Marco grunted as he dodged to the left, almost falling as two quick shadows chased after him. He took a quick look behind him, eyes widening as he saw his chasers approach with another attack. He barely escaped it with a quick jump to the right. Unfortunately, concentrating on who was chasing him, he didn’t see another shadow looming in front of him, watching, waiting. It arched its back, a soft growl escaping its throat, then jumped right at him before he realized his mistake.
The human gasped, losing his balance. He forced his hands up to defend himself as the shadow looming on top of him clawed him. The two other shadows joined in, pinning his legs as the three began to squeak in a language he couldn’t understand.
Gilda, alongside the Marines watching the scene, did though.
“Don’t let him up!” the female cub said as she held on to Marco’s leg.
“Pin him! Pin him!” one of the male cubs declared.
The third, who was clawing Marco, declared, “He’s not giving up!”
Rolling her eyes, she whistled sharply, getting the cubs’ attention. She wiggled her claw and placed it on her side. The male cub clawing on Marco took a moment to understand, and when he did, his smile widened. When he moved his claws at Marco’s sides, the human’s eyes enlarged.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” Marco muttered.
Gilda smirked. Too late, she thought as the cub began to tickle him. The human burst out laughing, now really trying to fight the cub off. He actually succeeded, but only earned more attackers as the cubs holding his legs jumped up to assist their friend.
“Okay, I give, I give!” Marco exclaimed, laughing as he bared his neck. The cubs desisted after a few seconds, raising their right forelegs in victory.
“We beat the giant! We beat the giant!”
Marco sat up, a small smile in his face as he watched the cubs jump up and down excitedly. He patted his shirt, a similar motion when a griffin wanted to dust themselves, Gilda noted, before extending his right fist. The three cubs immediately returned with their own before they continued celebrating, running around in circles around the human as he slowly got back on his feet. They even followed him as he walked towards Gilda and the Marines.
“You think you know a guy,” Guerrero declared loudly when Marco was in hearing range. “He has enough jack-off material to last him until the fucking end of the world, materials that consist of women with big fucking titties and baby-bare pussy… and it turns out, he’s just a pedo-fag tail-chaser.”
Gilda watched Marco as he rolled his eyes, raising a fist with his longest finger pointing upwards. It must have been a rude gesture because when the cubs started copying it, he began to shake his head, telling them in Equestrian not to do it. The Marines just laughed as he failed to stop them from raising their two claws with the gesture. Shaking his head, Marco grabbed a few clean bowls and scooped up water from the water basin and offered them to the cubs. They took it, and after a few sips they seemingly lost interest in Marco as they began to chase each other.
“Remember the good old days?” another Marine added. “We all thought Rico was just a weird-ass perv who did nothing but stare at pony ass, thumping his hips on the table when one went past him?”
That had Gilda looking at the Marine who spoke. She found that image entertaining. “Is that true?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, smiling.
“Don’t believe a word they say,” Marco interjected, approaching them. He gave the Marines a meaningful look. “It’s nonsense. All of it.”
“Fuck it is,” Guerrero replied. He looked at Gilda. “Rico here is the Mare Chaser. That’s the title he fucking earned.”
“No I didn’t,” Marco said. “You guys just started calling me that when—”
“Hey, hey,” Guerrero cut him off. “Who’s telling the story here, huh?”
Marco rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything anymore. Gilda shifted slightly, focusing on Guerrero. Mare Chaser? Usually, it was the mares that did the chasing. Add to the fact that Gilda, over the course of knowing Marco and his friends, heard quite a few snippets of their stay in Equestria. So far, she had never really had much to go on other than Marco facing some trouble before they got here. She never asked, but that didn’t really mean she wasn’t curious.
“What happened?” Gilda asked.
“It was back in Baltimare,” Guerrero began. “Which, honestly, is a fucking stupid name, but I won’t go on about it.”
“I think your grievance with Equestrian city names being similar to American city names is far more interesting,” Marco interrupted.
“Nah, next time,” Guerrero replied. “Now, this was a week before we left Equestria. We were all assigned to one area near the Baltimare port… what the fuck was that shit called?”
Marco rolled his eyes. “Horseshoe Bay.”
One of the Marines laughed. “Of course Flip-Boy would know the name. Dog got laid there.”
Before Marco could say anything, Guerrero continued, “So, there we were, waiting for our orders, visiting bars, and guess who we see?” He motioned towards Marco. “Mare Chaser himself, talking to this mare who looked like she had been drinking heavily. Rico was probably drunk too because the next thing we know, he was on his knees.” Guerrero then motioned his hands, as if both were cupping something.
“Great. Not only are we getting bullshit, we have to watch it get shit out too,” Marco groaned before taking a sip from his own bowl.
Guerrero paid no mind. “Grabbed that fucking pony ass, he ate her pussy like there was no tomorrow! You should have heard him lap her up. It was like he was eating nachos with sour cream dip.”
Marco coughed, spitting out some of the water he was drinking, earning a loud laugh from the Marines. One of them patted him on the back, roughly.
“Nachos with sour cream dip?” Marco asked when he finally stopped coughing, a smile forming in his lips. “That image is shit. I’m glad you’re not a writer.”
Gilda felt a blush creep on her cheeks as she looked at Marco. She didn’t know what nachos were, but sour cream definitely gave her a crude image. “Wait, you… really?” she asked.
“No!” Marco exclaimed immediately, shaking his head. He paused. “Okay, the bar part is true, and yes, my hand may have went somewhere inappropropriate, but I didn’t, as eloquently put, go down to my knees and… well, whatever.”
“You keep saying no,” one of the Marines replied, “but all I hear is—” he spoke in another accent, “—I solemnly swear, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”
“Mare in this case, dog,” Guerrero added. “Mare Chaser. Fucking Rico getting some alien pussy! Give him time, he’ll start spanking ass of those weird ass insect zombies. Maybe he’ll fucking end this war before we can even kill them fuckers.”
“We ought to call him Kirk,” another Marine declared. “Peace through booty calls.”
“Screw you guys,” Marco declared, walking away. The Marines jeered even louder, laughing when Marco repeated that same gesture with his hand, not even deeming it worthy to face them as he walked back towards the injured.
Once he was out of hearing range, Gilda turned to Guerrero. “Okay, seriously, what you said… was it true?”
Guerrero gave her a smile. “Can’t really confirm ma’am,” he replied. “All we know is a day before we left Equestria, he went missing. Made quite a few people nervous. And furious, too. They had a few us look for him. You know where they found him?”
“Where?” Gilda asked.
“Exiting some pony’s house, having messed hair, and a mare waving goodbye,” Guerrero replied.
“Fuck,” another Marine replied, “I heard they actually saw him banging that mare. They thought his moans were of distress. Must have been fucking weird when they went in, guns at the ready.”
“Nah, dog, I heard it was three mares.”
“I heard it was a mare in heat. Tried to get naughty with the Marines that came in to get him.”
Gilda blinked as more Marines pitched in, which made the story of Marco’s discovery getting more unbelievable every second, punctuated with even louder, more exuberant laughter. After a moment, she realized that either none of them knew the whole story, or that her hind leg was being pulled.
Leaving them to their tales (Marco apparently slept with Princess Celestia as well), Gilda followed Marco’s steps, until she saw him chatting with Nydia. He pointed towards the staff Gilda found inside the Shelter, and the two began conversing. It looked like Marco was asking a few questions, and Nydia herself looked a little too eager to answer. Then, to Gilda’s utter surprise, the mage began to blush.
Suddenly, the stories of him bedding three mares actually seemed a bit more plausible.
“So,” Gilda announced, coming forward, smirking. With just that word, that mage suddenly took a more professional stance and looked a bit abashed, as if someone caught her claw in the meat storage. “When did this happen?”
Marco looked at her, confused. “When did what happen?”
“You two?” she motioned at both of them. “When is the Round?”
“The what?” he asked, even more bewildered.
“It’s nothing like that, sir!” Nydia immediately declared, face flushing once more.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Gilda countered, smile getting wider. She half-wondered what excuse she’ll be hearing as she turned to Marco, who still looked completely lost. “Flirting with griffins now, Mare Chaser? Equestrian’s weren’t enough to sate your lust?”
“Oh come on, Gilda, not you too,” Marco said. Gilda laughed, gently bumping her fist on his side, making him wince a bit.
“So, what’s going on?” Gilda asked. One of her eyes widened, jokingly continued, “Why are you disturbing my mage?”
“Oh, he wasn’t disturbing me,” Nydia replied. That just widened Gilda's smile. “He just had a few questions about my new staff.” She looked towards her old one she kept beside her, once a proud stave made of polished wood, now cracked, useless and broken.
“I still have no idea what happened to your old one,” Marco said.
Nydia looked away, embarrassed. “I, um, got careless. I poured a bit too much magic into it when Sub-Tribune Behertz cut off the source that kept the Shelter open.”
“Huh… so, what, there was some kind of feedback? Or maybe the magic energy exploded out since you built it up and didn’t have anywhere else to go?” Marco asked.
Gilda and Nydia looked at each other for a moment. The former turned to Marco. “You studied Tellus Magic too?”
“Nope,” he answered with a small smile. “Only experience I have with magic is with a card game and Warcraft. Why? Was I close or something?”
“Very,” Gilda replied, half-wondering what Warcraft was.
“The second thing you said,” Nydia continued. “That’s what happened. The magic that had built up exploded outwards, tearing up the staff.”
“Considering you needed assistance to walk, I’d say there was a little feedback too,” Gilda added. “How are your legs? Still sore?”
“They’re… fine, sir,” Nydia mumbled, hugging her new staff. Gilda scratched her neck nervously, regretting her words. She forgot that mages tended to be a bit weird when anyone pointed out their mistakes, and she was pretty glad when Marco spoke up.
“Well, that’s not going to happen anymore,” he said. “Nydia was just telling me how awesome her new staff is.” He looked at Nydia, who perked up. “What did you call it again? Focal Stave?”
“Focus Staff,” Nydia corrected.
Gilda whistled. “You sure?”
“Positive, sir.”
Marco looked at both of them. “So, what, it’s a better staff or something?”
“Way better,” Gilda replied.
“How so?” Marco asked. “I mean, what’s the difference between the old one and the new one?”
Gilda looked at Nydia, the latter nodding. “My old staff is a straightforward tool. Crafted in high standards, mind, but like a regular staff, it needs a certain amount of magical energy before I can use it to cast spells.” The mage motioned towards her new staff and continued, “Focus Staff like this uses focal elements that allow energy to flow and circulate freely, allowing me to cast spells almost immediately and with less effort.”
Marco nodded. “Okay. What’s a focal element, though?”
“It can be a lot of things,” Nydia replied. “Nowadays, we use gemstones from the North.”
Marco looked at the staff once more, smiling wistfully. “Nowadays, huh?”
Gilda looked at him. “What’s on your mind?” she asked.
“Just… I don’t know,” he softly replied. “It’s honestly fascinating to hear about some sort of progress that is so alien from what I learned growing up. Magic? Focal element?” He grinned. “The next question I’d ask is how did you guys discover focal elements.”
Nydia made a small noise and Gilda sighed, scratching her foreleg. Marco seemed oblivious.
“I mean, was it by accident, or did it take years of research—” he looked at the two griffins. He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s… not something young griffins like to talk about,” Gilda replied hesitantly.
“The history and discovery of focal elements isn’t something we’re particularly proud of,” Nydia added.
Marco bit his lower lip. “Um… how so?”
“It was discovered during a war,” Gilda said.
“Ah.” He nodded. “I think I can understand. Humans discovered a lot of things during our wars too. Not all of them, I can say, we’re proud of either.”
Before Marco could add more, gunfire began to roar outside the main hall. The carousing of the Marines stopped immediately, hands going for their rifles. The cubs immediately ran and gathered around Nydia and Marco, the human absently patting their heads reassuringly.
The sounds sounds stopped after a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. Gilda’s claw automatically grabbed her crossbow, only relaxing when she heard a clear signal cry from the outside. She looked back at Marco, frowning as his eyes stared straight towards the entrance of the hall.
“It’s getting more frequent,” he said softly.
Gilda nodded. “I think they are testing our defenses.” She looked towards Nydia, Marco, and the shivering cubs. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she was feeling the attack was coming soon.
Marco looked towards the entrance of the hall, looking a bit wistful. “You think Fortrakt made it through?”
Gilda remembered Fortrakt’s smiling face as he volunteered to lead a three-griffin team to quickly fly towards the garrison, to get reinforcements. She was the fastest sky-griffin and would have volunteered herself, but protocol wouldn’t allow her to leave the battlefield without any officers to lead.
“He’s fine,” she replied solidly. “He’s probably on his way back.”
“Yeah,” Marco nodded. He sighed, and said once more, “Yeah.”
“Lakan!”
Gilda, Nydia, and the cubs looked up and saw Raleigh making his way towards them. He sported an annoyed expression which got Marco to sigh. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up. He took a deep breath before walking to meet with Raleigh.
The griffins watched the two humans talk in hushed tones, Raleigh’s frown turning ugly as he jabbed an accusing finger at Marco. The latter shook his head, his lips transforming to a thin line before he said something, face blank, and walked away. Raleigh shook his head, then turned to face them.
The cubs muttered something ugly in Aeric before running away. Nydia glanced at their direction for a second, then back to the approaching human.
“Sub-Tribune Behertz, Miss Nydia,” Raleigh greeted once he was close enough. “I’m sorry that Lakan has been bothering you. It won’t happen again.”
“He wasn’t bothering us,” Nydia said in Equestrian, earning a look from both Gilda and Raleigh. The former looked at the latter.
“She’s right,” Gilda added. “Marco’s been a good influence on the cubs, keeping them calm with everything going around them.”
“Nevertheless,” Raleigh continued, “I understand you and Miss Nydia are resting from today’s events. I’d rather not have Lakan hamper both of you from your duties.” He nodded. “If he bothers you again, please inform either Corporal Imlay or myself.”
Raliegh didn’t even wait for them reply, turning around and walking away. Nydia watched him for a moment before saying, in Aeric, “I don’t like him.”
Gilda snorted. Before she could say anything, there was another burst of gunfire that had both griffins frowning.
“That was way too soon,” Nydia muttered. After a moment, another sharp cry rang through the air, but that didn’t relax the mage. “Sir, should I check?”
Gilda shook her head. “No. You need to rest. You’ve been expending magical energy non-stop and you’re our only mage. I’ll take a look.”
Once Nydia nodded, Gilda made her way out of main hall. First thing she saw as she emerged from the doors was two Marines behind the big gun they had used earlier against the Cloven Rams. It had been moved to almost at the center of the road, just a few paces away from the entrance of the hall. The Marines also erected a makeshift cover in front of it, made from parts of the gate that once covered the breach. It had been destroyed by the Cloven Rams, whose corpses were now used as a temporary barrier. Even Gilda could appreciate the irony. However, there were more pressing matters. She looked to her left and saw a sight that was becoming all too common: Imlay and Giraldi talking.
“The last attack came too fast,” she commented, approaching the Centurion and Corporal. Giraldi automatically saluted, while Imlay gave his usual nod.
“Sir,” Giraldi replied quickly. “I don’t know if we can call them attacks, really, but agreed.”
“Giraldi and I are suspecting that they are going to come at us soon,” Imlay added.
Gilda nodded. “I thought the same. Has he briefed you on how most of the Cloven operate?”
Imlay nodded. “Troopers, or the ground forces, are the infantry, while the Flyers are their transport and anti-air.” He frowned. “Seems like a waste, though. Give the flyers a ranged weapon, it could bolster their offensive capabilities.”
“Let’s not give the enemy any good ideas,” Gilda replied drily, earning a smile from Imlay. She returned it with her own before looking towards Giraldi. “Any word on the scouts?”
“The usual,” Giraldi replied. “More trees, plains, and a few Flyers.”
“No century of Cloven marching our way?” Gilda asked.
“No, sir.”
“Which makes me nervous,” Imlay interjected. “A century is almost a hundred right?” When Gilda nodded, he continued, “Then it makes me wonder where they are. I mean, they obviously know we’re here. And considering we already have our flanks covered, we know they aren’t trying to sneak behind us. I’m not trying to sound too eager, but I have to wonder why they are taking their sweet time.”
“Maybe it’s you humans?” Giraldi guessed.
Imlay looked at him for a moment, then at Gilda, who looked thoughtful. “It makes sense,” she replied. “Cloven fight after they have gathered sufficient information on whoever they are engaging. They don’t just amass numbers and march their forces straight to the enemies. Studying our defenses could be a way of studying you.”
“That, or they could be trying to to see how many more times we can fire on them,” Imlay suggested. He chuckled. “If so, they are going to wait for a while then.”
One of Giraldi’s eyes widened, then he looked at Gilda. She gave him a short nod. “Glad to hear it then. Maybe they will wait long enough for Fortrakt to come back. Which reminds me… any news on him?”
Giraldi shook his head. “None yet. Considering he’s been gone for almost two hours, I’m pretty sure it won’t be long.”
Gilda nodded. “I’m sure.”
Imlay grunted. “Two hours.” He looked at Gilda. “Any of the civilians getting listless?”
“A few,” she replied. “Marco keeps moving around a lot, talking to griffins, even befriending the cubs.”
Imlay frowned. “Is he bothering any of them?”
She shook her head. “Mister Raleigh asked the same thing,” she replied. Then, her tone hardened. “And the answer is no, Marco hasn’t been bothering any of us.”
“Just making sure, ma’am,” Imlay replied calmly. “The question wasn’t a slant against him specifically. It’s been two hours, and the civilians have nothing to do except sit and wait. It wouldn’t surprise me if a few of them got a bit stir-crazy.”
Gilda sighed, nodding. “Sorry.”
“It’s fin—”
The sound of gunfire cut off Imlay. The three of them looked towards the west, the direction where it came from. They waited for the silence to come, for the shout that indicated the area was clear, but nothing. Rifles continued to thunder out. Then, unbelievably, another set of gunshots came from the southeast.
Imlay frowned, his hand going towards the side of his helmet. He then said, “How many again?” His eyes widened. He looked at Gilda and Giraldi. “I may have spoken too soon. A large amount of ground forces are being dropped on both western and southeastern walls. They are requesting for reinforcements.”
Giraldi looked at her. “Sir, maybe now’s a good time test that little tactic we thought of.”
Gilda looked at him and at Imlay. The human nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it,” she said.
Quick arrangements were made. Almost all available forces were split into two groups, leaving a few griffins and Marines behind to support both the big gun that guarded the breach and the civilians. Giraldi and Imlay led their group to the southeastern wall, which left Gilda’s group to support the western wall.
Wind Knights flew in formation behind her, crossbows ready, while the earth-griffins dashed right below them, carrying the Marines on their backs. This was the first suggested tactic that Gilda, Giraldi, and Imlay had thought was simple enough to implement; it combined the firepower of a Marine with the ground coverage of an earth-griffin.
The group quickly spotted the guards of the western wall, both Marines and griffins, falling back from the incoming mob of Troopers chasing them. Gilda shouted an order to the lead earth-griffin—a Fortus Knight carrying Guerrero. He raised his claw, which signaled all the earth-griffins following him to fan out, taking to the air before landing on the rooftops of the nearby settlements. The Marines unloaded themselves from the griffins they rode, took a moment to aim their rifles at the charging black wave, then opened fire a second later.
The roaring sound of gunfire that spat out metal death produced green and black gore as Troopers fell one by one. The retreating Marines, realizing what was going on, stopped running and aimed their own weapons at any of the Cloven that were too stubborn to fall.
As the wave began to falter and lose momentum, there was a buzzing sound, a little overwhelmed by the roaring thunder of the rifles. Gilda didn’t need to hear it though as she could see clearly what was coming: flyers, carrying ground troops as reinforcements. They made their way towards the Marines and griffins in the rooftops, maybe hoping to drop Troopers on top of their heads.
Not today, she thought fiercely. She aimed her notched crossbow and yelled, “Aim for the Flyers! Fire!”
Thrums of strings came next. Metal bolts whistled into the air before they hit the Flyers. Most of them fell to the ground, and those that didn’t felt the momentum of the Wind Knights’ charge. Gilda weaved through the air, her metal claw aiming for a flyer’s thin razor-sharp wing, cutting it just enough to incapacitate it. She let gravity do the rest. She almost missed a Cloven coming behind her, but a Wind Knight stopped it.
More and more Flyers fell, clearing the skies, while down below, Marines stopped firing their rifles as the earth-griffins took charge, smashing, slashing, and stabbing any of the Cloven forces that were still moving.
Witnessing all of it, Gilda felt a victory cry building up from her chest. The strangest thing was, unlike earlier, she didn’t feel tired but alive. Facing off against the enemy herself, not letting anyone else fight, had been absolutely exhilarating. She didn’t know if it was adrenaline or something, but she was fully alert. Her eyes could see small gestures of celebration between the Marines and the griffin soldiers on the ground; she could feel tiny wind streams flowing through her feathers; and she could hear another set of buzzing sounds getting louder and louder.
Focusing towards the outer wall, she saw a few more flyers coming to them, oddly, not carrying any ground troops. The Wind Knights spotted them too, judging by the way they all loaded their crossbows. Gilda prepared hers as well.
“Aim!” she ordered, raising her crossbow to level. She smiled a bit as she saw that the flyers weren’t even dispersing. In fact, they were stopping just in range, their beaks opening slightly. However, before she could even order them to shoot, she spotted something coming at her.
Something fast, something dangerous.
She didn’t even have time to blink as she dodged, but even then, she wasn’t fast enough. Fire engulfed her neck, sharp and painful as crimson blood sprayed out into the air. Her eyes widened as she saw something long, black, and sharp striking the Wind Knight behind her. He looked at her blankly, as if not realizing that he was hit. His eyes then widened as understanding crossed his eyes before they became lifeless, before he fell to the ground.
“Disperse!” Gilda ordered, firing one shot towards the nearest flyer. As she flew at an angle, she could see that her shot flew true, striking the flyer in the chest with enough force to drive it down.
Wind Knights fired their own shots as well before taking evasive actions. Some screamed as black spikes hit them, bringing them down. Gilda cursed, stealing a glance at the very still flyers in the sky, beaks open as they fired towards the dodging griffins continuously, not allowing any of them to notch their crossbows.
We can’t dodge forever, Gilda thought desperately, wondering when did the Flyers started to use ranged weaponry. Whatever they were shooting out was fast and accurate, with a few almost clipping her wings.
Fortunately, the Marines on the rooftops seemed to understand the situation because next thing she knew, she heard Guerrero shout, “Bring those fuckers down!”
Gilda couldn’t really tell what happened next as she made her way towards the roof where Guerrero and the Fortus Knight were. Her ears picked up something whistling nearby, and she rolled in the air one more time before she landed on the rooftop, badly. The impact jostled her, and everything seemed to tumble around. She saw the sky one moment, and the rooftop surface the next. It didn’t help that the deafening sounds of human rifles disoriented her further, which was why she was so glad when they finally stopped.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?”
Gilda shut her beak, hoping the moan in her throat wouldn’t escape. She opened her eyes and saw Guerrero’s face, still a bit blurry. She felt for her claws, her legs, and her wings. So far, they seemed responsive. Nodding at the question, she slowly made her way to all fours before looking at the Marine, his form now solidifying.
“Thanks for the support,” she said, voice a bit hoarse.
The Fortus Knight came forward, offering to help her, but she waved him off. She shook her head for a moment, looking at the sky. No Cloven on sight. On the ground, there was nothing but a pool of green and black.
“Casualties?” she asked.
“Marines all accounted for,” Guerrero replied.
“We have three injured Wind Knights,” the Fortus Knight added. “They can still fly and fight. However…”
“I know one fell,” Gilda nodded. She sighed. Another griffin under her command, gone. “Have someone take his body. We’re not leaving him with our enemies.”
The Fortus Knight saluted and walked towards the edge of the roof, shouting an order. Gilda sighed once again, sitting down on her haunches. She took a few deep breaths and stretched her wings a bit to get the kinks out. Guerrero looked at her oddly, and motioned towards her neck.
“You’re cut,” he said.
“Is it bad?”
He shook his head. “No, but you might want to get it looked at. What did that?”
“Their Flyers have some sort of ranged weapon or something,” Gilda replied, frowning. “Shot out something faster than our bows. Pretty accurate as well.”
Before Guerrero could reply, the familiar sound of the big gun firing echoed in the air. Gilda shifted slightly, towards the direction of the main hall, and her eyes widened as she saw the part of the sky blotted out.
“Holy shit,” Guerrero muttered. “That’s a lot of flyers.”
“We have to go,” Gilda muttered. “With the flyers having ranged weaponry, those defending the main hall won’t stand a chance.”
“Go, ma’am. We’ll catch up as soon as we can.”
Gilda nodded her thanks, then squawked an order. With effort, she flapped her wings hard enough to lift her, soreness and fire spreading throughout her flight muscles. Her earlier rapture of battle seemed to have faded, leaving her feeling a bit exhausted. She ignored it, concentrating on keeping herself afloat, and when the surviving Wind Knights joined her, she dashed through the air, towards the main hall.
As the got closer, the blot of the sky became less solid; the shape of the flyers got more more defined. She could count at least thirty flyers, maybe a bit more, which was staggering compared to what they had just fought off earlier.
She realized that she might be looking at the main attack force, the missing century of Cloven that the scouts had reported earlier. And if that was the case, the main bulk of the ground forces were either here or on their way.
As they got closer, Gilda finally spotted the few Marines and griffins assigned to guard the main hall. They were desperately trying to find cover, dragging any injured with them. Two of the Marines she had seen operating the big gun hid well behind the makeshift cover they made, using their own rifles to fire back at the Flyers. The destructive weapon lay silent, probably unable to fire at the airborne Cloven.
“Ready your crossbows,” Gilda ordered, notching her crossbow.
“Sir?” one of the Wind Knights called nervously. “I don’t think we can—”
“We don’t need to kill them all,” Gilda cut the Knight off, her voice deceptively calm, which surprised her. “We just need to distract them long enough so the Marines can reposition and start supporting us.”
“Then what?”
Gilda looked at them before replying, “Then we can try and kill them all.”
The Wind Knights looked at each other, doubt and fear etched to their faces. A few of them took a few breaths, making Gilda wonder if they were going to protest or even run. However, they proved to be true griffin soldiers when they finally nodded, beaks clamped shut as they began loading their weapons. She gave them a nod back, notching her own crossbow.
“Take aim,” Gilda commanded as they approached. “Once we fire, take evasive maneuvers and get to some cover. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good. Fire!”
Bolts flew true, hitting Flyers. That was enough to distract the rest of them, screeching hatefully as a few of them shifted their positions, facing the incoming Wind Knights, their beaks open. A thought absently went through Gilda’s head as she banked to the left, wondering if whatever projectiles they were shooting were coming from their mouths. She thought no more about it as she absently adjusted her flight and landed on a nearby rooftop.
Oddly, her crossbow was already loaded. She didn’t remember doing that, but what was more, her exhaustion disappeared. Not one to question good fortune, she just aimed towards one of the flyers that were shooting towards the Marines and griffins on the ground, took a step to the right, barely dodging a black spike coming at her, before she made her shot. She didn’t bother to look if she hit her target, immediately jumping to another rooftop, one with a neck-high barrier, as more spikes whizzed towards her direction.
Rolling on her landing, she ducked under cover and notched her crossbow. She could hear the cracks of the rocks as the flyers shot out their deadly spikes. She half-wondered how good Southern masonry was, but shook that out of her head as she heard short burst of rifles firing out. She turned her head towards the direction of the gunfire and saw the rest of her group finally arrive.
Earth-griffins jumped towards the rooftops, trying to position themselves to counter the numerous flyers. Some griffins got shot, leaving the Marine riding them to try and drag them to cover. In some cases, it was the Marine that got caught. Most of them did get behind something and they began to fire their weapons, scattering Flyers as they repositioned themselves to respond to the new threat.
Something landed beside her. She readied herself in case it was Cloven, but it was just one of the Wind Knights she was leading. The two griffins looked at each other, readied their crossbows, and then nodded. Without a word, the Gilda and the Knight popped out of their hiding places, aimed, and shot down two flyers before ducking down once more. More gunshots rang out, but the enemy attack never seemed to cease.
“Sir, I’m out of bolts,” the Wind Knight beside her said. Gilda checked on her own pouch, only to see she had only two left.
“Here, last one,” she said, handing it to the Knight. “Make it count.”
The Wind Knight looked at it blankly before taking it. “Yes, sir.”
Gilda nodded. She looked at her last bolt before she notched her crossbow. “On three,” she ordered. “One. Two.” She took a breath. “Thre—”
She stopped when she felt the hairs of her coat stand on end as the magical energy washed around her, building up nearby. Her first instinct was to look up, see if there was anything building up from the sky, to indicate another Corrupted mage nearby. Nothing. Before she could think of anything else though, bright light flashed outwards, and the pungent smell of burnt Cloven corpse wafted around her.
Gilda heard Cloven screech. When she peeked out, she saw the surviving Flyers retreat in a hurry. Below, she saw a pool of flyer corpses—fifteen, maybe twenty—smoking, some of them on fire. Without anyone firing at them, the Marines came out of their own cover, aimed their rifles, and fired on the retreating forces, even hitting a few of them.
Nydia was definitely proving her worth, Gilda thought, her eyes searching for the mage. Nydia’s attack was Ancestor-sent, potentially giving them enough time to mount a defense. Without that… Gilda didn’t want to think about the outcome.
She saw the mage near the entrance of the main hall. What surprised her was Marco’s presence nearby. Without another word, Gilda jumped from the rooftop and glided towards the human. As she closed the distance, she could see Marco holding Nydia’s new staff, his hand clutching her claw. Gilda flapped her wings a bit, spreading them in the air to slow down her descent before landing on all fours.
Marco turned around, and after seeing Gilda, he looked relieved. “Gilda! Thank God. I need help to get Nydia back insi—hey, your neck is bleeding.”
Gilda studied him. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Marco looked at her, confused. “What?”
“Are you hurt?” Gilda repeated, a little louder. Her claw clamped on his arm and forcefully turned him to his side. He didn’t seem to be bleeding.
“No, no, I’m fine,” Marco confirmed, jerking his arm strongly, trying to make her let go. She didn’t, and she made him turn to his other side. “Ow! Hey! I’m fine, really!”
“What were you doing outside, Marco?!” Gilda demanded, releasing her hold on him. “Crows take it, do you know how dangerous it is?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “I’m not stupid, Gilda.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I beg to differ.”
Before Marco could reply, Nydia spoke up, weakly. “Sir, please, his presence is my fault.”
Gilda looked at the mage. “How so?” she asked.
“He was assisting me outside the main hall,” Nydia replied. “I, um, couldn’t…” and she trailed off.
Gilda blinked. “Couldn’t what?”
“She couldn’t walk straight,” Marco answered for Nydia. “She was stumbling around. I tried to stop her, but she insisted. I only brought her to the door, opened it just wide enough so she could pass through. I swear I wasn’t outside until she did her thing and heard her collapse.”
Nydia nodded. Gilda frowned, looking at both of them before she reluctantly sighed. “Next time, just stay inside, okay? Even if we’re in trouble, you stay inside.”
Marco frowned. “I can’t promise that.” Gilda’s eyes narrowed again, and he raised his hands in a placating manner. “Fine, I’ll stay inside.”
Gilda sighed and looked at the mage. “How much energy do you have?” she asked, impressed.
“Not a lot anymore, I’m afraid,” Nydia replied in a whisper.
Before Gilda could respond, she heard someone land behind her. Stealing a glance, she saw a Fortus Knight and Guerrero walking right at them. The Marine blinked as he saw Marco. “The fuck you doing out here?” he asked.
Gilda could only sigh, and then looked at the Knight. “Help the injured, take a look at the casualties,” she ordered. He saluted, and stepped away. She looked back pointedly towards Marco. “You bring Nydia inside. And you stay there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. He walked towards the mage and slowly helped her stand, slowly leading her towards the entrance of the main hall, closing the door behind them.
The sound of wings flapping got both Guerrero and Gilda to look up as the Wind Knights of Imlay and Giraldi’s group began to land. Imlay, riding an earth-griffin, and Giraldi came to view next. The Corporal dismounted and the two looked around, towards the Cloven corpses. When they spotted her, they approached.
“I guess we missed it,” Imlay declared.
“Nice job, sir,” Giraldi added, sounding very impressed. Gilda shook her head.
“We didn’t do much,” she admitted. “Just took their attention long enough to have Nydia do most of the work. Which reminds me, I’m writing a commendation letter to Captain Narada once we return to Arnau.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Casualties?” Imlay asked.
“I’ve assigned someone to look into that.”
“Good,” Imlay said, frowning. “Also, remind me never to run my mouth, Sub-Tribune.”
Gilda blinked. “What do you mean, Corporal?”
“Remember our conversation, where I said Flyers would be more effective with ranged weapons?” Imlay shook his head. “I didn’t think they’d actually take it to consideration.”
“None of us did,” Gilda replied.
The Corporal nodded, then motioned towards the sky. Giraldi and Gilda both frowned as they spotted a small black cloud, slowly growing in size. “Ride never ends, huh?” Imlay said.
“Sub-Tribune!”
Gilda turned to the Fortus Knight calling out. He was accompanied by Stavrou, clutching his abdomen, and a few Wind Knights. The Marine winced in pain with every step while the Wind Knights looked worn, feathers ruffled and coat disheveled.
“Those are the scouts we assigned to observe anything beyond the breach,” Giraldi said softly.
Stavrou quickened his pace until he stood in front of the three. He gave them all nods. “Corporal.”
“What happened to you?” Imlay asked, frowning.
“Got hit by one of them fuckers,” Stavrou replied, the hand clutching his stomach motioning towards a black spike stuck to the ground. “New armor stopped it cold, but still hurt like a fucking bitch.”
Gilda looked at Stavrou’s stomach, noticing a slight indent, but no actual damage. She reminded herself to ask Marco about their armor as well once they have the free time.
“Anyway, the forward observers came back,” Stavrou continued, motioning towards the haggard-looking scouts. “None of them spoke English, but it seems pretty bad.”
Giraldi stepped forward. “Report,” he ordered in Aeric.
One of the Wind Knights nodded. “Sir, Cloven troops numbering more than a century are coming at us.”
“Crows,” Giraldi cursed, looking towards the sky.
“What is it?” Imlay asked. When Gilda related what the scout said in Equestrian, he too looked grim. “Are you saying there may be more than a hundred Cloven on our way?”
“Judging by the skies, that’s not so far off,” Giraldi muttered. He looked at Gilda. “Sir, I don’t think we can hold out.” He looked at Imlay. “No offense, Corporal, but while your weapon is unbelievably powerful, I don’t think they’d be helpful against that many flyers.”
“I agree,” Imlay replied. He frowned, looking towards the main hall. “If we can neutralize the flyers, we may have a fighting chance. Can Nydia repeat her performance?”
Gilda shook her head. “I don’t think she’ll be able to. She had been expending magical energy non-stop, and still a bit sore from a previous feedback. She must be Ancestor-blessed to still be awake.”
Imlay frowned. “I’d say push forward to Aricia, but Flyers would catch up quickly. And I’d rather not leave the civilians exposed.”
Gilda was about to agree when a Marine shouted, “Contact!” before gunfire crackled once more. She looked at the Marines, all now pointing their rifles to the sky as the Flyers finally arrived.
“Fuck, they are fast,” Imlay said, raising the volume of his voice. He looked towards main hall. “Are the main hall walls strong enough to hold off their ground forces?”
“What do you mean?” Giraldi asked.
“We can use the main hall as cover against the Flyers’ ranged attacks, allowing us to concentrate on ground forces coming in,” Imlay explained.
Before Gilda could reply, the loud and ugly wail of the Cloven Ram’s warcry echoed through the air.
“Well, shit,” Imlay said. He looked at the two griffins. “Will the building hold against those?”
Gilda frowned, unsure what to say. However, with the growing cloud descending on them, she wasn’t so sure there was a right answer. It didn’t help that the gunfire, as loud as it was, was getting overwhelmed by the buzzing sound of the flyers. “It’s the best we got!” she shouted over the noise. “Whatever plan we come up with, we have to do it now.”
Giraldi nodded. “Agreed. It’s the best we have. Let’s fall back inside the hall.”
“Guerrero!” Imlay shouted towards the shooting Marine, getting his attention. “Tell Watkins and Briggs that we’re bringing the fifty-cal inside the hall! We’ll also need covering fire for both of them!”
“On it!” Guerrero replied, running quickly towards his brothers-at-arms. A slight whistle and Gilda had to duck as small pieces of rock flew everywhere. Black spikes punctured the walls and ground nearby the hall.
“We need the get any injured inside,” Gilda told Giraldi. The Centurion nodded, and shouted an order. Earth-griffin Talons began to move while Wind Knights took the air, the thrums of their crossbows mingling with the human gunfire. However, soon, it was clear that for attrition, the Cloven were getting the upper hand. Gunfire rate began to slow down as Marines began take cover for longer periods, and the Wind Knights concentrated more on dodging than shooting.
A clang of metal echoed nearby, and Gilda saw a Fortus Knight raising his shield to protect Giraldi as he opened the door of the main hall. “Get inside! Inside!” the Centurion shouted. One by one, earth-griffin Talons carrying the injured dashed through the opening, outrunning the black spikes stabbing the ground in their wake.
“Goddamnit,” Imlay cursed. Gilda glanced at his direction, seeing him watch two Marines carrying the parts of the big gun pinned down by the Flyers. Worse, dust flew, punctuated with as the Troopers were dropped off. They roared in victory. “Shit!” the Corporal shouted. He looked at the nearby Marines. “Cover Watkins and Briggs! We need that fifty-cal back inside! Now!”
Cloven Ram warcries echoed throughout the air once more. Gilda could now see their outline behind the Troopers, running at full speed. They smashed through anything in their path, mercilessly crushing the corpses of the downed Flyers under their hooves.
We’re going to be overrun, she thought defeatedly.
Gilda could only look up to the darkening skies. A cold gust of wind blew around her, and even with her thick coat, she shivered. Everything else seemed to move slowly, from the retreating Marines, running from cover to cover, to the Wind Knights trying to fly in the sky. She wasn’t the praying type, and Gilda wondered, eyes closed, if at her final moments, she would call out for the Ancestors to help.
A roar of fire made her open her eyes, and unbelievably, the first thing she saw was crimson flames raining down from the sky. They hit the screeching Flyers, fires enkindling them with dancing orange light.
Then the sound of the Southern Drums came next.
Fortus Knights in full armor came down from the sky like a striking hammer, ramming their shields on the enflamed Flyers before slowing down long enough to land on their fours. A centurion followed them, shouting, ordering the Knights to form a shieldwall.
Metal clinked as the shields linked together, meeting the incoming Cloven tide without losing ground. Every once in a while, two shields would open up, just long enough for the Knights to swing their warhammers, smashing chitin with the force of their strokes. Then, on signal, the frontline smashed their shields forward strong enough to push the enemy back, giving them enough time to hover in the air, falling backwards, letting the next line put up a fresh shieldwall.
A signal came from the sky, and Gilda watched with awe as Wind Knights glided behind the Fortus Knights, and in a synchronized manner, aimed their crossbows towards the Flyer reinforcements and let loose their bolts. As if knowing that the flyers could return fire, they scattered immediately towards the nearby rooftops.
Cloven Rams wailed out, their steps making the ground shake as they approached the shieldwall, arms raised high to smash the defenses down, only to meet their deaths as lightning struck down from the darkened skies. After a little searching, Gilda finally saw four Magus Knights just above the roof of the main hall. Their staves glowed brightly as they pooled all their energies together to unleash their spectacular offensive.
“Gilda!” Fortrakt shouted.
Gilda blinked, looking at the direction of his shout. He was accompanied by a few Talons, waving his arm merrily before pointing towards the Fortus Knight, smiling brightly.
“Well, what do you know,” Imlay said softly, awed. “Live to fight for another day.”
Marines and griffins finally came out of their cover, sure that they were fired at, watching the Gryphon Shieldwall mow down the incoming Cloven. Guerrero could only whistle.
“Heh. Damn griffins finally getting some,” he said, before raising his arm, shouting, “Yeah! Get some!”
Imlay smiled for a moment before shaking his head. He looked at the Marines watching the griffin war machine at work, and shouted, “We ain’t done yet, Marines. Reload, and make sure the little fuckers aren’t going to flank us. Besides, you ain’t gonna let the Griffies do all the work, are you?”
Gilda looked at the Corporal. “Griffies?”
“Yup,” Imlay replied with a smile, taking out the magazine from his rifle. “What can I say, you guys earned it.” He looked at the shieldwall smashing the enemy forces charging at them. “Damn earned it.”