Crossing the limit

In the desert, the wicked were mostly armed skeletons with a thin layer of flesh all over their frame, sometimes wearing a piece or two of armor. The ones in the barren carried were more protected, but not by much, and had real muscles on their bodies. Rare were the ghouls with a lot of flesh, even so the ones that had a proper set of armor. Never have them seen wicked with little decay nor fiends fully covered in plate.

They disposed in a circular pattern around the exit. Sitting, resting, toying with their arms, mocking the fool humans that voyaged into hell on their own volition. Despair filled the human soldiers’ souls, giving way for the tears to come while dropping on their knees. Only one stood against the horde, Harriet.

“Rookie! How many?”, the girl shouted in anger

“Six-No, seventy...”

“They got armor?”

“All of them…”

“Breaches?”

“Most don’t have any…”, the boy replied with a trembling voice

“With me!”, she shouted with a firm tone, “You’ll be my eyes.”

“What?”

“Light got me. Barely can see the details.”

“Harriet…”

“We do or die”, said the girl as her head turned to the scout. She looked at her comrades at both sides and yelled as she struck the ground with the base of her polearm, “ON YOUR FEET! IT’S NOT OVER YET!”

Her brothers in arms persisted in stasis, untouched by her words. A fiend at the very end of their sight cackled louder, and soon the others followed suit, causing a deafening rumble. The ghoul moved past all the other wicked until it reached a rock, where it sat staring at the humans. It crossed his arms and quacked. Of all the wicked in sight, that was the one with most flesh of the bunch and better armor, the only wearing a plumed helm - certainly the commander. It fiercely glared at Harriet’s face for the time being. Her expression remained impervious, refusing to bend over the terror that lied in their disadvantage. The commander came to quietude as a broad smirk took its face. It uncrossed its arms and leaned its right forearm upwards, gently dropping its hand towards the girl, signaling one of the ghouls to welcome her where she stood.

“Describe it”, asked Harriet.

“Medium height. Fully armored. Bears a sword, no shield.”

“Long?”

“Average. Can’t match your reach”, the boy replied, “Don’t see any openings…"

“Neck?”, she asked, dropping her carrier as she assumed combat stance

“Thick flesh on the right.”

“Backup?”

“No sign”, replied the boy after gazing the surroundings

“Thanks, rookie.”

The ghoul reached Harriet’s effective range and slammed the ground with its sword before changing its posture. Both the fighters awaited for the first move. Harriet was pivoting her halberd towards the enemy weapon in a tame motion. Standstill ceased once the tip of her weapon reached the lowest point as the ghoul lunged forward, aiming for her front arm. She retreated in a single jump and directed the axe blade towards a lock, forcing their weapons into a bind. The girl advanced with full control over her opponent’s arm, raising it to the furthest point before breaking contact. Harriet followed the motion with a stab at the middle of her opponent’s torso, pushing it out of balance. Before the ghoul could regain stability, the girl’s blade had met its neck.

Harriet swept the sweat of her forehead with the back of her hand and proceeded to search for her trophy. Once she found it, the girl extended her weapon towards the severed head and raised the shaft backwards. In a full swing, she launched her opponent’s skull towards the enemy commander, landing it by its feet. The enemy leader grabbed the cranium and stared at it for a brief moment, just to throw it over another ghoul and turn to cackle once more. The ghoul that received the skull stepped forward, a polearm wielder bearing a glaive.

“Ruuuuuude! You don’t give away your presents”, Exclaimed Harriet. She twisted her head towards the scout and asked in a low tone, “Next?”

“Glaive. As long as yours. No armor around the collar bone. Left arm unprotected. Just bone.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. I got them a gift and the ungrateful bastard fixed me a mirror match… “

The ghoul approached its companion’s body and grabbed its leg, then it dragged the lifeless body out of their arena, placing the head on top of its former body’s back. It then walked to the very spot where its companion fell and entered combat stance.

Harriet expected her new opponent to be stronger but not by much. She knew these duels were just a form of entertainment, the real question was knowing how far they would go before it ended and what captivated them. She started the combat with a single thrust towards her opponent’s neck and followed with a lunge towards its exposed arm. The fiend blocked both attacks and chained four lunges in response, in an attempt to enter close quarter combat. Harriet redirected the attacks outwards, only failing to defend the last hit. Fatigue made her fail and the result was a cut in her left eyelids and cheek, debilitating her vision once again. She braced herself and pressed the attack, engaging in a long flurry of thrusts aimed at her opponent articulations. As her opponent was forced into defense, the girl stabbed the ghoul’s neck and snapped it out of its body in a lever motion. Two down.

At that point, she had most of her right sight restored and her fellow humans soldiers were no longer terrified. They’d been using the second fight to rest and prepare themselves for whatever had to come next.

Harriet grabbed the latest lifeless body by its legs and slowly dragged it next to her first opponent, later picking its head and placing it the same way as the ghoul did. The girl then stretched her upper body and placed her polearm on her shoulders and rested her wrists on top of it. There hasn’t been any reaction coming from the enemy commander during the duel. It only gestured its hand sideways to a pair of wicked and promptly they moved.

“Oi! That’s not fair. Anyone here can lend a hand?”, questioned Harriet as she gazed upon her fellow soldiers. She turned back to the commander and saw him pointing at the scout, “Ah! I see, my apologies ‘Captain Rot Bones’.”

Her new opponents were a duo composed of a large axe bearer as the lead and a tall pikeman in the support role. The axe wielder was geared in a same fashion as the humans troops, but covered in metal instead of ivory. Its attacks were erratic and it mainly swung its weapon aimlessly in an incessant cadence as it advanced. Meanwhile, the spearman was as geared as its leader and was positioned significantly further in the field. It pivoted Harriet’s sides while patiently waiting for a chance to land a decisive strike. Every time she tried to fight back she found a spear coming her way.

The girl got a gist of the axeman style and managed to break his offense. She followed for a stab at its head but was interrupted by a slash from the spearman delivered to her right arm, barely avoidable. She was willing to take the chance again by enduring a new hit to her arm but the second attempt yielded the same result.

“Hit the nose Harriet!”, shouted the scout

“I’m trying, dumbass!”, she yelled back, “It’s two on one!”

“One hand for each!”

“Guess I’ll have to pull a spectacle”, Harriet said after hearing the sound of footsteps erupting from within the chasm

On the third try she changed the approach. When the spearman charged for its trust she released her right hand and clasped the spear under her armpit, following by pushing the spearman towards the larger foe. With her left hand, she slain the tall fiend puncturing its skull on a precise stab. While the axeman slowly retreated, its kin took their weapons in hand and began to stand. They had indulged for too long. Human reinforcements arrived.

“BROTHERS!”, shouted Harriet with all of her vigor, “These cowards fought a debilitated and tired woman sure of their victory and yet three of them fell to her blade! Fear not as our goal lies within our reach! We will not be defeated!”

The first three partitions were now assembled, however, they were still a group made of the young, the visually impaired and the injured men. Their odds were set at three ghouls for every two humans, yet only a handful were capable of fighting heavily armored foes on even numbers. If they wanted to live, their best hope was to buy time until the next reinforcements and pray for them to not be accompanied by the unliving. The expanded vanguard shaped itself into an arc protecting the fissure exit, having each of the impaired behind them as they pointed their polearms at the exterior. Harriet tried to join the formation but she was immediately pushed out by her frontline comrades. She ought to rest.

A first wave of wicked attacked relentlessly, composed by the most armored ghouls in the vicinity. All of their attacks were blocked by shield or axes, and occasionally a spear from the backline. Whenever humans had a chance, the defenders would push the ghouls back for a brief offense, just to return into their previous position right away. This ebb and flow did nothing to the wicked as their plate resisted every single attack.

Harriet rested by a wall at the right side of the exit where she tended her wounds. The scout helped her move there once the soldiers expelled her from the battlefield. Pain had left the young man’s body along with his sensibility. The girl tilted her head towards the edge of the wall and the boy climbed it as fast as he could.

He gazed upon the barren, expecting to find the last groups within a quick glance. Wicked continued to jump inside the chasm within a three minute distance of the exit, they were few but enough to hold reinforcements. The boy turned his eyes back to the marshlands side and saw the enemy commander still sitting at the rock, resting its jaw on both hands. Its underlings were slowly marching towards the battlefield while pivoting away from the conflict in an uniform distance. He was struck with realization and hasted to his mentor without delay.

“Huge trouble.”, whispered the boy as he sat next to Harriet

“No shit!”, the girl exclaimed in response while patching her arm with some fabric tore from her mantle

“Keep it low. They’ll surround us. Soon.”

“Where’s our backup?”

“Won’t make it in time. We got to leave.”

“We can’t.”, the girl argued as she knotted the bandage

“They’ll kill us. All of us.” replied the boy with a downwards look, his voice vanishing as he clutched his pants.

“Rookie, think!”, Harriet said as she caught the boy head with both hands and stared at his eyes - If we retreat we’ll be cornered and if we flee they’ll either chase us or take the others.

“Yes…”

“So we’ll keep fighting… It’s all for nothing if we don’t cross. Niko surely will.”

This short exchange of words confirmed his worst fear, there was no way for them to make it alive. Now he had to find a way to reduce their losses and choose who he’d try to save. Hundreds of scenarios popped on his head, the two of them could escape - Harriet would never agree with it, they could go for an aggressive charge - the opponents had an overwhelming advantage, they could try to scatter for a chaotic escape - their allies didn’t have the stamina for it and their reinforcements would be left astray. None would do. None but one.

“I have an idea…”, reluctantly said the scout, as he mustered the strength to speak

“Yeah?”

“We’ll gamble”, the boy replied, approaching her ear to whisper his scheme.

“Bet your life on it?”, Harriet questioned in a timid laugh.”

“It’s our only option… I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be”, the girl replied without quivering, facing their allies as she stood.

The duo crept through the human defenders and explained the plan. For the next couple of seconds, humans tightened their defense, slowly closing the exposed back in their formation. The scout lied inside the group while he keenly observed the barren, waiting for the moment the wicked would appear. At his sign, the soldiers shoved their enemies away from the shortest path from the fissure to the marshlands. The soldiers at the front cleared the way in order for Harriet to leave. She charged towards the enemy leader without hesitation. Her exit distracted the ghouls within her radius, allowing her comrades to take a few of them on spot.

Harriet crossed the margin in a jiff, stopping right where water and land met. The enemy commander only observed from afar. It calmly grabbed its partisan and brandished it towards the frontier. A monumental smile dominated her face as she raised her leg and stepped on the wet. The ghoul left its throne.

Both warriors walked into combat range. Their duel started tight, neither of the warriors had an opening nor found a way to control the combat. The girl started the fight aiming for her opponent’s head and joints. Her opponent replied with heavy attacks directed at her front arm and torso. The two fought with grace and precision, every strike directed to the slightest opening, failing to hit through their opponent’s block, they were waltzing with their spears in hand and, as the death’s dance progressed, their faces distorted further beyond into broader smiles of exhilarating thrill.

The ghoul increased its rhythm, engaging in a a flurry of thrusts targeting the girl’s torso. Harriet had never fought on water and, combined with exhaustion and pain, it was too much for her to handle. In no time she lost her room to breath, opting for a slow retreat to land as the barrage continued. As they approached the margin, the girl stumbled and her opponent seized the opportunity to take her down. It delivered a violent thrust to her right shoulder, more than enough for her to lose grip, and grabbed her weapon in a single motion. Harriet was pulled towards the aggressor before receiving a kick in the stomach, being disarmed as she fell. The ghoul jumped on the girl and instantly pinned her to the ground. Three strikes came afterwards, all aimed at her heart.

The first blow hit like a boulder, stunning her as it cracked her chestplate.

The second blow was as violent, expanding the rift to its breaking point. She screamed as the energy of the impact traveled through her body.

The third blow crushed her body. Blood exploded out of her mouth at the moment her foe’s spear touched her armor. The plate crumbled to bits and the same happened to the front of her ribcage. She looked upwards in a vague attempt of checking the battlefield but soon turned back to face her executioner a last time, displaying a vast scarlet smile.

Her sight caught the amalgamation of flesh, bone and metal that was once a clash of armies. A pile of human bodies bathed in sweat and blood red as the dusk’s sky. The blind men had taken the defense lead once the vanguard was worn out, only to fall within the next minute. Once the last human warrior gave in, the wicked turned to indulge the remnants. They dropped their weapons and started to tear the humans asunder with their bare hands.

It was too late for Nikolai and the fourth partition. His men rapidly charged at the mess without any concern for safety. They dragged the distracted wicked out of the slaughter in a naive attempt to save their companions, only to restart the armed combat. Many of the wicked were taken by surprise but far from enough to even their numbers. Their leader ignored the ruckus and spurt towards the water where the enemy commander readied his fourth stab. The man stopped before leaving land and threw a javelin at the ghoul’s head, hitting right between his target’s eyes.

Nikolai looked back at the chasm and saw the ongoing carnage of the living and the dead. The amalgamation of men dragged what was left of their bodies as they tried to hold the ghouls that fought the fourth partition. Their arms, legs, bones and flesh, scattered through the end of the fissure, formed a stream of blood that extended to the brave girl that withstand most of the wicked. Nikolai walked towards the enemy commander as his prosthetic painted the ground red with the blood of his stump. It mixed with the blood of his men and all of it tainted the waters of the marshlands.

The Captain approached Harriet and searched for her halberd. He took the weapon and used the axe of her blade to separate the commander’s head from its body, and then removed his spear out of the skull delicately enough not to break it. The man took the disembodied piece in hand and entered the woods, his carrier began to shake, becoming more intense on each following step. With his free hand, the Tenant fetched the carrier and placed it by his feet. He raised his left hand to the skies as he looked upwards, taking a deep breath for a moment before unleashing a vigorous roar.

“AHRYMAH’N! I CALL UPON YOU!"