The Iron Chancellor

by Radical Centrist

'Civilising' completed (Unposted Chapter)

Author's Note:

Old Author's note:
Sorry in advance, but this chapter will be quick and choppy.

Just imagine the battle is on 5-speed.

Present Author's note:
Welp, this is the last of my unposted chapters.

Those of you who have stuck around all this time, you will realise one of them is still missing, but with hindsight, it was, and still is, too cringe for even the most generous viewers to not wince at.

So, sorry. But that one will never be reposted.

Retreat. a word wholly unfamiliar and unknown to the minotaurs.

Those who knew it, were either dead or banished; their reputations tarnished and their lives ruined.

Sich stigma and culture against retreat worked well in a time where routes and morale decided outcomes of battles, but they wouldn't be fighting such a battle.

In a time where lessons were learnt through many generations and mistakes, the minotaurs would learn something in just a day.

A lesson taught in the most powerful form; Defeat.

---

Zulu's surroundings: Minotaur warband

Warchief Cache Wayo looked on impudently towards their captured city; eyeing the distant griffons who lined the makeshift barricades outside the city.

The barricades were created by anything nearby or available; many of its sections being weak, tearable tent fabrics. Upon seeing this, the minotaur warriors surrounding the city scoffed with arrogance.

"Chief! What are your orders?" A warrior stepped forwards; his short spear and shield clattering impatiently, as his eyes screamed out for glory.

Cache squinted towards the city; his mind pre-occupied by suspicion and curiosity. "Why haven't the griffons flown away already? Are they deaf to our mighty marches? Blind to our strength and numbers?" He pondered, as he began to flirt with the testimonies of the fleeing cowards that informed them of the city's fall.

Cache shook his head. "No. There are no such weapons as those the cowards described." He reasoned, "Just another exaggeration to excuse their failure." He frowned weakly; the memories of incompetent and deflective war chiefs resurfacing into his mind.

"Chief?" The same warrior interrupted; causing Cache to blink away from his memories.

After a slow nod to the warrior, Cache turned to face his Warband.

"WARRIORS OF SHAKA! TODAY YOU WILL EARN YOUR GLORY! YOUR FAME! YOUR WEALTH!" He boomed, "WE SHALL BE VICTORIOUS AGAINST THESE CAT-BIRD MONSTROSITIES! FOR WE OUTNUMBER AND SURROUND THEM!"

The warriors cheered, as they banged their shields and spears together; creating an ominous and threatening noise.

"THEY WILL TRY TO FLY AWAY! SO THROW YOUR SPEARS IF THEY DO! WE CAN MAKE QUICK WORK OF THEM WITH OUR FISTS ANYWAYS!" Cache ordered as they were far more powerful than griffons strength-wise.

The Warriors surged forwards; their shields clattering menacingly as they approached the city. Many at the back readied themselves to hurl their spears; for they believed the griffons would try to flee as soon as their lines met. Oh how wrong they were.

---

Zulu interiors: The griffon barricades

"Hold your fire!" Bromhead shouted, as his men fidgetted with their weapons; attempting to quell their fears.

"Wait 'till you see the whites of their eyes!" Robert 'arghhhed', causing some men to lightly chuckle.

The ponies meanwhile huddled close to the barricades; not wanting to get skewered by a minotaurs' spear. Among them lied Petal; still busy tending to a wounded.

"This is crazy! We're all going die!" A shaking stallion cried; his hooves pressing tightly against his head.

"We should've run when we had the chance!" He continued, as grabbed another pony's shoulder and jerked it violently.

Suddenly, a rock collided with the panicking stallion's face; sending him tumbling backwards and dazed. "Quiet you!" A unicorn scolded, as her aura on her horn slowly dissipated, "You think running would've saved us? -We don't know any directions nor have the stamina to travel, -we would've not gone far." She finished with a stomp.

The stallion shamefully drooped and frowned, whilst the gathered ponies rubbed their hooves awkwardly and nervously.

"AIM!" Bromhead shouted; snapping the ponys' attentions. The soldiers along the barricades braced their rifles.

The sound of minotaurs charging was unignorable now, as their silhouettes in the distance became more and more distinguishable. The ponies began huddling together.

"FIRE!"

Rifles along the barricades cracked and flashed; the minotaurs leading the charge suddenly limping and tumbling from the shot.

The minotaurs in the second line skidded to a stop to process what had happened but was pushed by the line behind them.

"ONWARDS! ONWARDS! CONTINUE THE CHARGE!" Cache screamed from the back; annoyed at the sudden loss of momentum.

Meanwhile, the ponies watched on with awe and shock; those who had already witnessed the griffons' firepower simply observed studiously; studying the rifle.

The most thoughtful of them all was the unicorn mare; whose experience in studying other creatures' weapons during her services as a battlemage became applicable to her situation.

While other ponies focused on the muzzle of the rifle and the flash, the unicorn studied the bolt and trigger; theorising its correlation with the 'shot' that had been fired.

Her thoughts would be soon proven correct, as the griffons cocked their bolts, and squeezed their trigger; firing off another round. She nodded sagely.

"WHERE'S OUR MG?!" Robert called out, as he slammed in a strip magazine.

"On the other side of the city! John wanted them on the most likely point of attack!" A soldier shakily answered back.

Robert growled annoyedly; "Most likely point of attack my ass! -They're attacking from every direction!" He gritted his teeth.

"They aren't stopping! There's so many of them!" A soldier nervously shouted, as normally, a buffalo raiding party would've fled by now.

"I knew this was a bad idea! We have to fall back!" Robert shouted towards Bromhead, who hesitated at the request.

Amid the panic, a spear whistled through the air towards them; narrowly missing a griffon's head, but instead lodging itself deep into the griffon's shoulder. He screamed.

"WHAT ARE YOU HESITATING FOR?! -Y'KNOW WHAT! I'M GIVING THE ORDER!" Robert growled out, as he leapt into the air to garner attention.

"ALL MEN FALL BACK INTO THE CITY'S INTERIORS! OUR DEFENCE HERE IS UNTANNABLE!" He shouted as he flew along the barricades; prompting the soldiers guarding them to carry a pony and take flight towards the inner defences.

As Robert neared John's side of the barricades, he noticed the dire situation they were in. The minotaurs had hurled a volley of spears at a specific point of the barricades; causing the griffons and ponies hiding behind them to become red, bloody soup.

Upon spotting John carrying an injured griffon, Robert immediately dived towards him; skidding dangerously close to him as he did. "We're falling back to the inner defences. Carry as many injured men and ponies as you can towards it." He informed.

John's expressions darkened, "...We don't have enough men to carry such amount..." His grasp tightened on the wounded soldier he was supporting. "...Who will take priority?"

Robert eyed the shaking ponies in his peripherals cautiously, "...The ones who can fight..." He muttered.

They both silently nodded to each other, and cautioned themselves, "No word of this will ever go out..."

---

Zulu: Inner city

Sporadic fighting towards the inner cities continued, with soldiers desperately fighting to keep the minotaurs at bay; buying time for the ponies and their comrades to fall back.

Among the fighting and the carcasses of the minotaur warriors, a horn stuck out. It remained there until the fighting moved forwards; the distant sounds of guns and spears prompting the horn to move.

"Blegh..." The muffled unicorn muttered as she pushed the corpse of the minotaur aside; carefully avoiding the blood gushing from its head.

She looked around, making sure her coast was clear and began quietly trotting towards the exit. "I won't survive another minute with those insane griffons..." She noted, "There's a better chance of survival leaving them than remaining!" she reasoned, as she began to turn a corner on the streets.

*Cough!* *Cough!*

The unicorn snapped towards the sound, as her hooves froze mid-motion. Her eyes widened at the sight of a bloodied griffon, whose torso had been impaled horribly by a minotaur spear.

"You... What's your name..?" The griffon wheezed out, as he coughed up the blood filling his lungs.

The unicorn placed her hooves down, and relaxed her gaze, "Arc... Arc Hoan." She cautiously said.

"Could you- *cough* do me a favour?" the griffon pleaded, as he shakily revealed a note.

Arc hesitated but took the note anyways with her telekinesis. "What may this be?" She asked as she eyed the note. It read: To Marie Kane

"Deliver... To my commander..." the griffon painfully coughed out, "He knows... Where my wife... Lives... The griffon's eyes fluttered, and eventually, it closed; his chest no longer lifting; no longer breathing.

Arc became conflicted; her original goals of self-preservation becoming somewhat thwarted by moral responsibility. "It's right to flee from insanity... But is it right to deny a soldier's last wishes..?" Arc contemplated, as memories of fellow battle mages at their final moments flashed into her mind.

"...I need to go back..." She decided as she glanced at the note to convince herself of the task, but then, she realised something was written at the back of the note.

Our guns are enchanted and engineered to ward off magic or non-griffons. I've used what little magic I have left to disable them temporarily; doing so permanently is practically impossible. It's still engineered to explode if tampered with or opened, so don't even try it.

All hail our Emperors! And my personal apology to Emperor Mauser and my dearest wife.

Arc eyed the note, and the deceased griffon repeatedly until her gaze landed on his gun. She tested its enchantments and found the griffon's words somewhat true, as any attempts to disable the enchantments were met with failure.

"Griffon magic... As stubborn as the race..." She noted, as any further attempts seemed to cause it to imminently implode. "Whoever designed this must be paranoid..."

She circled the gun until her gaze landed on its marking: MAXIM

Arc's aura surrounded the gun, as well as the belt of ammunition feeding it. "...Let's see what you can do..."

---

Inner city: Final barricades

A shot rang out.

"WHERE'S OUR MG?!" Bromhead snapped, as he cocked his bolt.

Robert backed into Bromhead; their positions having been surrounded. "John has 'em! Haven't seen him since we fell back here!"

A minotaur warrior charged Bromhead, who swiftly dispatched him with a shot from his rifle. "WELL GOD-DAMMIT!" He cocked his bolt, "WE ARE NOT GOING TO BE WRITTEN DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE FIRST GERMANS TO BE WIPED OUT BY SAVAGES!" Bromhead whipped his gun towards another minotaur.

His gun clicked.

Robert's face paled as Robert's gun clicked as well. They ran out of ammo.

"ARGHHHH!" A minotaur roared, as he charged the defenceless griffons, who all lunged to the side to avoid his swipe.

Bromhead hurriedly fixed his bayonet whilst Robert lunged at the minotaur as a distraction; bayonet-in-beak. "HAVE AT YA!" He screamed.

Robert was swiftly punched by the minotaur; causing an audible crack to resonate from his fractured beak. However, his pain was rewarded by Bromhead's lunge towards the minotaur; his bayonet firmly impaled into the minotaur's heart.

Robert quickly rose up; his adrenaline willing him to do so. "Guess this will be our grave..." He gloomed, as he rubbed his aching, and crooked beak.

Bromhead was silent, as he pointed his rifle aimlessly towards the incoming noises; their backs turned towards a wall. He swallowed nervously as the minotaur warriors began encircling them as they spilled out from the corners of the streets.

"Y'know, the prospects of 'taking as many down before we die' is less appealing when you are in one," Robert muttered as he swung his bayonet wildly towards the encroaching warriors.

Bromhead looked up for an opportunity to escape but was stopped by the piercing pain of the hole in his wings. He hissed at his misfortunes, as a minotaur's spear had lodged into his wings during their retreat. He glanced at Robert's perfectly fine wings for the last time.

"Aren't you going to escape? You could just fly away y'know." Bromhead offered but was answered by Robert's glare.

"You could've suggested that before we got surrounded." Robert growled, "I stuck by you to offer a claw, but now we're too late... You should've ordered the retreat ages ago..."

In immaculate timing, a fleeing griffon was shot down by a spear; the clear, vast skies becoming a deathtrap for any fliers.

"Now... Let's just get this all over with..." Robert sighed as he focused on the minotaurs, "Hopefully the ponies can get out of this... No matter how unlikely that may be..."

Bromhead blankly nodded as the minotaurs began to slowly approach and stop at a short distance; raising their spears to barrage them with an inescapable volley.

"...Guess they'll be having kebabs..." Robert muttered, as his stance loosened and his grip on his bayonet weakened. Meanwhile, Bromhead futilely stared at the assembled minotaurs. This was it.
...
...
Time seemed to slow, as the minotaurs meticulously lifted their spears to a motion of a throw.
...
...
After glancing at their uniquely patterned shields for the last time, the two griffons closed their eyes.
...
...
The phantom noises of spears twirling and whizzing through the air could be heard by the griffons; their minds playing tricks in expectations of their fate.
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
They definitely did not expect the chug of a maxim machine gun to break their silence.

The minotaurs tried to turn, but the hail of bullets gave no quarter nor opportunity for the victims to witness their killer, as they are all mowed down by the furious metal beast; whose roar brought joy to the griffons that were saved by it.

As the bodies of the minotaurs fell and uncurtained their saviour, Robert and Bromhead immediately ran forwards; expecting to see John. Their surprise when they realised their saviour had the frame of a pony and was revealed to be a unicorn up-close.

Their eyes widened in shock, whilst the unicorn remained amazed and horrified at the effectiveness of the gun. Meanwhile, Emperor Mauser felt the biggest migraine of his life; one which he knew was an instinctual reaction to something or someone screwing with his inventions. Bismarck, however, has doubts, as correlation never meant causation.

"YOU- WHAT-?!" Robert sputtered; thinking his eyes were betraying him.

Arc shook her head, and faced the confused Robert firmly, "What? What did I do?" She asked in mock confusion.

"Where's John?" Bromhead asked nervously, as he began to suspect the worst.

Arc dug into her saddlebag and presented a note, causing Bromhead to fall to his knees whilst Robert froze and became silent.

Arc's expressions turned into one of sorrow. She never liked doing these... But she knew it was her duty as a battlemage and soldier... "This note belongs to John... He wanted you to give it to his wife..."

Bromhead shakily grasped the note and tucked it into his coat. He looked up at the unicorn with tears. "...Thank you..."

Arc gave Bromhead an understanding smile, and coincidentally, the enchantment on the machine gun returned; causing it to fall out of the unicorn's magic.

Robert lunged towards the machine gun; making sure that it was unchanged and functional. "Cliché over, let's get down to business people! There are lives to save!"

Bromhead glared at Robert angrily for his lack of empathy whilst Arc raised a brow at the griffon's 'directness'.

"What?" Robert shrugged ignorantly, "Oh! I meant to save the griffons and ponies! Not the minotaurs! They gotta die!" Robert smiled in his correction, whilst Bromhead's frown deepened.

"That's not why I'm mad... BUT LET'S GO!" Bromhead led the charge, as he galloped towards the other parts of the barricades. Robert and Arc swiftly followed.

They had some patties to pulverise.

---

The griffons would be victorious, and the German Empire would grow. But the subsequent battles and casualties would teach and deter any further 'prospectors'.

The conflict, or more accurately, the skirmish would be named the German-Minotaurian war by the Germans whilst the minotaurs would call it the war of Eastern Griffon Aggression. Both sides would claim victory, but neither side had truly won.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

11773646
Uh huh

[Radical Centrist]

deleted my previous comment 'cause it seemed to be worded extremely poorly, and wanted to avoid confusion...

Esssentially, I was tryna outsource my gaslighting to y'all