System Break

Chapter 134: A Thousand Cuts



A thousand cuts couldn't dim the pleasure I felt when Demon Bird soared through the skies and showed me the fields beneath. I sat with my back to a wall hiding from men and ferals alike. The ferals had broken through on several occasions and the men just pissed me off with their whining.

The captain had been killed and one of his sergeants was in charge, but this man failed to stand up to the mayor who was a terrible leader. The civilians fought hard and many died. Some took ferals with them, other died uselessly and yet others ran and hid in their homes. 

I was exhausted. My head rested on my shoulder in a corner near the lake. "Show me the lake," I asked Demon Bird and he swooped. I didn't need to watch the orks and I could rest. The bird would be my eyes and I'd sent Carney home to bed. She'd barely had any sleep for a couple of days.

The bird flew across the lake and up the river. "Where does this river go?" It wound its way east and I called him back. We didn't have time to follow it to its end. "Find Gisael, find Dark Bear." 

I shared a connection with Dark Bear but all I got was eagerness for a fight and annoyance with running all day. "Are we there yet." Was a common theme with his thinking.

The sun would soon set, and Demon Bird flew circled west in search of Gisael. He swooped over the enemy's camp and drooled over their corpses. There were bodies scattered across the walls all the way to their camp. The dead outnumbered the living.

Of the thousand or so ferals I estimated only a couple of hundred remained. And they were the smart cowards who managed not to die fighting on the ramparts or scaling the walls. 

The orks had managed to wear me out while they watched the battle from afar. I lost count of the number of ferals I killed but Carney did not disappoint. She scribbled in a ledger she got from somewhere.

I stood, stretched and all the little cuts came back to haunt me. My body was tough, but dozens of arrow wounds and hundreds of cuts wore me down. A swarm of insects could bring down a bear and that's how I felt.

With night falling and Demon Bird flying west I had to keep an eye on the orks. I walked the long way around the ramparts and greeted the worn out defenders with a nod or a wave. From the five hundred civilians who lived here less than a hundred remained on the walls. The rest were either exhausted, wounded, scared or dead. 

"Will they attack tonight?" a young man asked me.

"It's their last chance," I said. "We need to be ready for the worst." My words brought little comfort, but my confidence did. They missed their captain dearly but there was little I could do about it now.

One of the mayor's lackeys ran up to me. "Where have you been?"

I resisted the urge to throw him from the walls. "Fuck off," I said and the people near us heard my frustrated anger.

"He needs rest too," an old man said forcefully.

"Yeah, fuck off Shem," another said.

I stopped and sighed. "Listen. Tell the weasel of a mayor that he should stop with his schemes until the fort is safe. Until all the ferals and orks are dead - get out of my road or you will get run over."

He hesitated.

I pointed. "Now. Go. Tell him before I lose my temper with you and throw you from the walls."

He ran like a scared rabbit.

The hardened folk who remained grunted their approval. The mayor hid in his manor while I fought off the enemy. Their allegiance was well earned and clear.

I hid in the corner tower and watched the orks with my qi sight. Their own reconnaissance would have me pegged in the gate tower, but I wanted to be unpredictable. While their sight was good, their glowing eyes told me as much, mine was better. And while I was seven feet tall I was still able to blend in with the wooden walls and towers.

My skin was not only brown, it had a grain just like timber. I'd come a long way from the pinkish lump that I was half a year ago.

Last nights failed raid cost the orks six of their number. I'd killed three and the crossbows and fire killed three between them. It also made them hesitant. I wasn't sure what they planned but if they knew the state of our defences and that we had reinforcements coming they would attack now with everything they had.

Their cores began to move. I sighed. They moved in groups of ten fanning out. They knew I was alone and the fort's main defence. I imagined how this played out in their minds and planned my counterattack. 

They crept at what they thought a safe distance - some north and the others south while a single group of fourteen remained outside the west wall and main gate. Twenty were moving north while ten moved south and across my path. I was in the southwest tower.

They left the miserable ferals who were either mourning or cooking their dead. It was hard to tell.

In their ideal scenario I would defend one section and the other attacks would succeed and then they'd surround me. Cut off my retreat and support then wear me down and kill me. It's what I would do in their shoes. The best form of defence was attack.

I climbed down a dark section of wall and crept towards the southern force. There were ten ork cores and they wielded all types of weapons. Axes, swords, spears, and longbows. They may have been crude, but in the right hands effective.

I crept like a sneaky snake until we were separated by sixty feet. They were still heading into position and there was no sign to begin their attack.

I stood and charged at top speed. In the few seconds it took to close the gap I flooded my system with qi. Every muscle lathered with qi-speed and strength. Every bit of living wood in my body was lacquered with my qi. And of course my helmet which was a weapon, protection, and intimidation all in one was drenched in qi. Like a runner passing a drinks station I shoved a core into my mouth.

They saw me coming. Their senses were enhanced and although it was dark I was a seven foot monster charging them down. They grunted in surprise but that was all they had time for before I was amongst them.

"Time to die mother fuckers," I said, and I realised these bastards were uglier than ferals. That was quite a high bar. 

They had two tusks poking up from their lower jaw and over their top lips. Their skin looked like dark green toxic waste and their hair was a mess of dreadlocks and filth. Their stench reached my nostrils and I had to start breathing through my mouth. If any got away they would be dead easy to track by their scent alone.

They looked like oversized ferals, but they fought with the experience of pit fighters. They were indeed on the level of guardians and I faced ten of them.


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