good to know.”
He stepped forward and flicked his wrist, his saber bouncing off hers. He wrenched it around and flicked his elbow outwards, poking his saber over her guard. She stepped back, barely avoiding the tip by a hair’s breadth as she tilted her head, sending a few strands of hair flittering to the ground.
He lunged and found her proto-saber flying at his face. He pulled back and felt the kiss the tip of his nose. A searing sensation began as it froze then heated up, then a burning as it began to bubble and hiss. It felt like he had had a dot of an extremely aggressive acid on his nose, a surprisingly painful experience, though still not as bad as deatomization.
“Fuck that bites.”
The Empress cackled raucously.
“Yes it does.”
She slashed at his head and he brought up his saber, deflecting the strike, which almost knocked him over with the sheer force involved. He inspected his blade and found that the edge had chipped. She slashed again and he attempted to parry, finding that chip began to crack deeper into his blade as he pulled back. Suddenly, he had an idea.
He rushed forward and swung down hard, keeping his body straight, shoulders held back. She smiled and raised her blade, facing the edge towards him.
“You fool!”
His saber hit hers, then kept going down. He could feel the steel being sliced with ease, and soon the vast majority of the blade clanged off of her enchanted shoulder and clattered to the ground. The Empress began to cackle when the Baron lunged forward as far as he could mid cut. Her laugh was cut off as the remaining blade, just about four inches of enchanted steel, pierced her throat down to the hilt.
The Baron stumbled and crashed into her, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He lay on top of her, exhausted, and the two made eye contact. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of fury and shock, and he felt her hand gripping the dagger at his side.
She drew it and thrust up into his armpit before he could stop her, and it pierced through with ease. He groaned breathily as she weakly twisted the dagger, and he finally reeled back and elbowed her in the face, making her lose her grip on the knife.
He shot up and stumbled back into her dresser, breaking the handles and knocking it over completely. He breathed deeply and focused all of his attention on his wound. The long, thin dagger was stuck in deep, but it missed the artery. If he pulled it out, however, he would swiftly bleed to death.
“You bitch! T-t-that was a lucky shot you little fucker.”
He growled at the Empress, who was laughing as best she could with her throat cut open. He stumbled over to her, the light beginning to fade from her eyes.
“I’m gonna cut…wait, I know what will be a worse revelation.”
He gave her a toothy grin, looking as smug as possible.
“Your brother is alive and well in the Bickenstadt pirate village. He helped plan everything from the start.”
Her eyes widened, and she began to stir, leaning forward and breaking the top of a chest nearby. The Baron just watched, fully amazed that she was still able to move as he life energy splattered against the ground. Her chest was covered in blood, and a massive pool was forming beneath her. She withdrew something and pointed it at the Baron. It was a long tube covered in runes. It hummed nearly as loud as Steelslayer did.
A gun?
The Baron moved to stop her, but he felt his heart skip a beat the second he took a step. He couldn’t cross the distance fast enough. The tube flashed an intense light blue light, which momentarily blinded the Baron. He cursed and rubbed his eye, opening the other to continue looking at the dying Empress.
Water magic of some kind?
She looked smugly satisfied, and after a few seconds of what looked like either a silent laugh or the throes of death, she slowly slumped over as somehow even more blood poured onto the ground. He watched her chest stop moving as she finally expired, living far longer than anyone with that kind of wound should through sheer willpower.
“Wait…that flash looked different? It was…lighter than it should be?”
He looked at the dagger stuck in his side and winced as he felt the sharp pain spider webbing through his body.
He stumbled over to her, grabbing Steelslayer as he traipsed over the destroyed room. He grabbed her hair and put the blade to her neck. It sizzled as it froze then began to heat up at the same time, and he severed her head with no effort at all, the blade simply gliding through. The neck area began to freeze then heat up, then bubble before freezing again.
The Baron let go of the sword and it stuck into the floor, slowly sliding down through the stone until it was embedded down to the hit. He shambled over to the balcony and kicked open the door. He leaned against the railing and raised her head high in the air.
“The Empress is dead!”
The fighting outside all but stopped as men, coalition and Imperial alike, stared up at the Baron. He shouted again.
“The Empress is dead, and I, Baron Johan Bleichröder von Bickenstadt, have slain her! By right of conquest I order all men of the Grand Imperial Army to stand down! And those of the Bickenstadt Coalition to begin treating the wounded!”
After a few seconds some of the Imperials began to throw down their arms, while others continued to fight. Those that fought were heavily outnumbered, and many gave up when their comrades began to plead with them to surrender.
The Baron collapsed, falling on his back and staring at the threshold between the balcony and room. His eyelids grew heavier, and soon he couldn’t stop them from closing.
It’s fine if I take a break, I think I’ve earned it.