Kroq-Gar charged down the ridge faster than even Crusher.
Three and a half meters tall and weighing nearly two tons, he thundered down the slope at full speed.
The tremors from his footsteps came faster than galloping hooves.
Every time his feet struck the ground, they tore up great sprays of humus and shattered stone, leaving a gray-brown trail in his wake.
The edge of the rainforest rushed past on either side.
Shrubs shattered against his shoulders.
Fern fronds snapped beneath the sweep of his tail.
The scent of Chaos grew stronger.
So strong that he could taste it.
Rust.
The sickly sweetness of decay.
Burned hair.
And something else.
Something impossible to describe.
A crawling chill that made even his scales prickle.
A horn sounded from the walls.
It wasn’t made of bronze.
It was fashioned from some kind of bone, and its hoarse, twisted cry sounded like the death scream of some tortured creature.
Chaos Warriors flooded onto the battlements.
The barrel of the massive bronze cannon began to turn.
It aimed directly at the charging Kroq-Gar.
Kroq-Gar saw the green light gathering inside the muzzle.
He shifted sideways.
He didn’t stop.
At full sprint, he suddenly changed direction.
His right foot came down on a half-buried stone and shattered it beneath his weight.
His entire body lunged three meters to the left.
A stream of dark green fire erupted from the cannon.
It screamed past his right shoulder and struck a massive tree twenty paces behind him.
The tree didn’t burn.
It melted.
The trunk collapsed inward from the point of impact.
Bark and wood ran downward like molten wax.
Within three breaths, the entire tree had dissolved into a bubbling pool of green slime.
Kroq-Gar didn’t look back.
He had already reached the walls.
The main gate was iron.
It was covered in rust, but at least half a foot thick.
A Chaos Spawn crouched on either side of the gate.
The two masses of flesh, each more than four meters tall, began to rise.
Their bone-scythe limbs gleamed coldly through the morning mist.
Chaos archers opened fire from the walls.
Arrows clattered against Kroq-Gar’s scales.
They bounced away without leaving so much as a scratch.
But Kroq-Gar wasn’t heading for the gate.
He was heading for the wall.
The northern breach.
The two-meter-wide gap the scouts had discovered.
A wooden barricade blocked the opening.
Kroq-Gar charged straight at it.
He turned his body.
Then drove his shoulder into the barricade.
The barrier had been constructed from logs as thick as a man’s thigh, bound together with iron bands.
The moment Kroq-Gar’s shoulder struck it, the iron bands bent.
Then the logs split apart.
Shards of wood exploded outward like shrapnel.
The entire barricade burst open.
Jagged splinters scraped across Kroq-Gar’s scales, throwing off a trail of sparks.
He was through.
Beyond the breach lay an abandoned quarry.
Piles of broken stone.
Discarded winches.
Several overturned mining carts.
Three Chaos Warriors charged from behind the carts.
They wore full suits of iron armor.
Axes and swords were raised in their hands.
Dark red light burned behind the narrow slits of their helmets.
Kroq-Gar swung his spear.
The Hand of the Gods carved a white arc through the air.
The first Chaos Warrior was sliced diagonally in half, armor and flesh together.
Black blood sprayed across the broken stones.
It hissed and burned where it landed.
The second Chaos Warrior brought its axe down.
Kroq-Gar raised his left arm to block.
The axe blade struck the scales covering his forearm.
Sparks exploded.
Then the weapon flew away.
Not because Kroq-Gar had deflected it.
The axe blade had chipped on impact.
The shock ripped the weapon from the Chaos Warrior’s hands.
The creature stared down at its empty palms.
By then, Kroq-Gar’s spear had already punched through its chest.
He lifted the corpse on the spearhead.
Then hurled it into the third warrior.
Two armored bodies collided.
The sound of breaking bones was muffled inside their iron shells, like stones being thrown into a metal barrel.
Three enemies dead.
Kroq-Gar didn’t slow down.
He charged along the inner side of the wall toward the main gate.
The passage was narrow.
Less than five paces wide.
The inner wall rose on one side.
The rear walls of barracks and armories stood on the other.
Chaos cultists filled the passage.
Some carried weapons.
Some were barehanded.
Some still resembled humans.
Others had been twisted so completely that nothing human remained.
The moment they saw Kroq-Gar, their reactions varied.
Some screamed and charged.
Some turned and fled.
Others simply froze.
Their mouths hung open as incoherent muttering spilled from their throats.
Kroq-Gar treated them all the same.
His spear pierced the throats of those who charged.
His tail shattered the spines of those who fled.
His claws crushed the skulls of those who froze.
He advanced through the passage.
Every footstep left a bloody print across the broken stone.
The blood of the Chaos cultists was black.
Thick.
Viscous.
Like used engine oil seeping into the cracks between the stones.
Wherever the Hand of the Gods passed, black blood splashed across the walls.
Then the spear’s white radiance burned it into pale gray ash.
A group of Chaos Warriors charged from behind the barracks.
At least twenty.
They formed two ranks.
A rare display of discipline among the forces of Chaos.
The front rank raised shields.
The rear rank leveled spears over their shoulders.
Three horns protruded from its helmet.
Two curved from either side.
A third jutted straight from the center of its forehead.
A strip of bloody flesh still hung from the tip.
“For the Bloo…”
It managed three words.
Kroq-Gar’s tail swept across.
The spikes struck the Champion’s helmet.
Metal caved inward.
Two of the three horns snapped off.
The Champion staggered backward.
Black blood seeped through the gaps in its faceplate.
Somehow, it was still alive.
Kroq-Gar finished it with a thrust.
The spearhead entered through the shattered helmet and emerged from the back of its skull.
The remaining Chaos Warriors didn’t break.
The shield line advanced.
Spears stabbed through the gaps.
Kroq-Gar twisted aside.
The spearheads missed him.
Then he raised his right foot.
And kicked.
His foot struck the shield at the center of the formation.
The iron shield collapsed inward.
The warrior behind it flew backward, shield and all, smashing into three spearmen in the second rank.
A gap opened.
Kroq-Gar charged through it.
His left claw swept sideways.
Three Chaos Warriors had their breastplates ripped open at once.
Black blood drenched Kroq-Gar’s body.
At such close range, the full length of his spear was awkward to use.
So he changed tactics.
He used the iron spike at the butt of the spear.
One strike.
One kill.
The spike smashed through helmets like a hammer cracking walnuts.
Dull impacts echoed one after another.
Kroq-Gar shook the black blood from his weapon.
Then kept moving.
The Chaos archers on the battlements noticed the slaughter below.
They turned and began firing down into the passage.
They had the advantage of height.
Arrows descended at vicious angles.
Kroq-Gar bent down and grabbed the corpse of a fallen Chaos Warrior.
He lifted it over his head with one hand.
A shield.
Arrows buried themselves in the corpse with dull thuds.
Kroq-Gar continued forward for another twenty paces.
Then he hurled the body upward.
The corpse spun through the air.
It smashed into two archers on the battlements.
Both were knocked over the edge.
They landed beside Kroq-Gar.
He stepped over them.
And continued his charge.
Then the cannon emplacement appeared ahead.
The massive bronze cannon rested on a stone platform along the inner wall.
Its barrel was thicker than two Cold Ones standing side by side.
Dark green smoke still curled from the muzzle.
Four Chaos artillerymen were frantically preparing the next shot.
Their ammunition was an iron sphere covered in Chaos runes, chained beside the gun carriage.
They saw Kroq-Gar emerge from around the corner.
All four screamed.
Kroq-Gar gave them no time to finish loading.
He crossed the distance in a single stride.
His left hand closed around the scorching cannon barrel.
White smoke rose from his scales.
He didn’t let go.
With one arm, he forced the barrel upward, turning it away from the battlefield outside the walls.
His spear pierced the chest of the nearest artilleryman.
His tail swept the second from its feet.
The third tried to ignite the remaining powder.
Kroq-Gar slapped it into the stone platform.
Cracks spread through the stone.
The artilleryman became a flattened ruin.
The last turned to flee.
Kroq-Gar caught its skull from behind.
His fingers closed.
Crack.
He released the corpse.
Then looked down at the cannon.
Bronze.
Chaos runes.
A trace of dark green energy still smoldered within the barrel.
Kroq-Gar touched the spearhead to the cannon.
Then stopped.
No.
The Old Ones’ weapon could cut through bronze like soft clay.
But if he pierced the cannon now, whatever corrupt energy remained inside might explode and damage the wall.
He had no intention of destroying it.
Once the city was captured, they could scrape away the Chaos runes and replace them with the symbol of Sotek.
Perhaps one day, this very cannon could be turned against Chaos reinforcements.
At the same time, Crusher reached the main gate.
The half-foot-thick iron doors lasted less than ten seconds against the Stegadon’s horns.
The first impact shattered three hinges.
The second split the gate down the middle.
The third tore the entire gate, frame and all, from the wall.
It crashed onto the Chaos defenders packed inside the gatehouse.
Crusher charged over shattered iron and mangled bodies.
Black scraps of cloth and twisted pieces of metal hung from its three enormous horns.
The Blessed Saurus Warriors followed.
Their pale golden scales gleamed through the black smoke as they poured into the plaza beyond the gate.
The Chaos defenders were already in disarray.
They had originally formed ranks facing the gate, prepared to meet a frontal assault.
But now their formation had been torn apart.
Crusher smashed through their flank from within the gate.
At the same time, the Blessed Saurus Warriors who had cleared the inner wall descended upon their exposed side.
The Chaos shield wall hadn’t even finished turning when Crusher hit it.
The formation collapsed like a house of cards.
Dozens of Chaos Warriors were hurled into the air.
The Blessed Saurus Warriors surged out from behind the Stegadon.
Spears punched through gaps in corrupted armor.
Their faintly golden scales flashed with every thrust.
The Saurus Spearmen followed through the shattered gate.
While waiting outside, they had seen only glimpses of the battle.
Chaos archers on the walls had been pinned down by relentless volleys from the Skink Javelins.
Arrows and javelins crossed through the air.
Chaos archers repeatedly toppled from the battlements.
But by the time the Saurus Spearmen marched over the shattered iron gate and entered the plaza, the enemy’s main defensive line no longer existed. This story is hosted at g.com.
Only scattered remnants remained.
Some were crushed beneath Crusher’s feet.
Others were pinned to the ground by the spears of the Blessed Saurus Warriors.
Outside the walls, the Skink Javelins spread across both flanks.
They had no need to storm the city.
Their orders were simple.
Suppress the enemy’s ranged forces.
The Skinks were thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Volley after volley of javelins sailed toward the battlements.
Any Chaos archer foolish enough to expose itself was nailed to the wooden walls of the watchtowers.
One lesser Chaos Champion tried to organize a counterattack from inside a tower.
Three javelins flew through the opening at the same time.
They pinned it to the rear wall.
Meanwhile, Kroq-Gar’s purge of the inner defenses was nearly complete.
From the cannon emplacement, he continued south.
He followed the inner wall all the way toward the southern gate.
Every Chaos Warrior, cultist, and Chaos Spawn he encountered along the way was slaughtered.
The last serious resistance on the walls gathered inside a watchtower.
More than a dozen Chaos archers barricaded themselves at the top of the stairs.
They used shields and spears to hold the narrow passage.
Kroq-Gar had no interest in fighting them on the staircase.
He walked outside.
Stopped at the base of the tower.
Then placed both hands against its stone foundation.
And heaved.
The stone shifted.
He heaved again.
The entire tower began to lean.
The Chaos archers above screamed.
On the third attempt, the watchtower collapsed.
Stone and bodies crashed into the open ground inside the wall.
Dust and black blood exploded outward.
The black smoke above the city began to thin.
The smoke pouring from the black pyramid at the city’s center was fading as well.
The city was dying.
The power of Chaos was receding.
Its servants were being exterminated.
Near the southern gate, the last group of Chaos Warriors continued to resist.
Roughly fifty remained.
With their backs against the wall, they formed a semicircle of shields.
Three layers of bodies already surrounded them.
They were remnants of the enemy army, driven against the wall and compressed there by Crusher and the advancing Saurus Spearmen.
By the time Kroq-Gar arrived, the Blessed Saurus Warriors had already punched a gap into the formation.
But the Chaos Warriors fought desperately to maintain their shield wall.
For the moment, the battle had reached a stalemate.
Then Kroq-Gar approached.
The three-and-a-half-meter-tall Lizardman lord appeared before the semicircular formation.
He looked down at them.
Then he began to kill.
A spear thrust.
A sweep of his tail.
A slash of his claws.
Every attack brought down another Chaos Warrior.
The shield formation collapsed from the center.
Then the left.
Then the right.
The Saurus Warriors advanced behind their lord, widening the breach.
Spears thrust past the flanks of the Blessed Saurus Warriors.
The last shield wall shattered.
Black blood soaked the ground beneath the city walls.
It seeped into the cracks between the stones.
Then the lingering white radiance of the Hand of the Gods slowly burned it away.
Kroq-Gar stood in the middle of the corpses.
He planted the butt of his spear against the ground.
Then looked around.
Some of the eight-pointed-star banners had been torn apart by javelins.
Others had disappeared beneath the rubble of collapsed watchtowers.
Not a single one remained standing.
No more black smoke rose from the pyramid at the city’s center.
Fine cracks were spreading across its dark stone walls.
Pure white light seeped through them.
Kroq-Gar looked down at his hands.
Black blood covered his scales.
But it was already evaporating.
The white radiance of the Hand of the Gods burned away everything unclean.
He flexed his fingers.
No stiffness.
No pain.
Even the lingering numbness from the arrows that had struck the back of his neck was gone.
In the distance, Crusher had collapsed in the middle of the plaza for a nap.
The Stegadon rumbled contentedly.
A short piece of Chaos Spawn tentacle still hung from the corner of its mouth.
Its thick hide was coated in black blood.
But it didn’t have a single wound.
During the assault on the gate, an arrow had struck it directly between the eyes.
It had left a small white mark.
The scales beneath were completely unharmed.
The Blessed Saurus Warriors were clearing the remaining enemies from the plaza.
Their golden scales were covered in black blood.
Chunks of flesh clung to their spears.
One warrior had twisted an ankle after stepping into a pit dug beneath the broken stone.
It sat on the ground while another warrior bound the injury.
Several shields had been damaged by enemy weapons and were already being replaced.
The two cohorts of Saurus Spearmen began searching the buildings on the southern side of the plaza.
Two had bloody wounds across their backs from surprise attacks by Chaos Warriors.
Each had lost a scale, but the injuries were shallow.
Another two had cuts on their arms from wooden spikes that snapped backward while they were tearing down the remaining barricades.
Meanwhile, the Skink Javelins had already climbed onto the walls.
They were collecting the Chaos archers’ ammunition while chattering excitedly about who had scored the most accurate throws.
One particularly enthusiastic Skink had thrown so many javelins that several had become lodged deep inside the wooden wall of a watchtower.
It was now crouched there, using its claws to pry them free one by one.
Kroq-Gar walked to the center of the plaza.
He wiped the evaporating black blood from his jaw.
“Clear the battlefield.”
“Burn every Chaos-corrupted corpse.”
“Destroy every eight-pointed star.”
“Search the pyramid thoroughly.”
“If there are underground chambers where Chaos sorcerers were hiding, seal them.”
He paused.
“And one more thing.”
“Don’t touch that cannon.”
“Scrape the runes from its surface.”
“We’ll study it first.”
“Once we understand how it works, we’ll put it back together.”
The army immediately set to work.
The Blessed Saurus Warriors and Saurus Spearmen began carrying away the bodies.
The Skinks gathered fresh bundles of javelins, some still clutching the bent weapons they hadn’t managed to pull free.
The sounds of scales scraping against stone mixed with the sharp hisses of commands echoing through the captured city.
Above it all, the final wisp of black smoke drifted away from the battlements.
The morning wind carried it into nothingness.
And for the first time in longer than anyone could remember, sunlight fell upon the stone walls of the great city once claimed by Chaos.