The two sides were tensed on both sides of the smog wall that covered Maxwell's kingdom, though both were unaware of the other. They both could feel a tension in the air, a feeling of the importance of what was about to happen, and as such, both armies prepared, though they did so in very different ways.

The army of smog grass catapults was all preparing themselves by drawing back their arms, ready to launch their payloads or bring down razor-sharp spikes, depending on the catapult in question. The miserable rage catapult stopped its patrol and now maintained its position at the back of the line, all of its sad catapult frames ready to launch their venomous payloads, and its rage catapult frames were locked, fully ready to spring if it needed to charge at the enemy.

Meanwhile the army of grass pixie hunters was preparing by getting into nine separate arrow formations that formed into one giant arrow formation, all of the hunters ready to leap at the hunting elder's command. For a moment the hunting elders debated in the realm of their own minds, using their shared senses and experience to judge when the time was right.

Then at some unseen sign that only the combined senses and experience of the nine hunting elders could see, they gave the command. "Attack!" The hunting elders all roar at the same time before leaping into the smog wall with their army of hunters following behind them in their insect trophy armor. They quickly charged through the smog wall and found themselves facing down the catapult army of the smog kingdom.

They do not hesitate; they do not stop the hunting elders, and those the hunters following them continue to follow them. The miserable rage catapult seeing the charge of the grass pixie hunters gives out his hunters. "Sad smog and grass catapults fire!" The miserable rage grass catapult roars, to which the sad smog catapult obeys without hesitation. So in no time at all, the sky is filled for a moment with rocks and the venom of the sad catapults before it rains down on the advancing army of the grass pixie hunters.

The grass pixie hunter army proves their dexterity as they seemingly dance through the hail of fire. Several are slain as there is just too much being rained down upon them for there not to be casualties. But there are far fewer than miserable Rage Catapult was expecting. "Sad smog catapults and grass catapults fall back! Rage catapults advance!" The miserable rage catapult roars, waiting for its long-range catapults to gain some distance and ordering its short-range catapults into a countercharge to delay them and perhaps even push them back out of Smog Kingdom territory.

Sadly for the miserable rage catapult, that was not the case, as well the rage catapults gave a good account of themselves, wielding their razor-sharp spikes well as they had a trigger and so could bring them to bear quickly and with force. The problem the angry smog catapults were facing was that they were outnumbered and the grass pixie hunters were faster than them, which had been a problem before, but now with their new insect trophy armor, they could bring insect claws and mandibles to bear, which could damage or destroy the angry smog catapults.

So while the angry smog catapults were holding the line, they were slowly being ground down as more and more of them were slain. It did not help that the nine hunting elders could take on and destroy multiple angry smog catapults at the same time as their large and fast forms sped across the battlefield, spearing through one angry smog catapult after another. Luckily, to help balance out his mounting losses, the catapult workshop was still making catapults and at the moment was providing a steady supply of rage smog catapults to replace the ones he had lost.

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The miserable rage catapult watched as his front line continued to be pushed slowly back as losses mounted. It found its usually tense emotions intensifying even further as the battle on the front line unfolded. Its rage was mounting at the fact that the enemy grass pixie army that had dared to invade wasn't already destroyed, and its sorrow was also great at all the fallen rage smog catapults.

"So many lost, never to drive out to squash the enemies of our creator and defend the kingdom again." The miserable rage catapult said it in a magical, necrotic voice filled with sorrow. Then it switched emotions and then spoke again. "I will squash you under my wheels for this like the smears you are!" The miserable rage catapult was now filled with rage.

The elder hunters moved from one side of the battlefield to the other, moving as one, using their shared senses to tell where any of them was needed on the battlefield at any given moment. This allowed them to gain and keep the upper hand in the battle as the necrotic siege weapons found themselves on the back foot or back wheel since the beginning clash.

Though the siege weapons were no easy opponents, despite the hunting elders fighting as one being and all the hunters wearing armor made of the most dangerous beast they had ever hunted, brought to life into animated armor. These melee siege weapons were filled with a rage that allowed them to fight far beyond most to keep going when they should have fallen long ago.

This allowed them to keep fighting despite having what could be considered their insides torn apart due to sheer determination to get one more hit in. Though it also didn't help that the large workshop the scout report had informed them of was constantly making more of the foul things. It was easy to spot as it was a large complex and being constantly filled with the dark smog of the kingdom.

Though now having seen it, the elders began to fight harder, as well as the hunters under them. This was because they saw the workshop for what it represented: a possible future for all the grass pixie clans to be nothing more than places of spawning for the smog kingdom. Though as they fought, there was one thing that did give the entire grass pixie hunter army pause, regular and elder alike.

This one thing was the massive catapult in the distance that stood above all of its kin. The magically sensitive grass pixies could sense the foul magical necrotic madness radiating off the gigantic siege weapon. None of them relished getting near it, but all of them knew that they must, for it was clearly the leader of this army of siege weapons and a defender of the catapult workshop.

The battle raged on as grass pixies pressed the rage smog catapults, slowly pushing them back despite the constant reinforcements they received from the nearby catapult workshop. The question now was does the miserable rage catapult enter the fry or try something else with his catapult army?