Steel and Mana

The eastern wind was stronger than ever before, cutting across the steppe, as if being pushed forward by the monsters heading towards Khulman. All the snow that was falling from the thick clouds was blowing sideways in thick sheets, kicked up by the gusts of wind, swirling like hundreds of miniature tornadoes. On the vast open plains of the Khulman Empire's borders towards the east, it was hard to find any natural obstacles to build a fortification on or in between. So... The previous Emperors came up with a simple idea: The Wall.

They called it by many names, of course. First, it was just the border. Then, as the Empire expanded and the wall was expanded, built to accommodate the new territory, it began growing. So, it became the Old Spine, then, as it was now claimed by dozens of Emperors since its inception, it became the Spine of Ancestors. But to most, it was simply the Wall.

It stretched across the current eastern and north-eastern part of the Empire like a grey and green, calloused skin. It had stood for six hundred years, one of the oldest buildings in a country where most people packed up their homes and moved on after a generation or two. It was carved from stone, reinforced with timber, and packed with thick earth. At most places, it was about ten meters high, but never lower than six meters. It was not a thing of elegance, thanks to the multiple expansions and rebuilds it received throughout the years. Yet, it was brutal, practical, and wide enough at the top for a dozen riders to gallop side by side as they traversed it. It was a thick marvel in itself.

And at a certain eastern spot, from where the Empire was expecting the monster tide to arrive, about a hundred thousand soldiers were spread out, here to defend their borders.

Most of them wore thick furs beneath their lamellar and scale armor, holding steel weapons, shields, and bows, dressed and equipped with the best the Empire could offer. There was a kind of mist above them, as in the cold, their breaths were steaming, while they constantly checked their weapons, loaded arrows into crossbows, and into the wall-mounted ballistae. Specialists were running back and forth as they inspected the siege engines they had, mainly in the range of massive lance and spear throwers. The spears themselves were the size of horses, along with towering racks of bone-bladed tips, fashioned from the monsters they killed before. Knowing that their enemies' own body was the best weapon against their kin, it wasn't only Avalon who began using them as weapons.

At every fifty or so meters, fires burned in sunken pits, not only to give some warmth but because animal fat, oils, and whatnot were being brewed, ready to throw onto those who reach the walls and make the monsters' effort of scaling it even harder. Of course, those pitfires that were burning behind the walls were different. They had large iron cauldrons above them, bubbling with stews made from goat meat, millet, and turnips. No warriors could fight on an empty stomach, after all. The sentries standing around them passed ladles around, filling small cups. At the same time, most of the warriors ate while standing, gripping the bowls in their gloved hands, ensuring they could throw everything down and return to their spots as quickly as possible when the enemy eventually arrived.

In the central tower, going about an additional ten meters into the air, stood the Khan himself, surrounded by his generals and commanders.

Today, he was the undefeated, Tula-Khan Rhanak, 99th Son of the God of War, wearing armor and the Gauntlets of War. He was here, and even if the monsters broke through, he would be the last to leave. On his body, there was the armor of dark lacquered iron over black leather, something that was in the possession of his bloodline for almost a millennium. It has seen countless battles... and it has survived to this day. It was said that it was probably blessed by the Gods. Around it, he wore a thick fur cloak, fastened with a brooch shaped like a pair of closed fists.

A moment later, Bakhi emerged from the stairwell behind him and joined his Khan in silence. He had just returned from beyond the horizon, so snow was still clinging to his beard, slowly beginning to melt, standing so close to the braziers burning up on the twoer.

"I think we were the last patrol to come back," he said, sighing, "No sightings yet, but nobody else returned. Not even their birds. We can safely say... they are dead, my Khan."

"So it seems..." He nodded but didn't look at him. He was gazing toward the horizon, as if trying to see into the distance to know how far the tide is... When will they arrive? "At least their sacrifice ensures they are going to hit our borders here... And they do not wander away."

"..." Bakhi opened his mouth to say something... but, in the end, he closed it back down and said nothing. After another moment of silence, the Khan continued.

"The wall is old... It had seen its fair share of battles. It will hold."

"It held against monsters in the past..." Bakhi nodded, "But at what price...?"

Rhanak didn't answer his question as he didn't need to. He just turned, stepping past Bakhi and motioning for one of the aides to approach. The youth came running with a small bronze scroll case, which the Khan took and unsealed to review the final tally of his troops.

"sixty thousand on foot." He read it out, feeling that Bakhi still had doubts in his heart, "Archers, spearmen, axe-bearers, coming from all the clans within the Empire. We have thirty thousand riders... We'll keep them behind the first ridge and use them to run down the monsters when they retreat."

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"Retreat..." Bakhi muttered.

"They always retreat." Rhanak hummed, "They come in waves... For now, we have ten thousand soldiers on the wall itself. I have already set up the rotation for them, so we will always have fresh arms at the front, pushing anything back down that climbs high enough! There are also another thirty thousand souls in reserve, being equipped as we speak, and will arrive in under a week. Do you still think it is not enough, my oldest scout?"

"My Khan," Bakhi looked him in the eye, speaking his honest feelings, "If they come like I expect them to come... it won't be enough. There is no longer a north or east to whittle down the tides that reach us... this time, we are facing the full force of the beasts. They will be hungry as they have already harvested every soul on the land... and they will be looking to consume us next."

The Khan nodded once, not getting angry or berating him. He respected honesty more than false confidence in the face of danger. The latter could lead to foolishness. But... Fear can also be a deadly danger. He was about to encourage Bakhi when, from behind them, horns blew once, deep and low, echoing far out on the steppe.

At once, the wall began to move as the soldiers reacted, dropping the bowls and whatever else they were holding that wasn't a weapon, and rushing to their designated spots.

In just a moment, all of the warriors took their positions, archers clustered in groups near arrow caches, their quivers full and prepared. The specialists were ready, manning the ballistae as smoke rose from many of the pits on the walls, where fires were stoked to start boiling the fat- and oil-filled vats.

"So it begins," Rhanak muttered, waving a hand, and another trumpet was blown.

Behind the wall, in line with the command tower, a group of shaman-priests stood barefoot on ice-covered stones, wrapped in layers of monster fur. They all looked old, some blind in one eye, their faces painted with a blue-gray ash, some missing all their teeth... Women or men, didn't matter, they stood there, ignoring the cold, concentrating, muttering while holding onto bone staffs with naturally formed runes, harvested from monsters and now decorated with CC. It was as if the wind rose when they began to chant, calling upon the power of the Gods, tapping into their domains... as per the Khulman belief went.

The Khan, in the meantime, closed the scroll and handed it back to the aide, and then he lifted his chin to the north.

"Tell them," he said to Bakhi, "All of them... They fight not for the land. Not even for the throne or me. They fight for the bloodline of our people! If we die, we will die standing atop the bones of our enemies! The chosen people of the God of War will not bow to mere beasts!"

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From the command deck, I sat in my chair, both hands gripping the armrests, my eyes narrowing on the distant flicker of movement across the horizon displayed on the Imaginary. I could make out the impressive wall they had built, reminding me of something from my previous life, but... it looked even grander here, I must admit.

"Imaginary, full zoom, get me the clearest view you can," I ordered, and the image shifted, sharpening and expanding.

Well, we were on time... Still, they did get some bad luck, with thousands of monsters coming and throwing themselves at the wall. At least, there weren't any flying bastards, so they were able to hold the line. Although I could see that a good number of corpses were already being piled up, easing the subsequent waves that came to try to get over their walls.

As for the beasts... Why are there always bugs? Damn. They weren't that big, reaching a human's full height at best, looking like demonic crabs with eight legs, covered in a black, glossy carapace. Brr. Their movements were insectile, too, twitching, scurrying in waves that disturbed the snow below them, blowing it up into the air. Occasionally, one would leap like a spring-loaded weapon, smashing into the base of the Wall in an attempt to climb up on it, sticking its sharp legs into the stone. It did not always work, and when they failed, they simply died from being shot down by arrows. Then... they became a foothold for the next.

Of course, they were not the only ones. There were other variants, still behind these bastards.

Those were also bigger, about... rhino-sized, four-legged... things. They had sledgehammer-shaped limbs and bone-bladed heads, covered in jagged plates of skeletal armor. When one or two began running, they trampled their own as they rammed the Wall with a loud, thudding impact, shaking the stones with every charge. The wall did buckle in places, but still held for the most part... but I guess, it wouldn't last for long.

Luckily, their ballistae were strong enough for their javelins to pierce even the armor of the monsters, slaying them before they could do irreversible damage. The actual issue was the things at the far back. Those were about the size of my mechs...

"Their mages are active," Sasha spoke up, standing beside me this time around. "I can sense the magic at work from here."

Strange... I also had a strange sensation... was that it? Or just me shivering because I hated bug-like variants? No matter... We were still pretty far away, so I guess the Khulmans didn't notice us yet. But we could see that every time a magical blast came from the backline of the monster horde, similar to the firing effects of our cannons, it was met with a counterwave from the magic on Rhanak's side, canceling it out either in an explosion or diverting it to fall onto the horde itself.

"They're barely holding," Oleg said quietly behind me, "If one of those big ones' spell gets through…"

"My Father could deal with it." Seltana interjected confidently, "He has the Gauntlets. I don't see him using it yet, so he must still be confident enough to win this in a regular manner."

"I see." I nodded, not trying to argue with her at all... Yet for every monster slain, ten more surged forward. So it didn't look good from here.

I studied the scene for a moment longer. The sky above was now full of smoke, as the melting and refreezing snow clung to both the living and the dead... It was a mess. The entire steppe looked like the mouth of some ancient beast, salivating. It was time to either bring more chaos to this war or just end it.

"All stations, battle alert," I said. "We are here to provide the help we promised. Yuri," I continued, opening the channel to the Princess hanging below my ship, "We will drop you in front of the wall. Go wild and deal with the boneheads. They must not break the wall."

"Don't worry, I will penetrate them so deep, they will learn to moan like a human," she chuckled, making me shake my head.

"Pion," I resumed.

"Ready and able." He answered, his group of fifty soldiers ready to deploy.

"You will be dropped where the wall's integrity is the lowest. Make sure the soldiers there won't get overwhelmed! When cleared and given enough breathing room, act on your own accord to provide assistance where it is most needed."

"Understood, My Sovereign."

"As for us," I glanced at Kustov, "Take us to the backline. It is time to rain down fire on the bastards."