Captain Valen sat high in his saddle, the leather of his gloves creaking as he adjusted the brass spyglass.
His gaze passed over the treeline, swept across the Frozen Plains beyond, measuring the empty ground and the wind-cut distance. Then he drew it back, letting it settle on his own men below.
"They're quiet." He lowered the spyglass. "Something has them under control."
Beside him, the Sergeant adjusted his grip on the spear. "Fifty men, sir. Holding a line meant for twice that. Hard to say if they'll hold through the first charge."
Valen gave a slight nod. "Then we'll see."
——
The Vanguard marched.
They halted at the edge of the Frozen Plains. Boots sank into crusted snow. Men shifted in place, breath coming out sharp and white. The air was thick with sweat, damp cloth, and the stale smell of bodies waiting too long to move.
Kael sat on a cold stone near the rear of the formation, away from the others. The stone pulled heat from him through the thin layers of cloth. He kept his hands still, fingers resting where the weapon lay hidden, aware of every breath around him.
Nearby men avoided looking at one another. Boots shifted, leather creaked, then stilled again. The air felt heavy, like clouds gathering too low and too fast.
Behind them, thirty paces back, the overseers stood watching. Beyond them, the main force waited nearly a hundred meters away, banners slack in the wind.
The silence didn't last.
From the blowing snow ahead came a sound—a rhythmic, guttural chanting, followed by dull, heavy impacts landing again and again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The shouting came first, carried hard by the wind. Short cries overlapped with drawn-out howls, rising and falling without rhythm. The frozen ground shook under repeated impacts, boots and bare feet striking together, close enough to feel through the soles.
Shapes broke through the storm. Men emerged from the snow, spreading across the width of the plains as they advanced.
They were tall and broad, shoulders hunched against the cold. Pale skin showed between layers of fur and iron, scarred and reddened by frost. Breath burst from their mouths in thick clouds, hanging low before being torn apart by the wind. Hair was braided tight to their heads, stiff with ice.
"Rrrah!" The sound echoed in waves—Rrrah, then another, then many at once—hoarse and unbroken as they closed in.
Their faces were built for the cold. Cheekbones jutted sharply. Noses were wide and flattened. Skin lay thick and pale, split at the lips, raw around the eyes. Brows hung heavy over deep-set eyes, lashes clotted white with frost.
Their mouths stretched wide as they closed in, teeth bared. Jaws locked and released with each breath. Hoarse shouts tore out of them, broken and uneven, carried forward by the wind. Spittle sprayed and froze along beards and chins as the noise rolled closer.
Griggs stood beside Kael, his hands shaking around the spear. The shaft rattled against his grip.
"Fuck! Last time wasn't like this!"
He glanced down at Kael, his face pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the freezing wind.
"Stay behind me, runt," Griggs muttered, his voice cracking. "When they hit—just curl up. Maybe… maybe they'll pass you over."
A horn blew—a deep, mournful sound from the barbarian lines. The warriors already in motion pushed harder, legs churning again, the mass accelerating instead of breaking.
"Rrrragh—"
The ground shook. At least three hundred warriors drove the charge, the impact carrying through the frozen earth into Kael's boots.
"Brace!" the squad leader screamed, one of the older hands the Vanguard had pushed forward. "Spears up! Brace!"
The two lines met in a detonation.
The impact crushed the air itself. The force drove up through Kael's boots in a seismic surge, locking his knees and rattling his teeth. The front rank collapsed into motion, bodies compressed and forced out of shape under the weight.
Bodies slammed together with wet, crunching sounds as flesh met iron. Ash-wood spears burst apart on contact, exploding into jagged splinters that tore through the ranks like shrapnel.
Three paces to Kael's left, the space of the line distorted under the hit.
A barbarian struck the shield wall with the force of a siege ram. He carried straight through a soldier, mass and speed driving past the point of contact.
A sickening crunch followed—the wet pop of a ribcage collapsing inward. The soldier left the ground, his body thrown backward as the momentum reversed. He landed hard in the snow, limbs slack, soundless and still.
"Hold! Hold the line!" Griggs screamed, thrusting his spear blindly ahead.
The shout cut through the crush.
The mass in front of him surged. Bodies were thrown aside as something heavy drove straight through the ranks, forcing a path by sheer weight.
A giant broke into view. He stood a full head and shoulders above the barbarians around him, towering over men who barely reached his chest. His frame was a mountain of tattooed muscle and matted hair. A massive iron maul dragged at his side, its head slick with fresh gore.
The sound of the command pulled his attention. His head turned toward it at once, eyes fixing on Griggs. His lips pulled back, filed teeth flashing as a grin spread across his face.
Griggs saw it.He saw the giant's eyes lock onto him, felt that weight settle, heavy and final.
Something in him snapped.
His breath tore out of his chest in a harsh bark of sound. The spear shook violently in his hands as he lurched forward a half step, fear spilling over into something hotter and louder.
"Come on!" Griggs screamed, the words ripped raw from his throat. "Come on!"
Spittle flew from his mouth. His face twisted, eyes wide and wet, teeth bared as he roared again, louder this time, hurling the sound straight at the giant.
"COME ON!"
His feet stayed planted. His body shook. The fear stayed—but it burned now, turned outward, loud enough to drown itself for a heartbeat.
The giant surged forward.
Griggs screamed again and drove the spear with everything he had. SNAP. The point punched into the barbarian's belly, tearing through fur and skin, burying itself deep.
The shaft jolted hard as dense muscle closed around the blade, stopping it short. Blood spilled hot and dark over Griggs's hands.
The giant didn't slow.
The iron maul came down in the same breath. Its head dropped in a brutal arc, air screaming around it, filling Griggs's vision as it fell.
Impact followed.
BOOM!
Kael stepped out from the shadow behind Griggs.
A blast ripped across the battlefield.
The iron maul fell. The strike never landed.
The sound tore through the chaos, loud enough to cut over screams and steel, a concussive roar that rolled outward and forced heads to turn.
The giant's head burst apart in an instant. Bone, blood, and fragments of skull exploded outward, spraying across the snow and the bodies around him.
The massive frame lurched forward without direction, the maul slipping from slack fingers as the body collapsed in on itself.
The spear tore free as the weight vanished.
Griggs staggered back, drenched, choking, still screaming—then the sound died in his throat as he realized he was still breathing.
The massive frame lurched forward without direction, the maul slipping from slack fingers as the body collapsed into the snow.
Kael glanced at the Aether count.
The giant was still alive.
He stepped in, boots crunching into blood-soaked snow, and lowered the barrel. What was left of the giant's head filled his sight. He adjusted the angle and pulled the trigger again.
The second blast erased what remained of the head. Flesh, bone, and fragments vanished into a red mess across the snow, leaving only a ruined body slumped in place.
Aether+5
Kael looked down at Griggs.
The flat-nosed veteran was on his knees, staring up at Kael with eyes wide enough to show the whites all around. He looked at the dead giant, then at the smoking weapon.
Kael's face was expressionless. The cold wind blew the sulfur smoke past his cheek.
"Your spear is broken."
Kael reached back, pulled the spare spear from across his back, and shoved it into Griggs's hands. He turned toward the enemy line.
"Get up. We're not done."