Four men plummeted to the ground, darts protruding from their bodies. One struggled with a dart through his neck, gasping for small breaths as it embedded in his shoulders.
From the treetops above,
Babylonian troops descended, stabbing their pikes into unaware Measowians below, their bodies crashing into the earth.
Ambushed, Captain Reynolds, a leader forged in grit, swiftly drew two flintlocks and fired upon the Babylonians as they retrieved their spears from the fallen, rising quickly to rush the gunners.
Crackles emanated from the Measowians as they sent bolts of steel rounds through their adversaries, causing them to release grunts of pain as they fell.
The battle erupted as more
Babylonians mounted their steeds, charging into the Measowians descending from atop the rocky hill!
Captain Reynolds gathered himself, his hollered voice cutting through the chaos.
"Take them to hell! Every last one of them!"
But before he could finish, a horseman barreled toward him, impaling his neighboring men and sending one flying, blood spewing from his wounds.
Reynolds was shoved aside, tumbling to the ground.
As the charger made a menacing turn toward
Reynolds, he acted swiftly, pulling a grenade from his bandolier and hurling it toward the oncoming threat. Upon impact, the grenade exploded, tearing apart the renegade and his steed, the sound of the explosion drowned out by multiple gunfire.
Meanwhile, in a quiet part of the forest northeast from the fray, Babylonian reinforcements awaited in their encampments, some sleeping while others roamed to relieve themselves.
With stealth, a disguised figure approached a group of
scattered soldiers.
One of the soldiers was urinating, then he heard a snap from the woods swiftly turning just to see the head of a fawn peeking from the bushes.
Then, as the soldier turned around, his mouth was swiftly covered by a rag, and he was shanked profusely in the neck.
The rest of the group crept closer, keeping low and using natural cover to mask their approach.
As the sun attempted its zenith, turning the ever-dark blue into a faint ocean, their captain, Captain Davis, waved his hands, swooshing them forward. His men, seeing his gestures, nodded, passing his signal to strike, their faces resolute.
They checked their weapons one last time, and then multiple Measowians threw their grenades. One landed next to a sleeping Babylonian man who woke up from the grenade's thud next to him. Fully in shock, He tried to rise from the ground gasping rapidly as he tried to escape, until he was blown to bits. After the grenades exploded, the ambushers unleashed a barrage of gunfire, and Captain
Davis's men moved precisely,
Advancing as smoke bombs billowed clouds upon the ground, slithering across the hut-filled forest. You could only see the outlines of bayonets stabbing into the hearts of the unaware men, their arms holding onto the knife-ended barrels. Bullets whizzed by as the enemy scrambled to return fire, some of the Babylonian soldiers attempting to use their muskets, yet their hands shook as they struggled to open the chamber, failing to lock and load their rifles and being bayoneted in their attempts by growling Measowians piercing into them. Amid the slaughter, the men pressed forward, inching closer and taking every soul as they neared the encampment center.
"Far Ones! Zeh Ha!" yelled
Captain Davis, mounting a horse from the enemy encampment and cutting him loose.
"That's all of them, sir!"
"Good, Southwards! Zeh Ha!"
Back on the ridge, Reynold's men were neck and neck with their offensive, ensnared by joint traps wired across the front. The rushing cavalry outran many, but Reynolds pushed forward, striking an unaware pikeman behind his head with the butt of his flintlock. Another charged him, but he jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, and aimed square at the tackling pikeman, who turned to Reynolds just in time to meet his gaze before being blown out by Reynolds' dual flintlocks.
Turning to a group of
swordsmen, some armed with muskets, Reynolds released a fury of shots, causing a cloud of burnt wounds to cover the group of men, all the while wearing a sinister smile.
Flanking with his men, he opened fire upon more marching spearmen, laying many down.
The battlefield was painted with fierce bloodshed as Measowian bayonets attempted to pierce the enemy horse riders, only to be toppled and crushed in the process. Babylonian bodies lay strewn across the field, streams of smoke rising from their wounds, and bits of flesh splattered across the ground.
Unloaded Measowians were struck by spearmen, catching them in their vulnerable state, while others were ensnared by traps that threw darts, causing their skin to turn green and peel off as they struggled to breathe.
Then, from out of the forest, came the cry of "Zeh Ha!" Captain Davis dove out of the trees, galloping with his horse, followed by multiple others who began to corner the
Babylonians, shooting from atop their claimed horses.
With a final push, the enemy forces were overwhelmed and outgunned. "We finished them all off except for one," said a troop, his face clenched in rage, his eyebrows furrowed, covered in blood, and his chest plate torn. He dragged a lone boy warrior who was crawling desperately to escape the soldiers' grasp.
"Captain," said the man towards Davis, "We've got an early worm. You want to be the bird?" The soldier wielded the boy heartlessly, dropping him onto the ground, his teeth chattering, his eyes widened and covered with dirt as he remained on his knees, looking up to Davis's gaze.
Davis's stern expression stared the boy down, then he turned to walk away.
"We're not birds," said Davis, removing from his head the head of a dead boar. "No, we're not animals." The groups of soldiers looked with frowns and shook their heads, clutching their weapons. Davis continued,
"Besides, l'd rather eat ham.
They're worth the bite."
With small ripples of laughter, the boy took his chance to run away as the troops let him. But just before he could escape, bang! A pink mist blew in the air as the boy fell with a thud, his scraping into the dirt loud in the communal silence in the area.
The gunshot echoed around the forest as he gasped for air until he slowly succumbed, closing his eyes.
The army turned to Reynolds, his flintlock raised, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, you meant my flintlock?" he laughed loudly, and his army joined in, their laughter echoing in the forest, turning the red ground redder. Their army secured the cave entrance just as the sun began its ascent from the horizon.