Turning to him, and nearly causing Zan to lose his blade before he ungracefully pulled it from the husk, the golem before him was neither the blase type of golem common to the invasion — wood and nothing more than foul play — yet nor was it the red-painted golem with authority and metallic reinforcement. This golem had a gold-color painted over its upper-half. Then, whomp! The golem brutally punched him to the ground as he took-in its ill-formed radiance.
Shakily rising, the golem surprised him again and punched him back to the ground. Although his special armored clothing took the blow's brunt, he felt sore right away, and his muscles hurt. He worried he would bruise like rotted fruit. At least I won’t have any broken bones, he consoled himself.
Rolling away from the golem while on the ground, he refused to make the same mistake twice. He lifted himself to his feet and faced the automotron once again, but with his buckler-shield to his forefront. Lifeless and idiotic as ever, the golem again pummeled him but this time the shield absorbed the worst of the blows. Though he felt every impact and blow, he stood his ground.
Unfortunately, the automotron never slowed or relented. Not until Jiehong slammed into the golem’s side and pummeled it to doom with his fists, his knuckle-duster shattering its way into the golem’s cavity. Then, and only then, did he receive a reprieve. Hacking at the golem’s corpse for good measure, he panted as he wasted no time in attaching a grenade to the catapult, though he did not yet pull the pin.
“Thanks, buddy…” he said between panting.
Jiehong, still sour about being ordered to use his sword, despite the fact he clearly refused to use his sword, only spoke under his breath. He ignored his defiance and needless melodrama. Attaching grenades to the other two nearby catapults, he had to rest his tired lungs for a minute — literally — just to have a chance in the continued engagement; he saw over yonder, near the other siege engines, more golem swarms. And with more swarms would be another gold-golem, no doubt.
Looking at the dead gold golem on the ground, he visually picked apart its deactivated body. Strange metal coils wrap around its arms. Thanks to Jiehong’s fists, the golem’s chest no longer existed; in its place, only a gaping hole remained. Through the hole, he glimpsed an unusual sight: mechanisms. A tiny machine existed in its chest. Zan knew little about machines, but he suspected, from only the appearance of the golem, how this internal mechanism was the means by which the automotron could pack such a punch.
What the feck is this crap?! He asked. How many golem-types are there going to be before this war’s done? He had a feeling a lot…
Having caught his breath for the literal minute, he rejoined his brother on the battlefield. Jiehong relentless advance, although inspiring, displayed recklessness. It was only them out here; if Jiehong became overwhelmed by the enemy, and he wasn’t nearby, then dark futures would enforce themselves on Jiehong out of necessity.
Said again, his brother was being pigheaded. And why? Because he, the leader, was giving orders? It’s ridiculous, he told himself as he caught up to Jiehong.
“What was that shet?” He said, bashing his way into a smaller golem before running several more through with his sword.
“Cursing, are we? I thought you didn’t like—” Jiehong said before saving his breath for the enemy. He captured an enemy by the leg and hurled a basic golem into one of the red-painted golems.
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“Are you going to be like this forever?” he said, as he finished off the golems, he speared with his sword by slashing straight through their shoulders. Or shoulder areas; as golems, they did not have any actual bones, let alone anatomy. Seeing the effortless work the sword made of the automotrons forced a smile from him. He felt invincible.
Until he encountered another gold-golem, he felt invincible. “I think you can take this one,” Jiehong said as he rushed to the next set of siege equipment.
Grunting all the while he engaged the golem, he felt unimpressed with his blood. What happened to teamwork?!
The chaos of battle gave the gold golem the advantage as he had to first take evasive action to avoid the golem’s power-punches. And with so many lesser golems surrounding the gold-golem’s party, he only thought it prudent to eliminate the lesser threats first, so he was not constantly side-dashing his way out of trouble. Which, of course, he had to do plenty of regardless of the number of golems, as the total number increased while the gold-golem screeched an awful noise which attracted allies. With fleet-footedness, he ran about, hacking a limb here or a chest there with his sword.
Ending many of the golems, thus providing for himself the space needed to fight the gold golem, he stepped to the gold automotron with his blade at the ready.
Sweat dripped from his brow. He waited for the golem to come to him. He did this to regain his energy and catch his breath; although stragglers remained, and he wanted to help Jiehong, especially his sides and back, while he advanced on the next group of siege engines, he had to admit he could not do everything by himself. If Jiehong found himself in trouble, then what else could he do but fight his way out of it? Was it his fault if his brother refused the smart strategy for his own ego?
Not realizing how quick the gold-golems were compared to the other two types, he found his thoughts interrupted by the smashing fists of his gold-plated foe. Luckily, he brought his shield up in time and deflected the blows. He felt every blow in his bones, despite the shield, which impelled him to break away from the relentless battering in a bold evasive move; pushing his weight to his shield, Zan ducked underneath the pitter-pattering blows of the invader and quickly waddled around the golem’s position as it continued to smash away at the air, its primitive consciousness failing to realize right away his foe had moved. Realizing the automotron was slow to stop and would soon have to walk either forward or backward to re-position itself, he forced his blade through its legs, causing the wooden demon to fall onto its back.
Seeing its fists continue to wail pointlessly, he had the impulse to walk away and let it rot. But figuring it could still be a danger to others — random hunters, animals, whatever — he smashed its head with his blade. Good thing this blade is sharper than sharp, he commented while bashing the golem unceremoniously with his weapon.
With no more movement coming from the gold golem, he took only a moment’s reprieve before sliding himself back into the fray.
Jiehong nearly had destroyed all the automotrons by the time he caught up. But two — TWO — gold golems gave him trouble. Zan considered throwing a grenade, telling Jiehong to run, but decided against it. Considering Jiehong’s attitude, he probably would intentionally stay just to prove some point.
Normally, he would take his position alongside his brother, but considering their enemies, he thought better than a frontal assault. Running behind the two gold golems, he wasted no time in severing their limbs; without legs, both went tumbling to the ground: one on its back, the other face-first. Jiehong bashed the one on its back to deactivation while the other had smashed itself to pieces once its flailing fists met the cold earth, the reverberation, Zan guessed, responsible for ripping its own body apart.
Panting, tired, he gasped “Catapults. Grenades!”
Jiehong realized what he meant and attached the weapons to the engines.
Meanwhile, he continued panting. The battle finally caught up to him and he felt withered to his soul. Sweat rolled off his body and dripped to the ground like rain. He wanted to remove his gear so as to feel the breeze on his skin, but he knew better than to ditch his special armor in the middle of a battle.
His limbs shook. But he knew he couldn’t stop now. He saw on the island’s central most hill the final set of siege engines. Not catapults, but gigantic crossbows.
Jiehong was already making his way over when Zan, having enough of his adventurism, screamed, “I’m done! Can you give me a gods-damned-moment!”