Undying Blood - Beta - Chapter 05 (Patreon)

Lying on the tables in the tent were the rumors and stories they had ignored.

A wolf that looked like a man, with long legs, wearing some weird leather armor, dark fur and half a snout, lay on one wooden platform.

Next to it was a cat-like person, slender but with muscles displayed under the tight skin.  Sharp claws remained on the one hand or paw that it had, and there were spots all over its fur.  

Three more tables were made up, each one with a creature from their nightmares or stories.

"Is that... a Minotaur?"

"It's a bull. There isn't anything special other than it has the ability to hold a weapon. It has no magic.  Those are the last two which we will talk about in a minute."

"How... how do we fight these things?"

Malcomb was backing up, glancing toward the tent flap we had come in and a pair of guards in full chain armor were shaking their heads.

"With that damn sword I taught you to use, you fool! Stop crying like a baby who needs its mother's teat! Either go out there tomorrow and kill them or die to them.  The only way you'll make it out of this army alive is by pushing down your fears and fighting these things."

Three others had joined Malcomb, all moving slowly toward the tent flap when the sound of swords being drawn from a scabbard cut through the silence.

"You four get back in position or you'll wish you could defend yourselves.  That's an order."

The guard on the left moved with a grace and style that made it apparent that Phillip would most likely die to the man if they fought.

"But--"

He took a step forward, making the foursome back up toward the rest of us.

"Don't be a pissant.  I've killed more men than I would have imagined.  Cutting down another sheet stain won't bother me.  Decide now so I can either go back to my post or cut your head off and call for someone to toss you in the burn pile."

His tone felt about as rough as the sword that had left its holder.  

Only a second passed before everyone had rejoined us.

Phillip was frowning, shaking his head.

"You're making me look bad.  Next time I'll gut you myself.  Now follow me to these last two."

After the Minotaur or bull or whatever person was a bird-like creature and a snake.  Dark black feathers that almost looked purple sometimes when the torchlight shifted inside.  Both of its hands were missing and it had a large hole in its chest.  Blank black eyes stared from its death gaze and felt like it could still see into my soul.

Is that a woman?

The snake person had curves that added a feminine touch.  Beyond the flared out snake head, the single red eyes and sharp fangs, its upper body definitely had bumps hidden by the armor across its chest.

Its bottom half was just like a snake, hanging off the table and running about six feet or more.

"Yes, that's a woman and no, you can't have sex with it," Phillip said, his smirk back as he spoke. "These two are more dangerous than the other three.  They can cast spells, fire, air, poison, a variety of different things.  Even worse is there are other casters we haven't managed to collect a corpse from.  All we know is these are our real targets.  If you can get through these three monsters and into their ranks, kill as many as you can.  Each one will net you ten gold for your family.  Show your fathers that you finally have worth."

No one said anything, trying to absorb all the truth of what was being told to them.

Magic was a part of life.  None of them would ever get it because they weren't worthy of that power.  The amount of money and training it took was only what usually the oldest received.  Some, like his second brother and sister, were given that chance, both rising through the ranks of those able to harness it in powerful ways.

Oh, the things you can buy with father's money... maybe even love.

Without thinking, Francis reached out, touching one of the feathers and felt it crumble against his touch.

"Don't touch them!"

The guard drew his sword again as Francis shook his hands, black and purple dust filling the air as he did.

"Everyone out! NOW!"

Without missing a beat, the group clambered out of the tent flap, choking and coughing as the feather pieces began to burn in the air.

Everyone piled out, coughing as their eyes watered and burned.

"What did you do?!"

"I... I just wanted to--"

A fist struck him and Francis found himself on the ground, a ringing sound from the impact.

The tip of cold metal touched his neck the second he rolled over and green eyes from the guard inside glared at him.

"I should gut you right now! Do you have--"

The guard shook his head and cut himself off.

Roaring, he pointed somewhere, and the other guard took off running.

"No... you don't, but now you all do. NEVER touch the black feathers. It takes magic to stabilize them so we can move them.  If you do, it will turn to dust and those who breathe it can find themselves unable to breathe.  Thankfully, it has been dead for a while and appears to not be as potent, but if you attack them, only strike them with a weapon. Do you understand?!"

Everyone nodded and Francis watched as the guard stepped back, sheathing his sword.

"Help him up and then get out of here," the guard stated as he turned to where Phillip was. "Count yourself lucky.  It would appear someone failed to tell you that.  Why, I cannot know, but part of me wonders if it has something to do with that."

Francis saw as Phillip touched his scar for a moment and received confirmation from the guard.

"I am thankful for that information."

Michael gave his brother a small nudge as he came to stand by him, raising an eyebrow at how their asshole of a leader was suddenly acting.

"Then go. I will deal with this."

"You heard him! Everyone to your tents! Prepare for tomorrow morning.  When the horn sounds, I expect you all to be ready to fight."

Everyone started moving, and Francis held back, seeing that Phillip was frowning at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Why wouldn't--"

A hand came up and the older man shook his head.

"Not here, not now.  Survive tomorrow and we can talk.  For now... thank you. That mistake told me something I need to know."

Without waiting for him to reply, the instructor moved off, in a hurry to get somewhere that wasn't outside the tent they had just been in.

What have I found myself in the middle of?

Pondering that thought, Francis moved toward the spot where his brother and tent mates would be.

***

"TO ARMS! EVERYONE TO POSITIONS!"

The call came over and over as the horn sounded and the noise of all the troops moving was almost deafening.  Yet even over the shouts and cries, the horns pierced the steady shouts.

Even the ground seemed to shake from the movement as lines began to form.  Each section of tents moved up in order, fitting into position as they moved to marked lines on the battlefield.

"It's happening... It's really happening," Michael muttered.  

"If I die," Henry said, "Know I'm the one who slept with Sarah."

Francis watched as Gregory turned on his brother, mouth open and eyes wide.

"You! You're the one who slept with her! Mother of the gods! I knew it! I didn't want to believe it but--"

"GET IN LINE AND SHUT IT!"

One of the officers cut off the brothers and spat as a secret that obviously had Gregory upset was revealed.

"Sorry, I didn't sleep with anyone," Francis said over the sound of marching. "I could lie and say I did."

"Please, we both know it would be a lie. But if you die, I'm keeping your money."

Michael grinned, but Francis could see the tension in his brother's jaw.

He's trying to make it so I don't know he's afraid... hell I'm barely not shitting my pants.

Across the field, the other army lined up and even from so far away it was hard to make out.  A mile separated them, and it had to do with the siege engines and magic spells.  Archers were way behind, but they were worth more than common fighters like everyone up front.  

Arrows cost money and were hard to make.  A good archer could also kill many more enemies, it appeared from the things they had learned last night.  

Francis felt his hand shake as he held his sword in his right.  His left arm was flexed tight, shield in position so that everyone could raise them if needed.

All those drills Phillip put us through... will they even help?

More horns sounded and a voice suddenly reached their ears.

"Warriors! Know that your King honors your bravery! Survive and be rewarded! Find wealth and a new life by proving ourselves today! Rest assured, victory is guaranteed as four masters and one grandmaster are with us today, lending their power and skill! So fight for our kingdom! Be the wolves that tear our enemies to shred! Be the hero we need!"

A loud cheer rose across the army when the King's voice stopped and Francis found himself struggling to not cheer as well.

Why... Why am I cheering? We're the ones fighting and he is the one back there in safety!

[ Mental Resist Check Failed ]

[ Mental Resist Skill Learned - 1 Basic ]

Blinking, he found himself still cheering, but the idea that he had gained a skill made his mind itch.

Did the King just use a power to make us act like this?

Two loud peels of horns echoed and the moment everyone dreaded began.

"Warriors! Advance!"

"I changed my mind," Michael said as they started to move in formation. "If you die, I want your helmet."

Unable to help himself, Francis snorted.

"It's all yours."

***

Fireballs, arrows, large boulders, and a slew of other magic and non magical projectiles flew over their heads as they picked up speed.

Spells and objects came from the other side, crashing into their ranks and sending people to their left and right to their death. Screams came while they were still half a mile out from both sides, crashing into each other.

Still they ran, shouting for no reason.

[ Mental Resist Check Failed ]

[ Mental Resist Skill Increased - 4 Basic ]

There it is again...

His own voice surprised him, but as one they moved and Francis felt like his brother on his left and some random warrior on his right were all he needed to survive.

That dream was shattered with two hundred yards to go.

Each step that was taken had more objects, and magical spells hurled their way.

Occasionally, a fireball or some ball of black energy bounced off an invisible wall overhead, exploding high above the sky, flames or mystical power raining down upon them.

"Shields! Arrows incoming!"

The volley of arrows darkened a section of the sky and Francis finally noticed that the cloud of carrion birds was gone.  Until about an hour ago, the sky was littered with them,now none were around, somehow sensing perhaps the carnage about to take place and sought refuge in the forest, waiting for when they could come and eat their fill again.

He lifted his shield like all the others, slowing a step and bunching up into formation as their bucklers lay upon each other.

The sounds and pressure of arrows striking rang out, like a thousand hammers all striking wood and metal at the same time.

Cries came from where some made it through the gaps.  More cries came as the ones who fell left holes for others to suffer.

Like a domino when one fell, others did as well, unable to stop the barrage.

Seconds turned to eternity until the call to march came again.

"Full marching speed!"

They had to move quickly, knowing that standing still would result in easily being overrun if the other side hit them.

Once again, they shouted, roaring in defiance as a volley of arrows from their side passed overhead, wanting a turn to thin out the numbers.

"Prepare to engage!"

Each time the sound that filled his head was overwhelming, but it made it so that everyone knew the truth.  

Those unfortunate bastards on the front row are about to die.

Bodies were flung into the air, thirty feet high, some cut in pieces, and the sound of mooing filled Francis's ears.

The front line for the other side had been the Minotaur ones, their ten foot or taller size allowing them to plow through three ranks, smashing with ease.

Some of the front line monsters had died, but the fact was that across the entire battlefield almost three lines of human troops were dead in upon the initial clash of armies.

The sounds of swords and fighting along with cries from both man and animals came and slowly the lines began to move again.

"Press on! Prepare for the next wave!"

Unsure what was next, Francis counted himself lucky as a fireball flew above them and landed about forty yards behind them, the shockwave of the impact sending the troops behind him into his back.

"Slash and thrust! Wolfkin and Tigerkins!"

Loud cries that reminded Francis of the freaking pumas could be heard, along with howls as the next line engaged.

Three more and then us...

He could see movement, sense the press of the troops behind and before him.  Everywhere there was movement and someone or something cried out.  

Multiple corpses of men were impaled on a large horn of a down Minotaur as the men shifted around it.  More were being moved past and beyond, large gashes in their flesh, a black liquid that had to be blood seeping from dozens of cuts.

Worse yet was the other things they stepped on.

Men... flattened like a wall fell on them... so many... and the body parts...

Fighting the desire to throw up, Francis focused on the spot before him.  It appeared only two lines remained before he and his friends would fight.  The sound of battle was louder and corpses of men slashed through their armor, chests opened up completely, necks bit off, lay next to black and spotted furred shapes that people stabbed as they moved past, ensuring none played possum.

Then an opening came in his vision between the row before.

One line left!

His hand felt light, his arm was loose and prepared to strike as the group of warriors before him shouted and ran forward.

Now the fighting was chaos.  Men turning and twisting, fighting anything that wasn't like them.

Everywhere was beastkin, slashing, kicking, hacking and biting.  

The armor they had been given didn't do a thing to stop the weapons that struck or the claws that raked.

Teeth tore through leather, flesh, muscle and bone as if it was fresh baked bread.

"Seventh line - Attack!"

This voice in his head felt different.  It wasn't the one from before. It was personal.  He knew it was time to move and as one, every man in his row that was still standing surged.

Again he shouted, not sure why, but his voice cried out as his sword rose, ready to slash whatever creature got in his way.

Why... why am I like this? Why do I crave death?

[ Mental Resist Check Failed ]

[ Mental Resist Skill Increased - 7 Basic ]

It was time to fight.