A Marradi soldier tried to crawl out from the tangle of bodies left behind in Edwin’s wake, and Edwin punched him in the face. The man dropped onto his stomach as the bone-plated gauntlet kissed his forehead with little more tenderness than a mace. Kicking out, Edwin finally managed to get his feet under him and stood. Immediately, pain raced through his leg. One of the downed Marradi had shoved a knife into a gap on the back of his greaves, trying but failing to twist it to maximize damage. Edwin reflexively pulled his damaged leg back, then stomped on the Marradi’s head with his other foot. He leaned down to pull out the knife, then picked up his glaive. Turning around, he looked over the heads of the Marradi shield wall, taking in the battlefield in a single moment.
2-2’s soldiers had stepped up next to him, covering him against the enemies that were still standing and increasing the pressure on the suddenly beleaguered Marradi line. The adventurers had done a lot of damage in a short time, but after the initial shock had passed, the back of the enemy formation had turned around and was even now struggling to close the gaps between their shields. The enemy archers were in full flight, running across the field like hares. Each second, one or two of them would drop, sniped by the adventurers’ marksmen. Third and fourth banners’ fighters were chasing them off to prevent them from turning around and peppering them with arrows, but they would soon have to turn around, lest they go too far and get surrounded.
If they didn’t hurry, they could still fail. The encirclement needed to be broken before the enemy could send reinforcements, or all they would achieve was to get themselves killed alongside second battalion. The Marradi he’d knocked over were getting up, extricating their tangled limbs and picking up their weapons. With friends and foes all around him, Edwin didn’t have the space to swing his weapon. Instead, he stabbed at the nearest men with its spike, wielding it as if he was spearfishing. The magestone roots that formed the glaive thinned to a single point at it base which was just as sharp as the blade was. With the weapon’s considerable weight and Edwin’s inhuman strength behind it, the spike easily punched through metal armor, although the thick wooden shields proved to be an effective defense.
Within ten seconds, Edwin stood over a pile of corpses. The enemy had been unable to close the gap he had torn into their formation in time, cutting their unit in half. Now that he had a little more room to maneuver, Edwin looked at the nearest Marradi soldier who was stabbing out at the infantryman the Edwin’s left, narrowed eyes peering over his shield. Raising his glaive, Edwin prepared an overhead chop. His weapon fell, and the enemy’s shield was split in two along with the soldier’s head. The man to Edwin’s left seized the opportunity, ramming his spear into the dead man’s neighbor.
Edwin raised his weapon again, targeting the next in line. He met the young man’s panicked eyes as he brought it down, but the angle of his strike had been bad, only cracking the shield without striking through to his target’s arm. The boy began to scream and charged Edwin, wildly stabbing at the large adventurer. With his glaive still stuck in the shield, Edwin took a step forward and slammed his foot against the wooden obstruction, stopping the boy’s charge and sending him back the way he’d come.
He saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively ducked his head. Red-hot pain blazed across his scalp as a spear scraped across the top of his head, barely missing his temple that it had been aimed at. Growling, Edwin swung his glaive sideways at the perpetrator without bothering with a windup, more out of reflex than with any kind of plan. His surprised expression mirrored the Marradi’s as the heavy blade zipped over the edge of the shield, lowered while striking out at Edwin, and cleanly severed the enemy’s head just below his helmet. It rolled off the man’s shoulders, the corpse collapsing into a boneless heap a moment later.
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A bright light flashed into existence behind the Marradi formation, followed immediately by the dull roar of magical fire and the screams of burning soldiers. Against their training and better knowledge, some of the soldiers facing Edwin couldn’t help but turn their heads, to see what dark fate had befallen their brothers. Without a second thought Edwin flashed forward, slamming a fist against the head of one and staggering the one beside him with a kick. With his other hand, he stabbed his glaive at a soldier in the second row, forcing the man to raise his shield to cover his face. Taking another step, Edwin took a page out of the book of his very first enemy. He made use of the man’s reflex to protect his head and leave his legs open and swung his back leg around in a savage kick. It smashed into the side of the soldier’s leg, his greaves protected his bone from shattering, but his knee bent explosively and sent him sprawling to the ground.
The next few seconds were a whirlwind of violence, Edwin wielding hands, feet, elbows, and his glaive in all directions. Against the tightly packed soldiers, Edwin’s armored body was just as deadly a weapon as any sword. He had little training in unarmed combat, but his punches had enough force behind them to dent a metal plate, which was just as good.
The enemy in front of him had his back turned, and Edwin rammed his glaive under the man’s helmet, severing his spine. The man sank to the floor without a sound, and for the second time that day, Edwin came face to face with an ally.
“Hey,” Edwin said, kicking the dead soldier’s neighbor in the back of his legs, sending him to his knees.
“Hey yourself,” Borm grunted, stabbing the tip of his two-handed sword past the downed soldier’s shield.
Edwin had to step back to block a spear whizzing toward him, then instinctively raised his armored forearm, blocking a sword aimed at his head. Turning toward the new threat, Edwin faced two Marradi soldiers who had discarded their spears, choosing to rely on their backup weapons in the tight press of bodies. Edwin swung his glaive at them, which the right of the two blocked with his shield, grunting at the surprising amount of force as the blade bit a hand’s width deep into the wood. His comrade decided to capitalize on Edwin’s weapon being stuck and charged him, rearing back to strike at Edwin’s face again only to stumble when a spear slipped into his ribs from the side.
The first one took a step toward his hurt companion, but Edwin’s glaive was still stuck in his shield. Instead of pulling it out, Edwin pushed, causing the soldier to stumble into his comrade. He fell, and once he was on the ground he had only seconds to live. Edwin stepped over the two bodies, facing the ones behind them.
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Five long and bloody minutes later, a call to retreat went up from the Harvand soldiers, and Edwin looked around the bloody field. While their allied infantry had held against the enemies that had been cut off from the rest of their unit, the adventurers had completely surrounded the enemy flanking force and wiped them out. The two banners that had chased away the enemy archers were running toward them, enemy soldiers hot on their heels while scattered arrows rained down around them. The marksmen had fired one last arrow and were now hurrying toward them.
Looking the other way, Edwin could see that they had fallen behind the center, but not too far. Apparently, first battalion’s leadership had seen their plight, opting to close ranks with them while the far flank bowed inward. From above, what had previously been a straight line now looked like a misshapen C. Even so, there was only so far they could bend before the enemy surrounded them, so it was high time that they got out of there. As Leodin came running up, Edwin handed off his glaive, then threw a wounded allied soldier over each of his shoulders and started jogging.