A state of panic spread through the camp as soldiers fell on their knees, screams of agony piercing through the air in an unglorified hue.
The Commander watched in dismay as his soldiers on their knees convulsed from the pitch sound.
Their bodies were constantly swirling and churning at each other as black liquid oozed out from their orifice.
He counted the numbers nearing fifty or maybe more, but even amongst his highly trusted subordinates were bugs.
Turning back, he glanced at Captain Rendo, who was on his knees, black liquid gushing out of his mouth.
The sight was horrific and borderline scary as the people gathered stood mesmerized by the sight.
The Commander bit down on his lips.
"Soldiers! Get your weapons! Kill the enemy!" His voice was like a trumpet, and the soldiers rushed off into the camp, entering their tents to get their weapons.
All this time, Paxton bore the full brunt of his hypersensitivity. His ears were pierced by the awful vibrations and nerve-breaking impulses of the solitude rock.
It not only amplified the sound but caused a ripple of it, like a continuous stream. It was unpleasant, and his senses were quickly shutting down but he needed to keep it up.
'There's no telling what they'll do once they figure out we know their weakness'.
It was even possible that they could send a note to the King. Once the slave king launched an attack now, they would be in some serious trouble.
The bugs were quickly killed, one after the other, as the sound of gunpowder pierced through the air.
This continued for seconds and minutes until another sound shook the camp in a state of frenzy.
The Commander and a lot of army members looked up at the sky, their gazes filled with shock at the sight.
A red light pierced through the skies, igniting a spark of crimson bright.
It was at that point that Paxton dropped the rod, his gaze fixed on the light. He didn't need protocols to teach him what that meant, as screams pierced through the silence.
Not the screams of pain, but of power. The slaves were charging towards the hill, they had launched their last attack.
With a slight grunt, he dropped the objects on the ground, his gaze shifting to the camp as the commander announced, his voice causing a chill down the spines of the soldiers.
"My Soldiers! Get your things prepared! We no longer have an option. We will fight!" he instructed, and his soldiers quickly obliged.
Paxton had quickly turned away from the gathering, his location fixed on his mind.
While he did so, the commander walked up to Captain Rendo, the last bug kept alive.
His gaze was stern as if Rendo was not his subordinate a few minutes ago.
"You were a fake," The Commander said, his husky voice cracking from all his commands.
The camp was left in a state of disarray as the soldiers rushed around, their gazes filled with determination. This was their last battle against the slaves, and perhaps their last day of being alive.
"Hah hah! It is too late commander. We have been here for too long. The Slave King has you in his palm. All that remains is your death".
Captain Rendo struggled to say, as his body continued to convulse. His eyes had turned black from the liquid that oozed out, and a trail of black liquid dried at the corner of his lips.
"That might be true…." the commander said as he pointed his shotgun at his face. "..but, you won't ever infiltrate the country".
With a pull of the trigger, an eruption of sound occurred as Captain Rendo was left lifeless without his head on the ground, black liquid oozing out of his very being.
The Commander grunted slightly, his gaze on the barricades in front of his camp.
He walked over to it and smashed it down, his gaze scanning the horizon at the multitude of people that rushed towards them.
Humans and glitches alike rush towards them in frantic bloodlust.
'War….the failure of humankind'. He thought as he raised his shotgun in the air.
"Soldiers!" he called out as his soldiers gathered behind him.
Amongst those left were three captains, a few sergeants, and about five hundred soldiers.
"This is our last tangle with death. Make it count".
He said before pointing his gun forward. He aimed at one of the incoming slaves and pulled the trigger, releasing a bullet that sent the figure into the air with a blast of flesh around him.
"Assault Formation!" he announced, and the group of soldiers rushed forward, each forming a row with the first holding out large shields, half the size of a light pole.
The next aimed their guns through the crevices of the shields and the next did the same.
With their formation in line, the commander waited patiently.
A tense silence suffused the air as the sounds of rushing slaves filled the air in a state of war, anticipation building up as the last prayers of soldiers filled the air.
"Aim! FIRE!!"
Like a machine, the soldiers pulled the trigger at command, the bullets piercing through the air and into the slaves that rushed towards them.
The air was filled with sounds of gunfire and screams as bodies fell to the ground, never to be awoken again. The earth was filled with the blood of the humans, and the unspoken cries of tomorrow as glitches of insurmountable sizes dashed out of the army towards the soldiers.
Their bodies were pierced through by the bullets as well, falling to the ground and adding to the number of bodies that would never see the dawn of day again.
Creatures of large sizes and small sizes alike, human-like figures and animal-like figures, flying serpents, and burrowing dragons.
The numbers, though, were countable to nearly a hundred as they rampaged through the battlefield, unable to distinguish between for and friend and simply causing carnage as the slaves slammed into the shield of the army men.
Their screams of protest filled their ears with troubled images that were quickly shot down by their weapons.
The glitches were approaching at a rapid speed and would soon reach the soldiers, while at the far back, where a small portion of the army amidst the sand and stone, was the Slave King.
Seated on a throne carried by six of his kind. His black void eyes filled with disgust as he watched the gruesome scene of war unfold.
The cries of creatures he led himself filled him with tranquillity and peace, and the blood that stained the earth called out his name.
He would rejoice when he heard the sound of his enemies and turn solemn when he heard the voices of his kin.
The Slave King was a mighty man, or at least that was what was written on paper, but Paxton Zen thought otherwise.
While the fight occurred at the front of the last barricade, Paxton had rushed back to the tent of the Commander, passing by the medic tent in the process.
It seemed like they had begun to park so that they at least would survive.
He didn't think of that though. At the moment, Paxton's thoughts were muffled by the consonant sounds that caused great discomfort to his balance.
He had always fought against his condition on many occasions, but a war field was not a good place to fight against high ear sensitivity.
With his will, he rushed into the tent and picked up the stacks of Glitches legs he had obtained.
He had applied small gems of Pixel ore on the top of it and tied them together with the cloth of the tent.
'This took nearly an hour to fix up'. He thought as he counted out ten and rushed back out, his gaze fixed on the sky as he headed toward the battlefield.
00:10:58
Time was not on his side, but he had achieved two already.
'It's impossible to make a miracle…what does the server even mean by that?'. He wondered before glancing at the battlefield.
'There are two ways of winning a war…one, you use your army to attain a victory and two, you go for the Commander'.
His gaze locked unto the Slave King, his thoughts reeling in.
'I'm killing that bastard'.