“GRUAAAAAAA!”
BOOM!
Tiny’s here. Clad in his armour, he looks like an unstoppable juggernaut, the sheer mass of him is intimidating enough, but then he starts to throw hands and things get really scary. Just not for us. Standing behind the frontline of soldiers, Tiny’s fists blaze with light and electricity and he uses his potent ape boxing Skills to send fists of pure energy smashing into the faces of the oncoming tide of creatures. Relying on their natural toughness, they try to withstand his strength but find it impossible to tank it head on. With a devastating uppercut that starts from his toes and ends with his knuckles nearly scraping the ceiling of the tunnel, Tiny sends a number of enemies flying as if a bomb detonated beneath their feet.
But they don’t stop coming, and not all of the defensive line is holding as well as this section with myself and Tiny in it.
[Invidia, I need you to support the rest of the line, don’t let them buckle under the pressure. Crinis, get ready to intervene if you need to.]
[I hearssss you.]
[Yes, Master.]
Ironically, this is exactly the sort of drawn-out fight that Leeroy and her group are perfectly suited to fight. Vibrant is a powerful soldier, and her group is highly evolved, but they’re built for speed, not this sort of slugfest. It’s going to be tough for the speedy ant so long as the battle lines remain static, she simply has no room in which to run.
As the pressure increases and the packed armies smash into each other again and again, it becomes harder to have the spare room for thoughts of the rest of the battle. In my face is a constant stream of these disfigured part-monsters, each one quick and strong, smashing at my carapace and trying to claw my eyes before I can finish them off or drive them back. At my back, the ants hold the line and push up behind me, occasionally climbing onto my back to dart forward and provide support, shrinking my vision even further.
The heat and noise are intense to the point I’m forced to sink my mind deep into the Meditation Skill just to maintain focus. It’s something I’ve become reluctant to do at times. Being able to think free from distracting emotions is nice and all, but emotions can be a source of great energy and drive, pushing me past the point when my mind under the influence of the Meditation Skill would pull the plug. Except the distractions are overwhelming to the point that I don’t have a choice.
CHOMP! CHOMP! CHOMP!
My mandibles reset and snap, reset and snap as fast as I can manage it until my face aches. The extra penetrating power of the bites is more than welcome, allowing me to preserve stamina by holding off on using my Doom Chomp, but still able to inflict severe damage on the foe. In the back of my mind, I’m conscious this is merely the opening stanza of the battle. Whoever and whatever these creatures are, they are the prelude for the true fight to come. Waiting in the wings for us to tire, the Legion is still out there, and they’ll join in the fight the moment they feel the time is right.
[Master, I’m stepping in.]
Dammit! Surely they aren’t breaking through already?
DOOM CHOMP!
To gain space, I activate my most powerful physical Skill. The black mandibles of dark energy manifest and crunch on everything ten feet in front of my face, the momentum and power of my new muscular mutation translating into the Skill. Whatever is left standing after the strike I blast with steam and rear back, lowering my back legs and extending the front to lift my head high enough to see.
Crinis is right, a section of the line to my right is starting to struggle. The freaks, sensing weakness, hold and scream with savage glee as they pile on the pressure, activating their Skills and slashing into the lines with wild abandon, heedless for their own safety. Crinis steps into the breach, announcing her presence in her usual insidious way as a forest of barbed limbs rise from the tunnel floor. The moment they’re long enough, they begin to wind themselves around the unsuspecting forms of the attackers, binding them tight as the barbs dig into their flesh and begin to perform their dark work.
I lower myself down, unwilling to see the rest. Hopefully, she manages to trigger her fear Skills and these guys back off a little. If the ant battle line is already starting to break, it’s a worrying sign, to say the least.
Will we need to bring the humans forward and activate their buff already? I hope not, we need to hold off as long as possible before bringing the Antmancers into the fray. Their buff is powerful, boosting the stats of our combatants, but the humans simply aren’t trained for extended, intense fighting such as this, and we don’t have enough people to rotate them during the battle. No matter what, we can’t bring them forward until the Legionaries themselves stand before us.
It only took a second, but the space in front of me is once again filled with opponents and my reflexes trigger just in time to help me avoid another strike directed at my eyes.
Dammit! Do I need diamond eyes now?
CHOMP!
This is going to be a long fight…
142. The Siege, Part 20
Titus watched the battle unfold from the rear ranks of the Legion column, his experienced eye catching numerous flaws in execution that any outside observer would fail to notice. He couldn’t prevent the slight twitch of his eye at the sight.
They can’t help it, he reminded himself. His Legion was still green, not used to working together and lacking proper drill experience. The auxiliaries were even worse, though it was more common for the shock troops to show such a lack. Former prisoners slated for death, they hadn’t come from the best stock. Even so, the Legion had turned them into viable soldiers, given them a family, a purpose, and the dignity they’d lacked most of their lives.
“Don’t pull that face, Commander, I can see it too. Don’t you worry, I’ll give them a proper tongue lashing when they get back.”
Titus turned to his side where the commanding officer of the auxiliary detachment stood, doing much the same thing he himself was, looking over the field of battle, seeking flaws in both sides of the conflict.
“Your unit is relatively fresh into the field?” he enquired.
Waving a gnarled claw, the former human pulled a towel from beneath his robes, which he then used to wipe the slobber from his distended jaws.
“Pardon, Commander. I figured you wouldn’t want a shower as well as a conversation!”
A wheezing chuckle emerged from the auxiliary, which threatened to do just that as a spray of sizzling drool launched from the back of his throat. Titus glanced down and saw that little was left of the towel, most of the fabric already being melted away.
“Cloud salamander?” the commander asked.
“Spot on! You know, most people think the acid came from a bile monster or some such. Terrible eating! I’m far too classy to be caught feasting on Biomass such as that!”
Once again, the wheeze and cough which passed for a laugh, followed by another spray of hissing fluid.
“We lost a lot of people during the last wave,” the former human continued. “Fresh recruits get shoved into the mix with hardly a ‘how do you do’, and we need to whip them into shape faster than you can blink. It’s not easy, but I think we’ve done fairly well.”
Titus nodded. If what he was saying was true, then the many tactical lapses he spotted were understandable, generous even.
“It’s hard for us once we get in the field,” the auxiliary commander went on, gesturing at his own facial appendages. “Communication isn’t our strong point at the best of times. If I start barking orders at my troops, I’m likely to melt half of them!”