((Book 1 is available here if this is your first time here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF
Book 2 is finished, so if you want to read ahead, here you go: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CBZR49Q7))
I give him some instructions; something simple that should help our side gain the upper hand in this ambush. Already, our side was faltering — the humans in the infantry were being pushed in, and the Efrans in the infantry found themselves flanked as a result, and the human archers had begun to flee. If I don't do something now. I see a few humans in the back tremble and shake, and beginning to break, I approach the closest one on the flank, slowly slipping away from the front and toward the back; his entire body covered in goose pimples and beads of sweat.
Morale was frail. Even I could tell that. What did people do to raise morale? Think, Lawrence. If this man retreats, I can already tell that it'd be like a hole punched in a dam. I can only think of one thing, ah dammit, I was never good at public speaking. I take a deep breath as I approach.
"Why are you afraid?" I ask him.
"I don't want to die." He says, "I..I-I have a family and —"
"We're all going to die." I tell him, "Eventually."
"I want to see my kids grow old, man. I want to hold my grandchildren in my arms!"
"And running now will accomplish that? No, it will grant you a few extra seconds of life."
I shove his shoulder, and he bumps into the man next to him — one that holds strong, and was stabbing with his spear through the ranks trying to push back.
"Seconds that you'll rob from him. If you falter, you will leave his side exposed and one of those monsters will fall onto him." I point through the ranks. An earthen spear erupts in the middle of the horde, impaling one of the Rabbits. My head throbs. "Is that what you want?" I speak loud enough so that all of the humans around me can hear me.
"No! I just want to —"
"To see your family? They will die too, and it'll be all your fault."
"What do you me—"
"If he dies, what happens to the man next to him? And the one next to him? And the one next to him? They all die. Is that what you want?"
"No, I just —"
I grab hold of his shoulder.
"Just want to see your family. I know. But your cowardice will kill them. This army? Where do you think it's going after this?"
"Where?"
"Out there. Onto the streets of Arville. Do you want your kids to face one of those?"
The man shakes his head. A Rabbit tries to attack us. I catch its spear in my palm and pull it out of its grasp before slamming an elbow into the creature's face. The blow dazes it, and I finish it off with a stab from my kris
"Then pick up your goddamn weapon and fight, damn you." I bend down and pick up his spear and slam it into his chest, "Fight for your family. Fight for your goddamn life. You don't want to die? No one wants to die! Do something about it!"
The man grits his teeth and pushes past the backlines toward the front to face the horde of large Rabbits.
"How many men back on earth can say they've gone through what you've gone through?" I ask the man as I strike down one of the Rabbits pushing the front. "How many men back on earth can claim to feel what you're feeling right now?"
A rabbit tries to stab me through the gut. My Repel blocks it, and I grab hold of its forearm, and pull the creature into a headbutt. The creature tries to pull back, but I run my sword through its neck. Its blood sprays all over the man who rejoins the front, shoulder to shoulder with my father.
"That blood pumping through your arms, that cold sweat on the back of your neck? The scent of your tormentor's blood staining the air? No one!"
I press further into the ranks of the Rabbits — cutting a bloody path toward the wall. With every swing of my sword, a limb falls off, or one of the creatures dies.
"Who else on earth can be as proud as you can be when you go back home to your families? To your friends? Who else on Earth can look down on you after this ordeal? Who can call you a coward?"
I push further in, and motion for my father to begin his own push. His spear finds purchase into the gullet of the Rabbit attacking the man next to him.
"No one! So fight! And Bleed! And gain scars you can brag to your wives and girlfriends about! Fight, god damn it."
With the Rabbit of the man next to my father dead, the man I had been talking to, my father, and the one who had just been freed up, push into the next, freeing up that man as well. I make sure that no others approach them as I delve deeper and deeper into the fray.
Like this, our left flank closes like a door swinging shut, and the front line of the assailing Rabbits soon finds itself pressed on two fronts, and with a final cheer of "FIGHT," the frontline collapses as the last Rabbit dies from a blow to its head.
Blood trickles down my face, and down my arms and soaks into my torn hoodie. My Repel had shattered at one point, and I didn't have the time to re-up it. My hand is mangled; one of the rabbits swung its blade toward my father, and I stopped it with my hand, ripped the sword from the creature's grasp, and bludgeoned it to death by swinging the pommel into its face like a war hammer.
"Take the injured to the shelter!" I call as they cheer in triumph, "And archers," I motion to the Efrans who had faired better than the humans, "Good job. You still have work to do, however."
They nod and pick up their bows. I smile at my father; who's face is smeared with the blood of those he had killed, and whose spear was now stained red. A small detachment of human infantry give chase after the fifteen or so Rabbits that chased the human archers into the city. I have already given them instructions to bring them back and to get ready for my order.
"Stay safe, Dad. I don't want to lose you."
"You too, Lawrence." We hug briefly as he looks over my wounds. "Do you have to go?"
"I do," I say. "We will get out of this, I promise."
I look down at the body and blood-strewn ground. It had been an overwhelming success of defense — the hundred some odd Rabbits that had initiated the attack, lay dead, and under them only about 10 from our side; 3 humans, and 7 Efrans. I feel responsible for each of them. I should have acted sooner. I slide my sword into its sheathe.