Bulwark

After only a couple more months of training, the crack in the sky had expanded to its apex point. If it became any larger, it would fill half of the sky. This portal was on the southwest side of Warwick. The small town was the only buffer between the portal and Birmingham, which hosted the Bull Ring market, a very important trade route. If Warwick was to fall, the economic strength of England as a whole was sure to take a massive hit.

Although the Anglos of Warwick had previously defended many invasions, these were hundreds of years ago (like the attack from the Romans) and all involved pushes from the sea. This threat was quite different. When these enemies arrived, they would start immediately on the outskirts of Warwick. In addition, they would also have diseases coming from the crack on their side and superior movement abilities. Because of reported use of magic, many were afraid that the crack was signaling an invasion of demons from the underworld. While this wasn’t quite accurate, it would be closer in ferocity than the doubters would imagine.

Time slipped away as the crack grew to a critical mass. The soldiers now understood what they were up against and had run drills and practiced collective movement ad nauseam for the past fortnight. They felt confident, like a well-oiled machine that was specifically designed to stop anything and everything coming from that portal. Although they lacked accuracy that rifling would provide (the importance of which was currently unknown), large cannons were stationed at several intervals at the top of the castle walls with semi-circle tracks and a vertical aiming mechanism of sorts. With them came two varieties of projectiles: singular slugs and grapeshot canisters.

Although preparations were mostly complete during this time, most were not ready when the crack in the sky grew in size again. Although it didn’t start in the sun’s path, the size of the crack now partially eclipsed it as it was setting. As it grew, the loud crashing noise took a deeper turn, letting out a prolonged rumble. Although most were unfamiliar with large earthquakes or volcanic eruptions, travelers who were quickly drew comparisons. Terrified, the soldiers scrambled to their positions like they did every time it grew. This time, it was the last time. The crack in the sky revealed a swirling celestial shitstorm beyond imagination.

The first cybernetic super soldier was propelled out of the portal at a shocking speed and collided with the earth completely unshaken. Immediately, two cannons were pointed directly at the soldier. Each blast sent grapeshot which damaged some of her exoskeleton. She stood up, clad in red, white, and blue. When she pulled out what appeared to be a staff, the soldiers manning one of the cannons ran. A powerful grenade was launched out the top which destroyed the cannon and ignited the powder, scattering all of the slugs and grapeshot into Warwick. Several homes were damaged and a few of the scrambling civilians were killed.

The first soldier was followed by several others. Smaller, weaker soldiers dropped in with parachutes and powerful rifles. The cavalry arrived with archers on horseback. After the archers dropped off and started picking off the regular troops, the cavalry rushed the “wizard”. She tossed another grenade in the air, catching it in her staff. Instead of lobbing it like a mortar, this time she pointed it directly at some of the horsemen and they were immediately reduced to mist.

“Are you seeing this, Peter?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s like explosive magic.”

“I don’t think that’s magic. That wizard is shooting actual bombs from its staff.”

One of the bombardiers loaded a full bolt into the cannon. While the accuracy of this move was risky at best, the grapeshot didn’t seem to be doing enough. With great luck, the bolt soared through the air at an unseeable speed and pierced straight through the center of the exoskeleton. The outside of it shattered, revealing a dead blonde woman with a hole ripped through her torso. The infantry, the cavalry, and the bombardiers were all shocked to see a woman on the battlefield, but when more exoskeletons dropped from the portal they knew they would have to refocus. With the exoskeletons dropped monowheels, vehicles with only one large wheel at the bottom and an operator at the top. The operators of them started to chase after the cavalry units and their terrified horses while the “wizards” started firing on the archers.

Several ordinary infantry soldiers charged to the gates of the town with their seemingly magical rifles. As soon as they entered the gates, they were met with Bertrand and James’s crew of soldiers. Surprisingly, the rifles were not shooting ordinary projectiles. These were SCOP-R4000s, the company SCOP’s newest rifle model which shot a portal that could sever anything. It accomplished this goal by teleporting matter on either side by an imperceptible distance away from the center. One of James’s soldiers was shot with this rifle, and his head separated from his neck with the cleanest cut physically possible. Another soldier attempted to block the shot with his shield and his left arm was removed at the middle of the forearm with an impossibly clean slice. Blood erupted from the wound as he fell to the ground screaming. Although they were standard-issue, the rifles packed some serious firepower- enough to cut through up to a full meter of any material.

Suddenly war wasn’t an exciting opportunity to move up in the world or to be respected. Rather, it reduced everyone to the level of animals clawing for survival. The small unit of riflemen was dispatched, albeit with a great number of casualties. The riflemen had taken at least three soldiers per man.

“This is really bad, James. What are we going to do?”

“It’s for the best that we don’t take on those soldiers from far away. We should find ways to push up on them or take cover to avoid their shots.”

“With them being in the field, there’s no way that we could close the gap. Are you saying we should hide?”

“Yes. Against those things at a distance, there is no hope.”

But just then, something caught their eye.

A lucky arrow.

One lucky arrow was all it took to remove one of the exoskeleton troops from the battlefield. The arrow, placed perfectly in the middle of the soldier’s bandolier of grenades hit one’s pin, igniting a grenade. This set off a chain reaction of every grenade on the bandolier. In the end, there wasn’t even mist, there was only a burned spot on the ground.

James had to do a double take- no, a triple take. What just happened? He wasn’t the only one that noticed. The archers celebrated, the riflemens’ eyes widened, and the cavalry unit got some ideas.

---

Although he was involved in training the new infantry units, Clyde had been transferred to cavalry after he recovered from his injuries on the battlefield all those years ago. Infantry was always his passion; the ability to train new cadets and turn greenhorns into useful soldiers was his calling in life. However, his unit wasn’t quite as passionate about him. When he took an arrow to the shoulder, many of them celebrated. He decided to let Sturgeon lead while he recovered because Sturgeon was one of the few who weren’t celebrating the turn of events. For more than twenty years after that, Clyde trained his hardest to become the greatest jouster in the land to prove that he could do it, that he was useful. However, of all of the greatest jousters in history, Clyde was a little bit unique. What he had was not just deadly precision and godly positioning, but also his trademark penchant for showmanship.

---

Clyde had an idea. No, he was given one. When he saw that explosion, he knew that his entire life led up to this one moment- to joust his way to explosive victory.

“Men, we have a new plan! It is time to joust or it is time to die! Watch, then follow!”

The entire cavalry unit stared in awe as Clyde charged at one of the warriors with the exoskeleton suits. The invader tossed one of its grenades in the air and caught it in its “staff”. It aimed at Clyde, but narrowly missed due to recoil. Clyde grabbed his halberd and aimed it up at the bandolier of grenades. He kept riding as the super soldier exploded behind him and he charged at another. The second exoskeleton warrior tossed a grenade in the air and caught it in its staff. As Clyde was about to reach it, it jumped. The jump was several stories higher than anyone would have expected. While the “wizard” was hundreds of feet in the air, it shot straight down.

The grenade landed next to Clyde’s horse. Although the horse perished instantly, Clyde was very much alive as he was launched into the air. While airborne, everything seemed to slow down. He looked at the black spot where the last “wizard” had perished. He looked at his men. A single tear left his eye. He did it. Even if for a moment, he was useful and respected by his peers for it.

The first time he hit the ground, he almost didn’t feel it. He certainly didn’t realize how fast it was happening. It was as if he was being carried by a large wave and slammed against a rocky shoreline. His shoulder was forced behind him and his humerus snapped. Bouncing off of the ground was a surreal experience. He didn’t experience pain yet, but he felt each individual blade of grass. Clyde couldn’t control his muscles, but he couldn’t control his mind either, so he was forced to stoically accept his circumstances. Any amount of mental effort could not send him into a state of alarm. The second bounce was a little rougher. Clyde’s hip fractured and became detached from his spine. Some of the bone pierced through his skin. The third bounce was the cause of his death. He landed on his head in a way that snapped the cervical spine, completely cutting his body off from his brain. However, he was still conscious just long enough for the final impact, the one against the castle wall.

“What a hero!”

“Let’s follow his lead, charge!”

Oddly, his death was moving, no, inspiring to the cavalry unit. They charged in unison at the exoskeleton warriors. While the cavalry soldiers weren’t as proficient at jousting as Clyde, they did what they could. Instead of pulling the cords, many attacked the grenades themselves, and ended up vaporizing in the explosion with the warriors. It was as if they saw some sort of honor in the self-sacrifice of their actions. The “wizards” reacted by becoming more mobile. Pushing the hydraulics of their exoskeleton suits to their limits, they would jump out of the path of the Cavalry units and lob grenades without even using their staffs. The idea of pretending to use magic to get a psychological advantage had quickly been abandoned.

At this point, James, Bertrand, and a few fellow soldiers climbed up on top of the wall with some SCOP-R4000 rifles and took turns shooting at the monowheels. Each shot removed another chunk from one of them. One monowheel turned and began approaching the town. Fortunately, the cannon was reloaded and the monowheel was a giant target. It was like hitting the broad side of a barn, and just as effective. The metal structure gyroscopically supported on top of the giant, wide wheel caved in and swung back, slamming into the ground. Archers continued to pick off the riflemen, many of which began to charge the gates. Peter suggested closing them, but then a “wizard” jumped over the entire town and began approaching from the other side. A fire was lit at the top to symbolize its approach. Multiple cannons were shot, but no bolt connected.

Some of the remaining cavalry took the opportunity to ride through the town and meet this adversary. Before they could make it, however, the warrior tossed a grenade in the air and caught it in its staff. This was the gate that Angus and Peter’s troops were closest to. One of their soldiers was vaporized and several were dismembered. Among those was Peter, whose body was separated from both his legs. He laid on the ground, bleeding out.

“Peter! P-Peter! Talk to me!”

“Hey Angus.”

It was difficult for Peter to hear Angus’s desperate calls. Everything was a little bit fuzzy. Without any prompting, he decided that he was dying, and that he needed to tell Angus the truth. With labored breath and speech, he continued.

“I want to tell you the truth about the- soldiers the day they were- recruiting.”

His words were interrupted by coughing up blood.

“The truth is- I wanted you and James and Bertrand to come for me for help, not the other way around. I wanted you- I wanted you to be on the front lines so you could depend on me- depend on me like my servants. I know it’s selfish. I know this death- this death is pitiful.”

“Hang in there, Peter, you’re going to make it!”

“Don’t bullshit me! I know I don’t have long, the blood is draining from both ends of me now. I’m sorry that I was selfish. That I wanted to lock you out of this position. I’m sorry- I’m sorry that I wasn’t useful on the battlefield. Don’t forgive me and don’t try to save me. Instead, show those inbred demons what we can do.”

After this, Peter was alive but unresponsive. Angus shed some tears, but knew he didn’t have any time to waste. He stood up with his short sword and buckler shield and prepared to strike when the exoskeleton warrior reached the town. It was getting quite close to the gate. If it entered unopposed, it could target civilians and destroy vital buildings. The warrior entered the gates, and Angus quickly noticed that it was significantly taller than him. Standing at nine and a half English feet, this was a true juggernaut. The legs extended significantly lower than the operator’s, with hydraulic-electromagnetic tubes allowing it to move faster and jump higher. On its back was something that looked similar to a backpack, but instead of a bag there were batteries and a gigantic capacitor, which stored energy to release at once in the staff, the arms, or the legs. It approached Angus and attacked.

First, it threw a punch. The fist extended beyond normal punching range using electromagnetic technology like what would be in a railgun. Luckily, Angus sidestepped this attack and it punched through the stone wall of someone’s home. Seeing a small piece of exposed leg, Angus went in to stab at it. The sword connected and the operator began to spray blood all over his sword. Their muffled screams were followed by flailing and backing up. Angus knew he couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste. It was far enough away from any buildings. With a precise strike, he pulled the pin of one of the grenades with his sword and backed up as quickly as he could. Although he blocked most of the explosion with his shield, he was tossed backwards into the wall of the house. As his consciousness faded, he saw hundreds of the "wizards" and thousands of the riflemen pouring out of the portal. The battle continued while he was out.