Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 45 - The meat grinder - Part One

Rikit had secured the second portal in my absence and the females of her pack had briefly visited the first floor of the Laine Labyrinth. They had lingered just long enough to retrieve Khibi before being shepherded to Sanctuary by Rikit.

Fesk was wearing a suit of Asrusian armour. With a combination of padded cloth armour and steel plates, Fesk’s face was completely hidden beneath his helmet. However, despite the special articulation allowed by his gauntlets, Fesk’s signing was clipped and lacking in effort. As much as I wanted to attribute his standoffishness to nerves, it was obvious that losing the Gnoll cub Khibi had upset him.

Nila had already left the first floor before my return. Both she, her team, and Cooper, were no doubt shoring up morale by making a point of being seen by the defenders. The Drakes were large, but the walls of the city were taller. Neither Drake would see actual combat until the outermost wall was lost.

This was perhaps for the best.

The overwhelming majority of the empire’s army was comprised of Slaves. Most of the Slaves were humans and comparatively weak low-tier monsters, little more than fodder and given very little in the way of equipment.

Under normal circumstances, the low-tier monsters would be enough to overwhelm opposing forces of human soldiers through sheer brute strength. The Enslaved humans were likely just present to pad out the numbers.

The Slaves would be nothing to the Drakes but an easy meal. If the Slaves managed to scale the wall or breach the gate, it would be an unmitigated slaughter.

There would be only so many Slaves the Parole Officers and I would be able to ‘save’ from the empire. It was an unfortunate truth, and I had too much to lose to make risking my life for theirs a viable option.

The abundance of Taskmasters, Slavers and Slave Masters in the empire’s ranks was an indication of how easy the Classes were to unlock. Having unlocked all three myself, I knew that the primary means of unlocking all three boiled down to the number of Slaves under your control and the number of Slaves obeying your commands. It was pathetically easy to turn the Parole Officers from unclassed men and women into Slave Masters.

Already controlling hundreds of Slaves, all I had to do was shift progressively more Slaves under each Parole Officer, who would in turn issue them commands. However, becoming Slave Masters was not enough. Once each Parole Officer unlocked the Slave Master Class they were then promoted to Underlord to provide a dramatically increased capacity for Slaves in a personal retinue.

The promotion also gave each Parole Officer a modified Class, although rather unsurprisingly the fifty men and women were divided into only two such Classes. Human Thrall Herder and Human Dominator respectively.

The Dominators were in the minority. Only three men and two women had diverged into this particular Class. I didn’t know enough about the candidates to determine if it was a result of temperament or personality traits, but a commonality in both Intelligence and Willpower being unusually high might be the cause.

This wasn’t to say that the Thrall Herders had low Willpower, far from it. They simply didn’t have nearly as high an Intelligence stat to go along with that Willpower. Conversely, the Thrall Herders had a higher Presence stat.

This made a sort of sense when it came to the difference in their Class Abilities. With a name like Dominator, it was hardly surprising that its Abilities focused on dominating enemies. Dominate, its first and primary Ability was like Enslavement on steroids, inflicting both paralysis and pain until the target submits or dies. The second Ability, Sin Eater, redirected all negative Conditions from the Dominator to a Dominated Slave at the cost of the Slave’s mana.

The remaining Abilities of the Dominator were shared with the Thrall Herder. Obedience, enhanced Slaves' endurance and gave them resistance to Fatigue and Exhaustion while obeying Orders and Commands. Beneath the Whip, drained the Slaves of their mana to replenish a portion of the Thrall Herder or Dominator’s own while also inflicting damage on the Slaves.

Besides Enslavement, the Thrall Herders had the Herding Chattel Ability which greatly expanded the number of Slaves they could hold in their group, party, retinue, or otherwise. The Master’s Favourite Ability allowed the Thrall Herders to select a handful of Slaves to function as Taskmasters without actually awarding or unlocking the Class. More or less, this Ability seemed designed to allow the Thrall Herders a more adaptive combat style in battle, with the Master’s Favourites redirecting the herd of Slaves on the fly.

I wondered if the higher level Slave Masters from the empire had such an Ability as well. It seemed likely.

Unfortunately, neither Class had the ability to steal Slaves in the same manner that I did. I could only hope that one of them would gain the Ability as the Parole Officers levelled up their respective Classes.

While I unlocked the Parole Officers Classes, Nadine was no less busy organising volunteers from the Slaves to serve as porters to collect the wounded and bring them to the field hospital. With my permission, Nadine was allowed to offer dramatic reductions in required service to receive citizenship. Even so, she struggled to recruit candidates.

The Asrusian soldiers, and perhaps even elements of the citizenry would likely assist Nadine and the other Surgeons as well, but I could tell Nadine was disappointed at not being able to rally a sizable labour force on her own.

The badly scarred Elf, Keith, hadn’t accompanied me when I left Sanctuary, so it was just Fesk and myself that would be riding on Ushu’s back. However, in order to save time, and get Nadine and her Surgeons to the field hospital sooner, they were assisted onto the platform by Fesk and given instruction to hold onto the central bars.

Ushu seemed to know what was going on, taking slow deliberate steps while shaking his neck and tail before releasing a deafening roar and stepping through the portal.

No doubt having seen Cooper pass through to the lower city already, it didn’t stop the soldiers and citizens of the city from staring at Ushu in wide-eyed terror and awe as the giant reptile stomped his way through the city. It was obvious by the way Ushu would huff and release guttural roars while passing the larger crowds, that he enjoyed the attention and more specifically, the admiration his parade through the city was attracting.

Relieved that I didn’t have to waste mental energy reining in any potential violent impulses, I was more than content to allow the albino dino to preen in front of his adoring public. So long as Ushu considered citizens and soldiers as a source of worship to prop up his ego, and not as a source of easy food, I was willing to encourage the behaviour.

I would make mention of it the next time I spoke with Gregory. It wouldn’t hurt to have a dedicated cast of sycophants to support the Drakes' respective egos when passing through populated areas.

Just as I had expected, the warehouses of the lowest district of the city had been taken for military housing. Noticing more than a few civilians peeking through broken shutters, I was disappointed that the poorest and most vulnerable citizens hadn’t been given the opportunity to evacuate and resettle.

Another subject to raise with Gregory when I next saw him.

The military had converted a number of the larger warehouses into a field hospital and they were already close to capacity. Wagon Loads of wounded soldiers were delivered from the outermost wall dozens at a time before being sent back to repeat the trip all over again.

Dropping off Nadine and her students to do what they could, I continued with Fesk to the long path leading down to the outer walls. After passing through the gate, Fesk raised the banners on Ushu’s platform so they could be caught in the updraft.

From atop Ushu’s saddle and the connected platform, we had an unobstructed view of the enemy forces streaming towards the walls of the city. Like a carpet of fire ants, it was almost impossible to see the ground for the Slaves and soldiers surging around the city.

The enemy had erected fortifications of their own. A ragged wall of stone, timber and dirt cut off the city from all potential avenues of escape. It was clear that the empire wanted no one to escape their clutches.

Slaves were streaming onto the outer wall from crude ladders braced against the outer side of the wall.

As fast as the Asrusian soldiers could destroy or disengage a ladder, another would take its place. Near constantly surrounded on their own defensive ground, the soldiers fought with disciplined ferocity against the endless horde.

Contrary to my expectations, Nila, her squires and Cooper were very much a part of the fighting. The ebb and flow of battle forced ground to be given before being retaken again, and in those instances, the empire’s slaves surged past the embattled Asrusian soldiers and shimmied down large thick ropes that had been arced over the wall.

That was where Cooper wrought bloody havoc, ripping and tearing bodies apart with ease and gorging on their corpses. Ushu’s imminent arrival had apparently not gone unnoticed and Cooper’s savagery only intensified.

My own expectation of survivors from amongst the Slaves had been woefully optimistic. It was perhaps for the best that the Parole Officers were making their own way through the city. There would be no Slaves for them to seize even if they had the Ability for it.

Similarly, a ragged cheer rose from the embattled soldiers atop the wall.

I had already inserted myself into the commander's Party and my Synergies and Class Abilities asserted themselves the moment I came into range.

Before Ushu had taken more than a handful of steps, the soldiers had begun bodily battering their way through the Slaves and retaking the wall.

A bellowing roar from Ushu brought a brief moment of silence to battle before the clamour began anew.

Signing for Fesk to take the reins, I prepared to join the fighting atop the wall. As strange as the logic was, I found the idea of killing the Slaves myself to be far more tolerable than watching Ushu and Cooper do the same.

Leaving the saddle, I took a moment to steady my nerves before using one of the empire’s ropes to begin scaling the wall. The rope had slipped slightly when I was a third of the way up the wall and it took a few moments before I built up the nerve to begin climbing anew.

It was a testament to the smiths’ and leather workers' skill that the most uncomfortable aspect of my climb was the sound of the thick iron plates scraping against the stone of the wall. One of the benefits of growing larger was that the iron plates were now spaced farther apart and allowed greater freedom of movement than when I had first been gifted with the original armour. This had the downside of being slightly less protective, but I appreciated the increased mobility more than the minor loss in protection. Anything strong enough to worry about wouldn’t be deterred by the crude iron plates anyway.

As I crested the parapets I came under attack almost immediately.

Without helmets to protect their heads, or conceal their faces, I could see absolute terror in the eyes of the human Slaves, but panicked anger from a small gang of scarred Orcs.

Just like in the Hurst Labyrinth, the Orcs were immediately triggered into a strange fearful rage by my presence. Easily more than twice their size, I swatted the first Orc off the wall and in the general direction of Ushu, who was waiting below.

The two remaining Orcs struck ineffectively at my armoured shoulders and head as I clambered onto the wall.

Catching the large club of the next Orc, I kicked him in the midsection and sent him flying off the wall and crashing into another Slave that had just reached the top of one of the ladders. They both fell out of sight and very likely to their deaths.

The remaining Orc and nearby human Slaves rushed me, the former eagerly while the latter reeked of spilled bowels.

I did my best to ignore their terrified faces and hefted a thick machete from my belt.

Memories of Lash and our children flashed before my eyes.

I closed my heart to the Slaves and cleaved through the Orc’s right shoulder and out the left side of his chest, spattering the wall with blood.

The Orc fell into two pieces, his body spilling enough blood to cause the approaching human Slaves to lose their footing.

“For Suzy...” I whispered to myself, hewing down two desperate men in rags with one backhanded swing, “And for Pete...” I decapitated an old woman.

One of the Slaves attempted to run but made it only two steps before buckling to the ground and convulsing in a deadly seizure.

I swept aside the three remaining Slaves with effortless ease, the Slaves tumbling over the side of the wall and to Ushu’s waiting jaws.

Asrusian soldiers further down the line on either side were pushing back and slowly reclaiming the wall thanks to a fresh wave of reinforcements. Rather than cutting the ropes, they were burning them instead.

I buried my machete navel deep in the next Slave to attempt climbing the closest ladder, splitting the top couple of rungs in the process.

Arrows, javelins and stones had begun pelting my general vicinity, however, a recent addition to my chest armour made the threat of these projectiles negligible. It was a cross between something the human smiths had called a bevor and a gorget. Composed of a crude iron plate bent lengthways from corner to corner and riveted to a thick sheet of leather attached to my upper chest armour, it deflected and intercepted any projectiles that otherwise would have made it to my face.

The protection worked against other attacks as well. Unfortunately, while it made it almost impossible for regular-sized opponents to strike at my head at all, the hollow wedge of thick iron created a blind spot against those same opponents.

While I already had a visored helmet, it was a profound relief to not have to rely on the visor to protect my eyes.

A balding man attempted to grasp at the gap in the parapet to pull himself up onto the wall while balancing on the too-low rung of the ladder.

I kicked him in the head and turned away. He had died instantly, an end to his suffering.

Three more Slaves scaled the wall at roughly the same time, two from newly braced ladders, and a third from a ladder a little further down the wall.

Suppressing a sigh, I firmed my grip on my machete and began moving toward them.

One Slave collapsed, another froze, and the third closed his eyes before jumping off the wall.

Hacking down the frozen Slave, I spared a moment to look down at the unconscious Slave on the ground. I ‘could’ seize control over him and give him the same choice as the others once he was awakened. Unfortunately for him, my mana was a relatively finite resource and the off chance that he would be worth the expenditure wasn’t worth the risk.

All the same, I decided to leave the Slave where he was. There was a chance that the soldiers would take him prisoner. It wouldn’t do him much good unless his master was slain as well, but that was unlikely.

A blunt blow rebounded off the back of my knee, alerting me to the presence of an enemy.

Turning around, I took a number of similarly ineffectual attacks against my legs before looking down at a half-starved teenager that was frantically batting at my legs with a crude club. Boy or girl, it was hard to tell with such poor nutrition.

I raised my machete.

The teenager opened his mouth to say something, but a stone crested the wall and caught him in the side of the head, felling him on the spot.

I lowered my machete and stared down at the blood pooling from the side of the teenager’s head.

“I could have saved you...” I muttered quietly, “I’m sorry...”

I hacked down a red-skinned Orc that came screaming at me from further down the wall, carving him from clavicle to navel. I would have cut the Orc fully in half if I was a little shorter and my angle of attack wasn’t as heavily angled.

The Orc tried to grab at my arm even as his lifeblood pumped out onto the wall.

Yanking my machete free, I backhanded it through the Orc’s head, dashing his brains out and killing him.

A small swarm of goblins came up the ladders next, but the soldiers had managed to retake this portion of the wall and engaged the Goblins so I didn’t have to.

Killing the Orcs had driven the nearby soldiers into a frenzy of violence as the passive effects of my Ability increased their combat potential. Combined with my Racial Synergies and their own professional skills, the soldiers up and down the wall managed to regain and maintain full control over the wall.

The silent siege engines had begun firing on the empire again, and the combined efforts of the archers and siege engines mowed down Slaves in droves.

Burning oil was poured down the ladders, burning flesh and wood in equal measure.

Unable to stop themselves, Slaves continued attempting to climb the burning ladders while their flesh melted off their bones.

I refused to look away, to try and ignore what was happening. I chose this, and if I wanted to protect my family, I had to accept the consequences.

*BrutBrut Broooo!!!*

A trumpeting horn call echoed over the battlefield from the direction of the distant enemy camp.

At first, nothing seemed to change. The Slaves were continuing to press in against the wall and attempt to climb the burning ladders, smothering the pools of burning oil beneath the bodies of the dead and dying.

A large column of beasts of burden began dragging siege engines out of the enemy camp and out onto the open field. Other beasts of burden drew carts of what I assumed were the siege engines' ammunition stores.

Initially outside of the range of the Asrusian siege engine emplacements, the weapon teams had recognised the threat the empire's siege engines posed and had changed targets. Killing a few dozen Slaves was nothing compared to the risk of the walls being breached or compromised.

Within minutes, the siege engines began exchanging blows. Fortunately, the Asrusians had a distinct height advantage that afforded them greater range. Unfortunately, the empire seemed to have no problems with replacing the siege engines that were damaged or destroyed while moving into position.

When the empire’s siege engines began their assault in earnest, the wall began to tremble.

To make things worse, a huge battering ram was headed for the first gate. Already occupied with taking out catapults and trebuchets, only the ballista mounted near the gate were able to redirect their fire towards the approaching battering ram.

Pushed onward by a hoard of slaves, it didn’t seem to matter how many were killed by the archers or siege engineers, more would immediately move to take their place.

Gnolls and strange ape-like monsters had begun scaling the walls directly, but the soldiers had no trouble knocking them off or cutting down any that came within weapon range. Some of them had even been killed by friendly fire from the empire’s siege engines and archers. All the same, they continued attempting to scale the wall.

Eighty-one...Eighty-two...

A part of my subconscious had been keeping count of the Slaves I had killed since climbing the wall, going so far as to somehow alter my Status to make it a prominent display in my upper peripheral vision. As much as I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help but keep a mental count.

“For my family...” I muttered over and over again, reminding myself that the Slaves’ deaths were not for my own pleasure or gratification.

I hacked down another terrified human Slave attempting to scramble onto the wall.

Eighty-three...

Boulders had begun arcing over the wall as the Asrusian siege engines were overwhelmed by their imperial counterparts, allowing the empire’s siege engines to creep forward and press their advantage.

One of the Asrusian defensive trebuchets had already been obliterated by a lucky shot that damaged a support strut just as the arm was drawn into motion, ripping and tearing itself apart in the process.

While the Asrusian siege teams could use the Quest system to secure a near-infinite supply of ammunition, replacing the damaged and destroyed siege engines themselves was another matter entirely. The more complex an item was, the more valuable the Quest determined it to be, and that value escalated disproportionately to rational expectations.

Because the base materials were drastically cheaper to transport with the Quest system, the military had completely scrapped the concept of stockpiling complete engines for use by the Quest system. Instead, they intended to use the Gateways to transport them from place to place as needed.

The battering ram had now reached the gate. However, the archers and ballista crews on the surrounding wall were determined to deny the empire the opportunity to use it. Hundreds of Slaves lay dead in piled heaps around the battering ram, and the crude wooden roof of the siege engine was set ablaze by burning arrows.

Even so, the Slaves kept coming, swarming towards the battering ram with near complete abandon.

Eighty-four...Eighty five...Eighty-six...

A soldier to my left was struck by a boulder and thrown off the wall.

Even with the Asrusian Faction’s death notifications disabled I was surprised to find that he had survived. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that while he might have preferred death, the soldier was indeed alive.

Cooper had caught the soldier in his mouth and Nila appeared to be doing her best to convince the Drake to spit him out. Unfortunately, the soldier appeared to slip and proceeded to slide down the Drake’s gullet.

Even more unfortunately, the soldier was regurgitated a few moments later. The unfortunate soldier now lay in a pool of bloody bile and partially digested body parts.

A team of soldiers on the ground rushed to help their comrade, but traversing the bloody bile was treacherous.

Eighty-seven...

I had crushed the Orc’s neck, spine and collarbone with my left hand without paying attention. I let his bulky body fall down amongst the others.

Bright flashes of light down the eastern side of the wall signalled the arrival of the Parole Officers. Having travelled through the reinforcement tunnels that served as the legitimate means of accessing the top of the wall, they had taken much longer to arrive than I had.

The low-level monsters in the enemy army would not be worth much Exp, and the retinue penalty would reduce that amount by half. However, the sheer number of the monsters would allow the parole Officers a prime opportunity to receive large volumes of Exp for very little personal effort. After all, the entire Asrusian army present on the wall was sharing Exp with every monster they killed.

While the parapets were showing signs of damage, the wall itself still felt solid as ever. Given the sheer thickness of the wall, I doubted the enemy siege engines would be able to do any meaningful damage if they battered it for the better part of a year. The enemy commander seemed to have come to a similar conclusion and the majority of their siege engines now targeted the general vicinity of the gate.

Then again, this change in targets might have been because all but two catapults on the wall had been destroyed or rendered inoperable. The siege engines on the next interior wall were still firing, but their range was not great enough to strike at the enemy siege engines.

The gate was far weaker than the wall, but it was by no means fragile. Even under the concentrated assault of dozens of catapults and trebuchets, the gate held firm. However, it would only be a matter of time before it was compromised and cast asunder.

Things only grew worse as the empire’s archers concentrated on suppressing the defenders of the gate. Between the boulders and arrows, there was almost no opportunity for the defenders to return fire at all.

Ninety-four...

With less friendly fire thinning their numbers, the number of Slaves assaulting the wall had increased dramatically. Better ladders made with banded iron were deployed against the wall, each of them allowing up to five Slaves to climb abreast at any stage of their climb. Worse still, armoured Slaves had begun to appear amidst the rabble. Almost exclusively composed of Orcs, the armoured Slaves moved together with purpose and coordination rather than the desperation and fear of the other Slaves.

However, just like every other Orc, the moment they caught sight of me, I would become their target.

The Orc heavy infantry was probably intended to tie up the defenders of the wall to prevent them from assisting those defending the gate. They were also very likely controlled by a much smaller group of Slavers. This was an opportunity I had been waiting for.

Targeting the heavily armoured Orcs already on the wall and those attempting to climb, I gathered my mana and activated my Class Ability.

The pain was minimal. Whoever had been controlling this first wave of heavy infantry had died almost immediately. Since they had taken the brunt of forty-seven challenges at once, their pain from my artefact had been multiplied by just as much. Even so, I had the impression that Slaver had been inexperienced and a comparatively low level.

Issuing the Orcs an order to lower their weapons and retreat down the wall to the parole Officers, I then divided them amongst the Thrall Herders. As much to allow the Parole Officers the ability to more actively defend themselves as remove the Orcs from the line of sight of the enemy.

If the empire had one group of elite slaves, I figured that it would only make sense that they would have another. So I waited and scanned the tide of Slaves for the enemy commander’s next play.

One hundred and six...

Sure enough, two more groups of heavily armoured Orcs were rapidly approaching the wall.

“IGNORE THE ARMOURED ONES!” I called out, hoping the archers would shift targets.

One hundred and ten.

I waited until the armoured Orcs had begun to climb before gathering my mana. As I expected, the pain was much worse this time and lasted much longer.

However, both Slavers ceded their control rather than fight me to the bitter end.

I gave the ninety-eight orcs the same orders as those that had come before and divided them amongst the Parole Officers.

With two survivors, the enemy commander would very likely be informed of what was going on. Worse, with how familiar the empire had to be with Enslavement, they would know exactly what was going on and take measures against further attempts at stealing their Slaves.

“Majesty!” A runner from the east came to an abrupt halt and snapped a salute while breathing heavily.

I turned to face the runner and rested my machete on my pauldron to shield my visor from any potential arrows that might arc over the wall.

“The, uh, Parole Officers?-” The runner seemed uncertain of himself, “-They have requested permission to involve themselves in the battle.”

I frowned and looked towards the far end of the wall.

“Parole Officer Gravis said to tell your Majesty that your Majesty’s expectations were correct,” the runner added with equal uncertainty, ducking behind his light shield as a stone arced past his head.

“Gravis...” I muttered, scanning through his Status information with practised ease. As I had observed earlier, he had been increasing in level, and as I had hoped, Gravis had obtained the Dominating Will Class Ability. It was the exact Same Class Ability I was using to steal Slaves from the imperials, and a quick check revealed that both the other Dominators had gained the ability as well.

While the Thrall Herders had not been so lucky, they had gained a useful Ability of their own, Herd Mentality. It pitted the collective will of their controlled Slaves against any that attempted to rebel, taking a portion of each Slave’s Willpower to form a gestalt proxy for maintaining obedience. The same Ability also functioned against anyone attempting to steal those same Slaves, making me glad that the empire’s Slavers didn’t seem to have that Ability.

“They may engage,” I told the runner while piecing together the framework for a unique quest.

Warlords Will. It was one of my defensive Class Abilities that forced enemies to contend with my Willpower before a targeted subordinate. If I understood the Ability correctly, it could be abused to our immediate benefit.

I began stiffly moving into a run, moving quickly towards the eastern tunnel at the end of the wall.

I could handle pain. However, I only had so much mana, and if I depleted my mana, I would fall into a coma until I recovered enough to regain consciousness. The Evolution Elixirs were a stop gap measure at best, and I was too highly evolved to recover much mana from them. But the Dominators weren't...

If I was right about Warlords Will, then the trio of Dominators could supply the mana, while I fought for control. The Dominators would inevitably succumb to mana exhaustion or inebriation, but there was the possibility of saving hundreds of lives. The Humans evolving and becoming more formidable would be an added bonus.

The wall was slick with blood, so I had to slow myself to avoid slipping and losing my balance.

The runner seemed used to it, diverting his route slightly every so often to make the best use of relatively clean sections of the wall.

I completed the quest before making it more than halfway and activated it right away. Similar to the existing Quest available to the rank and file, the Dominators would earn Exp and redemption points based on their contributions in acquiring Slaves. Unlike the other Quest, the Dominators would only have access to the Evolution Elixirs.

While I was tempted to give them mana stones, the potential for them growing addicted was not worth the risks.

Almost immediately after they had been issued the quest, I felt small picks of pain take root in my mind. Little more than a mild headache, I ignored it and continued towards the tunnel.

“DO NOT STRIKE THOSE WHO RAISE THEIR HANDS IN SURRENDER!” An authoritative voice boomed from the east.

Some of the soldiers I passed spared a moment to look at one another and shrug before returning to the slaughter.

The pain in my head was building, but it was still far beneath the limits I was used to bearing.

The far end of the wall was held not by soldiers, but by the armoured Orcs I had seized earlier. With cruel methodical efficiency, the Orcs hacked apart Slave after Slave as they attemtped to scale the wall. Only, they didn’t kill everyone. Every so often a man or woman would be assisted onto the wall and allowed to meekly pass through the ranks and Orcs and head through to the tunnel.

The Dominators were not acting as aggressively as I had anticipated, nor as much as I wanted.

I pushed past the Orcs and through to the tunnel.

The Parole Officers had been huddled in small groups and animatedly discussing something, but they all fell silent as they noticed my arrival.

“Push harder!” I growled dangerously, glaring at the trio of Dominators, “You don’t stop until you fall into a coma or they run out of Slaves!”

The three Dominators bowed stiffly and the pain in my head exploded.

“Apologies, Majesty,” Gravis stated apologetically, “We were attempting to understand how the Ability functions. We will do as you say.”

I grunted in affirmation before stomping back out onto the wall.

The ratio had shifted dramatically, but time would tell how many the Dominators could save.

Fesk and Ushu were waiting below, the later feasting on corpses of dead slaves the Orcs dumped over the side of the wall.

With the pain in my head gradually increasing further, I walked down the wall until I reached an intact rope and then slid myself down the inside of the wall.

Perhaps guessing at my intentions, Fesk coaxed Ushu away from the pile of corpses and met me halfway.

With only a small huff of annoyance, Ushu lowered himself so I could climb into the throne-like saddle at the base of his neck.

Fesk had already retreated to the platform behind and was tying off his harness.

As tempted as I was to find a hole to hide in and nurse my slowly intensifying headache, The Dominators needed my Warlords Will, and the rank and file soldiers could only benefit from Inspirational Presence so long as I remained visible.

So, for better or worse, I was tied to the immediate area until the current battle ended.

Ushu began wandering along the wall again to feast on the broken corpses. It wasn’t just the Orcs disposing of corpses, the Asrusians were doing it as well in order to keep the wall clear enough to continue fighting upon. Of course, they did not discard the bodies of their own dead in such a way. Instead, runners would carry the fallen from the wall and out through the tunnels on the eastern or western side. Of the wall.

Only the most grievously wounded were taken from the wall. The majority of injured soldiers would temporarily retreat to one of the towers to gorge themselves in order to heal through the Iron Gut Synergy. Once their wounds were sufficiently recovered, the soldiers would return to their original position or wherever their commanders directed.

Even with the Synergies to give them an edge, the Asrusians were taking significant casualties fighting off the unrelenting assault. As easy as the slaves assaulting the wall were to repel, the professional imperial soldiers firing arrows up onto the wall didn’t care about friendly fire and exacted a fatal toll on the Asrusian soldiers.

The catapults and trebuchets had taken a toll as well, but it was almost negligible in comparison.

I briefly wondered how Nadine and the other Surgeons were handling the more severely injured soldiers. At least with my continued presence here in general proximity to the battlefield, the soldiers would continue benefiting from my synergies.

I pulled a large strip of willow bark from an iron-plated pouch on my belt and stuffed it into my mouth. Chewing on the bark, I concentrated on taking slow even breaths.

The pain in my head had plateaued. Whether it was because the trio of Dominators had decided to err on the side of caution, or they had reached their own limits, it made little difference. Every second of pain I endured would be that many more people that wouldn’t have to die. That many more people I wouldn’t have to kill.

Defending Laine city was a necessity for ensuring my family’s safety. The people I had killed were an unfortunate part of that same cause.

“One hundred and ten people...” I muttered quietly, “One hundred and ten people so I could protect my family...” In stark contrast to the pain in my head, my body was completely unscathed. Not a single one of those one hundred and ten, desperate, terrified, and starving people had managed to so much as scratch me. I knew I should feel guilty, ashamed of my actions, of the lives I had taken, but I couldn’t. I felt nothing but the throbbing pain in my head, and a dull ache in my heart.

The dark storm clouds in the distance rumbled ominously.

Cooper reared up and hissed at the sky angrily before continuing to prowl along the length of the wall.

Ushu just huffed and shook his thick scaly neck before continuing to feed.

A booming crash from the direction of the gate pulled me from my melancholic musings and focused my attention on the cascade of tumbling boulders crashing through the now open gateway.

*BROOOOOOOOT*

A long deep horn call sounded from the other side of the wall and was met with excited and eager cheers.

Nila retreated Cooper back towards Ushu, “What do we do?!” She called out while angling Cooper so they would be prepared to retreat further or return to their previous position.

“We fight!” I called back without hesitation. The Asrusian soldiers on the ground would need time to retreat. Whether that was up the winding slope, or climbing up the wall, both would need time.

Ushu roared, spraying bloody spittle and small scraps of flesh over the path as he began shaking himself and clawing at the ground in anticipation of combat.

A ragged cry from thousands of voices rose up as the Slaves on the other side of the wall began charging towards the gate. They weren’t to know, but they were headed straight into a kill zone.

*****

Vlaad clenched tightly at the reins of his nervous mount. In his twenty years of service, this was the first time he had ever seen an adult Ironfur in such an agitated state. No matter how he coaxed his mount, the Ironfur refused to willingly approach the city.

Looking at the other skirmishers, Vlaad was both relieved and unsettled that everyone else seemed to be having the same problem.

“Fucking useless pile of gristle!” Captain Dimitriy cursed while driving his spurs into his Ironfur’s sides, “MOVE!”

Their superiors wanted to know why the next wall of the city had not yet been besieged and to investigate the veracity of the reports that claimed an armoured Ogre or small Giant had been seen atop the wall fighting for the Asrusian defenders.

While both Ogres and Giants were understandably quite terrifying, Vlaad didn’t know of an instance where Ironfurs would baulk from just being in their general vicinity.

“Damnit!” Captain Dimitriy cursed again before turning to address his subordinates, “We are going to have to fucking force them then. If your mount still refuses to obey, mark it for execution and take another from the stables.”

“Sir!” Vlaad and his twenty-four comrades shouted obediently. Dimitriy was a cruel son of a bitch and meant every word of what he had said. So as much as Vlaad loathed using the Command function of the Ironfur’s Collar, he didn’t have much choice.

The problem with using the collars Command function was rather simple and profoundly obvious to anyone whose life ever depended on the instincts of their mount in order to survive. Essentially, issuing Commands would narrow the scope of a mount’s obedience to the state of immediate pain avoidance over long-term thinking and survival. If a mount was ordered to attempt to jump over a chasm it objectively knew it couldn’t, it would still do so in order to avoid the pain inflicted by refusal. Mounts had a far better understanding of their own capabilities, so it was in a rider’s best interest to make the most of it.

With great reluctance, Vlaad mentally issued the Command for his Ironfur to obey its training. Testing the reins, he sighed when the Ironfur obediently, albeit reluctantly, moved forwards.

Unfortunately, four Ironfurs attempted to endure the pain rather than obey, and true to his word, Captain Dimitriy had them sent off for slaughter.

“Such a waste,” Igor muttered quietly, shaking his head while their comrades led away their mounts.

Vlaad nodded in agreement. The Ironfurs had a substantial investment in man-hours spent training them. To butcher them so frivolously was very likely to get their platoon in serious trouble later, especially if the siege was drawn out longer than anticipated.

The supply trains from the empire were constantly being harassed and waylaid by the Asrusian Rangers. Losing a few Ironfurs right now might not mean much, but they would significantly increase in value if the supply situation were to worsen and mobile screening forces were required to escort the supply caravans to the encampment.

With everyone now mounted on a compliant Ironfur, Dimitriy readied his shield and signalled for them to leave the camp.

Wearing plate and mail, and carrying his own thick shield, Vlaad knew that he had little to fear from the archers doggedly dug in on the city’s outer wall. Similarly, the siege engines had all been destroyed, so he would just need to be careful of the siege engines mounted on top of the next defensive wall. However, even those catapults would struggle to hit a moving target, so Vlaad would still be relatively safe.

All the same, the whimpering and fearful reluctance of the Ironfurs bothered him on a deeply primal level. If something was nasty enough to scare one and a half tons of fur, fangs, and claws, it made sense that Vlaad should be scared as well.

An Ironfur could kill a man with one swipe of one of its powerful forepaws, crushing half the bones in their body through standard-issue plate and mail. A small pack of Ironfurs could also rather easily kill an Ogre on foot without sustaining any lasting injuries themselves. So the fact that twenty-five Ironfurs were equally fearful of approaching the city gave Vlaad a number of serious concerns.

Unfortunately, were Vlaad to voice any of his concerns to his commanding officer, he knew that he would be labelled a coward and very likely be demoted and sentenced to menial duties. Dimitriy was petty like that.

Bringing the Ironfurs into an ambling run, they made good time traversing the field of corpses, pushing aside any of the latest waves of combat Slaves that were too slow or too stupid to have the sense to get out of the way.

As expected, the archers began targeting them the moment Vlaad and his comrades entered their effective range. Unfortunately for the archers, Vlaad’s plate and mail made easy work of their arrows, and his Ironfurs hide proved far too dense for the arrows to penetrate. This was one of the reasons the army favoured Ironfurs as mounts. While not the fastest, Ironfur's natural characteristics made them perfect killing machines as well as serviceable scouting mounts. Their relative lack of mobility or speed, when compared to other Beasts, was negligible compared to their relative abundance and suitability for deployment in just about any major campaign.

Closing in on the gate, Vlaad heard Petrov and Fyodor curse from somewhere behind him. Fearing they might have been shot, he adjusted his grip on the reins and looked back over his shoulder.

Both men appeared fine, but their mounts had come to an abrupt halt and were pawing at their heads while slowly attempting to back away.

“GET IN FORMATION!” Dimitriy cried angrily, “GET IN FORMATION NOW OR YOU WILL BE WHIPPED!”

Threats of whipping was Dimiriy’s go-to punishment when a mission was underway. The fact that he had a custom made minotaur hide whip looped through his belt was a testament to how much Dimitriy enjoyed backing up his threats.

Dimitriy was first to clear the ruined battering ram and pass through the gate, officially entering the city.

*WHUMP! Clang!*

Something hard hit the inside of the wall and gave off a muted metallic crashing sound.

Igor’s Ironfur skidded to a halt just as Igor was about to clear the gate, “OH F-”

*Crunch!*

A huge pair of reptilian jaws snapped down and tore Igor from his saddle. Only, Igor’s hands were still holding the reins, and a mess of bowels and intestines sitting atop Igor’s hips was still sitting on the saddle.

Before the Ironfur could retreat, A second set of jaws descended and clamped down on the Ironfur, effortlessly throwing it up into the air and out of sight before disappearing from view.

A wet crunching sound came from the other side of the gate.

The twenty one remaining Ironfurs made sounds of panic and pain as they began backing away.

“Fuck this!” Josef grunted shrilly, turning his Ironfur about and racing away back towards their camp.

Vlaad couldn’t agree more, mentally Commanding his mount to do the same.

As his Ironfur was hurriedly turning back towards their camp, Vlaad’s heart froze.

A pair of giant grey scaled reptiles were leaning down and passing through the gate, their jaws caked with blood and trailing human intestines.

Vlaad dug his heels into the sides of his Ironfur and cast away his shield in a panic. The primal part of his brain knew that he would only survive the coming danger if he could move faster or out manoeuvre his own comrades. A shield would impede that effort, so it had to go.

*Chunk*

Boris and his Ironfur were impaled by a javelin and tumbled a dozen feet end over end.

Looking over his shoulder, Vlaad’s heart froze.

The giant bipedal reptiles were not alone, they had riders. Worse still, the nearest rider was no less than the armoured Ogre they had been sent to investigate. And he was preparing to throw another javelin...