Edwin’s glaive swept out, biting deeply into the Marradi’s shield from the side. The soldier stumbled into his neighbor, and before he could regain his footing Edwin followed and landed a savage kick against his shield, pushing him over completely. A sharp pain flashed through Edwin’s side as a soldier to his right finally found a weakness in his armor, stabbing his spear into the gap below his armpit.
He reflexively let go of his glaive with his right hand, snatching the enemy’s weapon before the soldier could retract it. Edwin pulled hard, but his adversary set his feet and put his bodyweight behind it. Edwin could’ve overpowered him, but he surprised the man by letting go instead, causing the spear’s owner to stagger back into the man standing behind him, his feet slipping on the uneven ground. The fall opened him up to attack, and Edwin slammed his glaive’s spike directly between the man’s shocked eyes.
Seeing a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye Edwin ducked his head, raising his arm to block the stab at his unprotected face. It never landed though, and when Edwin turned to his assailant, the soldier was slumping over with a crossbow bolt sprouting from his mouth.
“Edwin, get back!” Bordan shouted behind him, and Edwin obeyed. As the enemies ahead of him reformed their line, dragging the wounded behind their shields, Edwin took a moment to look left and right. He immediately understood why Bordan had called him: His position was the only one he could see that hadn’t been naturally pushed back. The Marradi were advancing to either side of him, and if he’d stayed much longer they might have encircled him fully. Only now did Edwin remember that their plan had been to fight a retreating battle all along. Just like their regular light infantry, the adventurers weren’t equipped to hold a position against a Marradi shield wall. If the enemy wanted to push forward, there wasn’t all that much the lightly armored warriors could do against that.
But then, they didn’t need to. There was plenty of empty forest behind them, so if they fell back at the same slow speed that the enemy advanced, they would have a good ten or fifteen minutes before having to worry about the Marradi being able to flank their main forces. They would use every one of those minutes to bleed the bastards with short, intense attacks and the constant, accurate fire of their marksmen.
Edwin turned, jogging back to his teammates and retaking his position in the loose line. While the dent in the Marradi shield wall in front of him smoothed itself out, the soldiers marching forward to straighten the line, the haze of combat lifted slightly, widening his vision. Where before he had only been able to see what was right in front of him, now he could hear the sounds of the battle: Blades striking wood, bowstrings snapping, the screams of the wounded and dying. Then the enemies were there again, and he plunged back in.
As his overhead strike had worked so nicely the last time around, Edwin decided to open with it again. Gripping his weapon like a woodcutter’s axe, he reared it back over his head. He could see the eyes of the soldier in front of him widen, then narrow with resolve. Edwin swung, but instead of standing there and getting cut, his target took two quick steps toward him. The glaive’s shaft impacted the top of the man’s shield with a loud bang, denting it. This didn’t stop the heavy weapon, but it slowed it down enough that instead of slicing the man in half, the tip of the blade cut a furrow into his helmet from just above the temple all the way below the cheek, then impacted his shoulder, the remaining force being stopped by the steel pauldron.
His attack foiled, Edwin yanked back his glaive and retook his stance. These were no stupid monsters; they were just as intelligent as he was. They wouldn’t just stand back and let him kill them. The three soldiers who had been beside Edwin’s target quickly stepped up beside the man, covering him as he recovered from the strike. Having seen what he could do, they were completely fixated on Edwin now, and he knew that they wouldn’t make it easy for him.
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“Go for his face!” one of his enemies shouted, raising his spear. “You good, Jeld?”
“I’m good,” the one who’d blocked Edwin’s strike grunted, staggering back into formation. “Let’s get this bastard!”
Edwin chuckled. “Unlikely. Feel free to try though, if you come to me that just means I don’t need to chase you down.”
“We’ll see if you still laugh when you’re bleeding out on the ground!” a third soldier said. He looked like little more than a boy, barely old enough to shave, but his eyes were blazing with anger.
“You mean like your friend back there?” Edwin taunted. “I’m sure he’s fine, who needs two arms and legs anyway?”
“Ullor don’t!” the first soldier shouted, but it was too late. His enraged comrade bellowed a wordless cry and rushed straight at Edwin, spear flashing toward the adventurer’s unprotected head. Edwin exploded toward his attacker, slapping the onrushing spear to the side with his armored glove, then rammed his fist into the soldier’s face. The man’s feet kept going forward while his head and shoulders snapped back and he crashed to the ground. His comrades were desperately rushing after him, but they were a heartbeat too slow to get in range. Edwin slammed his glaive’s spike down, ending the man’s life.
“You monster!” one of the others hissed, but the three stopped their attack and retreated back into their formation.
“Monster?” Edwin asked, tilting his head. Then he laughed. “I guess I am. But let me ask you: If you enter a monster’s den of your own free will and get eaten, who’s at fault? Is it the monster, following its nature and defending its territory, or is it the poor fool who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong when he should’ve known better?”
Their conversation was interrupted by a shout rising from the enemy line, and the ones in front of Edwin took it up.
“Faaall back! Iiin step!”
As one, the line began to reverse its direction, retreating the way they’d come while still facing the adventurers. Edwin watched, his eyes narrowing at the defiant stares of his three foes.
“No!” he growled, starting after them, raising his voice to a shout. “You don’t get to walk away! One of you joins your friend on the ground!”
He raised his glaive for another savage overhead strike, the expressions of the Marradi turning to shock, then fear. The first one tried to intercept the strike the way he had the first time, but Edwin had only pretended to go for him. The glaive whistled by the man at an angle, missing the shield raised to stop the shaft by a decent margin, then burrowed itself in the neck of the man standing to his right. The soldier’s chest plate and shield stopped the glaive’s blade, but only after it had cleaved his torso halfway to his hips. The man dropped, his spine severed, eyes rolling into the back of his head. The first soldier’s face was deformed into a mask of rage, but he didn’t let himself be baited and returned to his position in the line.
“Don’t go hunting monsters if you’re not prepared to die!” Edwin shouted after them, then turned around. Bordan was shouting his name for the third or fourth time, calling him to stop pursuing.
“What’s going on?” Edwin asked as he rejoined his group. “Why are they falling back?”
“There weren’t as many of them as we expected,” Bordan said. “We thought that if they came here, they’d do it in force to try and push through and flank the main defensive line. They didn’t, so we had people to spare. Gerrack sent two of his banners around to strike them in the back, that’s what made them retreat.”
“Huh.” Edwin said, scratching his chin. “If their troops aren’t here, and they aren’t at the center, where are they?”
Bordan’s eyes widened as he reached the conclusion at the same time, the two looking at each other in shock.
“How many troops are on the right flank again?” Edwin asked, a pit in his stomach.
“Not enough,” Bordan said, shaking his head. “Two light cohorts, I think.”
“We thought they wouldn’t want to move that close to the mountain…”
“…but that was because Giant’s Head could’ve dropped rocks on their heads. Now that they’re out of the battle…”
“Damn it!” Edwin cursed, craning his neck to try and see the rest of the battlefield through the trees, but their current position was too deep in the forest to make out anything. “Did they plan this from the start?”
“Maybe. Maybe they’ve just got a quick-thinking tactician on their side. Either way—”
A clarion call rang across the battlefield, calling the Harvand forces to retreat.