Glancing over towards our left flank I’m greeted with a shocking sight, as literal legions of Rovers are rising out of the sands in disciplined hordes.

As is often the case I can’t help but feel overwhelmed because it seems that no matter where I look, there’s always a patch of sand disgorging these soldiers.

Was this all a feint?

I mean it does make sense to sacrifice a few thousand troops in order to annihilate an entire army but I just didn’t expect them to be capable of something like this.

In my creator's memories, this isn’t at all how people act, I guess I’ve been humanising everyone far too much.

These aren’t really people, they’re trained and sanctioned killers who’ve been personally fighting in a gruesome war for years or decades.

At this point they’re even more monstrous than I am.

I need to get back to my creator!

And since this is an ambush and it looks like we’re completely surrounded I’m not technically disobeying her orders as every side is now a part of the frontline.

This time I don’t bother to be kind and slow, I just barge through anyone in my path to get back to my creator.

The reaction of our commanders is fairly fast and respectable, as a rapid response force consisting of a few knights immediately begins charging over to cover the left flank while hails of arrows keep the right flank somewhat safe.

But it’s just not enough, the bulk of the army is still fighting at the front and won’t be able to get back in time to help protect the middle and rear formations.

That is if they’re even able to get back.

Charging through a small squadron I continue stampeding towards her, throwing aside any imperials who get in my way.

I don’t care about focusing on the flanks anymore, I don’t need to see what’s happening, I just need to run.

Bolts and arrows penetrate and sink into my flesh by the dozens but it doesn’t matter, none of it matters.

Leaping over a thin line of grim faced spearmen I execute a perfect landing and keep sprinting forward.

I feel a wave of heat sweep over my skin but I don’t take the time needed to look behind myself, whether that magic was ours or not isn’t my concern.

I can figure out how to protect her from mages once I actually reach her.

Darting to the side of a rough square of archers, I reach the weird space in between the middle and rear formation, then everything becomes frictionless, I’m no longer sprinting but rather I’m flying.

Skidding across the sand I feel the grains tear apart and brutalise my flesh.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I think I hit a couple of people as well but I’m too busy figuring out what just happened to confirm that.

Digging my tentacles into the sand I pull myself up and glare over at the direction I was hit.

All I see is a rapidly approaching horse like shape and then I go flying again, my tree mimicry tactic completely failed with half of my embedded tentacles snapping from the impact and the other half sliding out.

Slamming into the ground again I quickly spread my limbs out and press myself into the sand, staying as low as possible.

Then I glare up at whatever this new threat is.

It has four lumpy legs and even with my poor vision, I can see the bulging veins throbbing in them.

What really makes me cautious is the two jagged horns on its head, positioned like the ears of a mule.

Its teeth also are worthy of cation, they look more like daggers than teeth, maybe they actually are?

It’s big as well, easily double my size and I’m not exactly small.

I’m waiting for it to charge me so that I can try to skirt around it and attack but it’s just standing there.

Damm it, this thing must have been sent to prevent me from returning to the backline.

Pulling myself up for a second time, I make a point to avoid looking at it, instead choosing to look around at our surroundings.

However, I don’t get the chance to notice anything as it immediately charges at me.

Throwing myself at it, I target its frontal legs with everything I have.

It swings its head down, shredding the top of my centre of mass but I don't care, I can regenerate but I doubt it can.

Battered and badly damaged I begin to grab ahold of its legs with all my remaining appendages, repeatedly it brings its head back up and then slams it down on top of me, goring me.

Unable to properly move it stumbles and half collapses, still it keeps trying to gore me with its horns and continuously manages to bite chunks out of me with its teeth.

I could keep on targeting its legs but I’ve already achieved my objective, instead, I wait until it brings its head up for another heavy attack and propel myself at its throat with everything I’ve got.

Opening my maw I clamp down and rip into it, blood spurts out everywhere, blinding me.

But all that means is I’ve completely won, whatever this thing is it’s not going to be able to survive with such a debilitating wound and lack of blood.

Unless I’ve misjudged it and it turns out this creature is actually a summon.

Shaking myself left and right, I pull myself off of it, alongside a huge clump of meat which is clenched firmly in my mouth.

Wadling away from the downed creature, I spit out the mouthful of throat and quickly start to clean my eye.

Once my vision is regained I take a quick look around to make sure there’s nothing else that requires my immediate attention.

It looks like there are a few more of those creatures fighting against a couple of contingents of the basic soldiers but otherwise, there doesn’t seem to be any other threats.

I wish that was the case for the rear but unfortunately, it looks like I might be heading to the most intense part of this battlefield.

But such is my duty, or rather my purpose.

It’s dumb to immediately run towards where my creator is without waiting to fully regenerate but I just can’t wait any longer.

Running forward I regain partly my prior gait and begin to stampede towards her, all thoughts of keeping some level of self awareness so I don’t get easily ambushed completely slipping my mind.

All that matters is getting there now, nothing else matters.