Kapitel 278: Song of Battle

The drunken Modestus staggered to his feet, strapping on his shield and grabbing his pilum.

Harpies.

Flame-taken harpies. Naked women with chicken wings for arms. A dozen of them swooped down, grasping his Rhodok allies with their taloned feet and before gliding back up into the air.

The attack was so sudden, no one could get their shite together.

"Put me down!!!" One of the Munifices screamed.

The harpy dropped that one off of the cliffside, and they plummeted down, hundreds of feet below.

Ferrutius squinted his eyes hard-- he had been hitting the wine far harder than Modestus had, "That was a very poor choice of words."

Modestus felt his heart beat painfully in his chest.

Seven hells, was it going to just... stop? Bah. Whatever. Even if it did, he'd have a good six or seven seconds before he'd die. He'd just go down fighting, "Decanus, put your helmet on. Quickly, now. Everyone is dying."

"Ssssod off, Brother-Immortal," Ferrutius slurred as he grabbed his helmet and buckled it on. "You're not my dad."

"Your mother's name is Scintilla, isn't it?" Modestus prodded.

The lush bastard had let her name slip during an earlier conversation.

Ferrutius' eyes widened, "Seven hells... Maybe you are? ...To the monster killing, then."

The pair charged forward, sobering somewhat as they ran.

A 9-foot tall creature made entirely of steel stampeded out of the cave on four legs and hooves. It gored one of the Munifices with massive bullhorns, piercing her chest entirely. In its two metal arms, it carried a massive battleaxe, chopping the woman's body in two.

"Do YOUR BALLS hang LOWWW~?!?! Do they DANGLE to and FROOOO~???!"

It was screeching a cursed tune... None of the Rhodoks dared to stand before it... everyone running, whether it was from its appearance or its 'song', Modestus was unsure.

"Can you TIE them in a KNOOOOTTTTT!!!? UHUUUHUU~" The metal bull-creature was... crying, in deep, sonorous sobs. He sliced down, severing the torso of a Munifex and another Munifex' legs below the knee, "Can you TIE them in a BOOOOOOOWWW??!"

"Nope," Ferrutius stumbled in the dirt, tumbling and getting dirt in his beard, but scrambling to his feet and running in a different direction. "Big nope. Biiiig big nope."

Modestus was of the same mind. The two of them turned away from the cave and immediately started running down the mountain path. All of the Rhodoks with at least half-a-brain did the same.

Death cries all around, Modestus dared not look back. From the shouts and shrieks and squeals, he figured even more Flamescarred creatures were spilling from the mouth of the cavern.

Seven bloody hells. The Rhodoks have unleashed a plague of monsters on the Holy Country of Tyrion. We will forever be known as the Gold-Rank guild of failures.

He hoped his wife and kid would be okay. There wasn't much hope left for him.

He and the remaining Rhodoks... four of them total, stopped running. The path ahead of them was lined with... spider's webs, each strand as thick as a man's arm. And they had to get through several feet of it, to continue down the mountain.

...Of course, there was a faster path down the mountain. It was over the edge.

Ferrutius growled, "It's just some webs, you blockheads. We'll just CUT through!!"

He swung his sword, trying to cut through the thick, vine-like webs. The sword stuck. As he struggled with that, his hand stuck. The webs moved in the wind or by some unseen force, and his forward leg stuck.

Two long, monstrous purple arms reached through the webs, grabbing the remaining two Munifices and pulling them into the webs.

Modestus could barely make out its form within the web forest, but it was big... and it wasn't shaped like a human... It spoke with a voice so low and deep, the webs vibrated, further entrapping Ferrutius and the others in the glob, "We... shall keep you.... alive... My children... will feast... upon human flesh... for many nights."

That sounded like a horrible time. Modestus took a step back, glancing at the stuck Ferrutius, "Decanus, I'll be going."

Ferrutius gave a muffled scream in response. It seemed some of the webs got onto his mouth.

Modestus turned and began running towards the ledge to jump.

He had always wanted to do the leap through the air, pilum-pointed-downward attack... landing on his knees like a hero. He'd never done it before. He knew he'd probably hurt himself doing it. But in this situation, he figured he wasn't going to survive, anyroad, so he figured this would at least be fun.

Something snatched his spear wrist and tossed him to the side, and he rolled several times on the hard dirt instead of off of the mountain. His head smashed painfully onto the hard-packed surface, banging against his helmet.

Bollocks.

"Can't have that, Brother-Immortal," The voice of Duplicarius Zehr sounded out throughout the carnage of battle.

"Zehr? Seven hells, boy!" Modestus sat up, trying to blink his eyes out of his daze, "You know how long it would take for the two of us to kill all the monsters here? I'd rather die!"

"Ever the modest individual," Zehr pursed his lips.

Zehr's armor was pristine, untouched... a bit dusty, but it was marked by no bits of blood. And under an arm he carried... the Primus Pilus' helmet.

The forward team had failed, that much he could guess. But Zehr's appearance was... ominous.

"Brother-Thrumondi, I have need of your axe arm!" He called.

...

Tycondrius examined Modestus' severed head, holding it up by his black and white peppered beard.

He wasn't certain that the old veteran was actually immortal, but just in case, he had the Dwarven Chieftain fight him in one-on-one combat. The dwarf won easily, cutting off the Munifex's head.

There was no burst of light, no leaking of mana, no sparkly reincarnation or transmigration effect-- it was likely he wasn't as immortal as he said he was.

But still, Tycon liked being thorough.

"Woz that all, Snaake?" The surly dwarf grumbled. "Seemed hardly worth the trouble."

"My thanks, Master Dwarf. It was a personal request," Tycon smiled. "And as you know, there are more at the base of the mountain."

"Ahaha," Thrumondi chuckled. "Then let us continue our war!"

AUTORENGEDANKEN
CouchSurfingDragon

It cost one power stone to go to Stephanos’ singing night. All proceeds are nonprofit and will go towards the war effort against the humans at the base of the mountain (and towards the open bar.)

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