From beyond the dunes, dozens of hounds rushed forward. Their white skin stood out against the sand they dashed over. One of the lowest forms a Qilesh could take. Xrrons. Common beasts meant to throw themselves at the enemies, sacrificing their lives to weaken the frontline for the actual soldiers to strike.
The Xrrons were forced to turn their arms into legs, running on six limbs. Their heads were molded to imitate an arrowhead, symbolizing their function. Black strips formed a collar around their necks and chains spreading all over their bodies, binding them to their masters. These beasts had no individuality, all formed after the same ideal. Their maws were filled with rows of hooked fangs. Whatever they bit down onto, they would not let go. If forced off, flesh would rip apart, ensuring their victim would bleed to death. The membranes on their backs were cut off, and their fins had been withered into poor small things, barely enough to breathe with.
Xrrons had no intellect, their minds never allowed to develop. They had no motivation besides their endless hunger. Once unleashed, they would not stop until they filled their belly or they had fulfilled their duty, dying a pointless death.
Liron grabbed his black blade. One hau, and one of the beasts would die. But should they surge him, he knew he would be torn apart. But there would be no need for a confrontation. The Xrrons ran into their buried bombs, triggering the mines. Explosions ripped through the sand, devastating their ranks. Only a few strugglers survived, their bodies ravaged. They managed a few steps before collapsing.
No one mourned their death. The Soulsmiths hammered their anvils to send the next wave of Xrrons. The army should not have a large arsenal of them. They were more trouble than use in higher numbers. Their limited mind made it difficult to control them. No claim of divine purpose had an effect on them. All promises to serve the Silver Moon fell on deaf ears.
This new wave would be their last Xrrons. Thus, they decided to make good use of them. The Qa'an gave an order through his Soulsmiths. Never stopping their dash, they danced their flesh, adjusting their heads and paws, turning into a ram. They leaped into the air, slamming down onto the sand headfirst. Their new limbs made them ideal diggers, burying themselves into the ground.
Swimming through the sand like water, they dug their way forward, triggering the rest of the bombs. But more than during the previous attempt, a handful emerged from the sand, reaching Al Pakris. Besides storming their enemies and weakening the frontline with their corpses and blood, Xrrons served a distinct purpose. Collecting information on the enemies' resources, their troops, and their camp. Information the Qa'an would need to properly evolve its army.
But Zonis knew the Qyoral's approach all too well. Liron and Shae hurried out of their hideout. Emma had hidden them with their illusion, summoning debris around them. Thanks to their sparring, Liron had improved his usage of his explosion. He cast them down at his feet, accelerating his speed. Unlike flinging himself through the air, he kept control over his motions while moving like no mortal boy should.
He slipped past two Xrrons, decapitating them before they knew he had attacked them. Three more jerked towards them. Seeing these beasts up close turned his stomach. Saliva poured out of their snouts. They hadn't eaten in days. The Qa'an had starved them to increase their battle mania.
Lacking any restraint, they threw themselves at Liron, dancing their flesh to spread their maws like a snake's. Dozens of knives pointed at them, seeking to taste his blood. Liron's nerves ached under the pressure of what awaited them, but his training had schooled his instincts. Moving without thought, he used his explosion to dodge the Xrrons, casting a smoke sickle by performing a hau. His Magic carried forward his slash, cleaving all three Xrrons apart.
Liron needed to use as little energy as possible. This day promised to be a long one, and he didn't have the luxury to waste anything on killing these common beasts. Shae proved herself more experienced than Liron, tearing apart twice as many Xrrons as him. The few remaining ones died shortly after, cut down without mercy.
The Qa'an watched his troops dying, crying them no tears. Liron and Shae moved backward, vanishing thanks to Emma's illusion. Despite their demise, they had served their purpose. The Qa'an had learned of his enemies' capabilities. But with its hounds gone, Emma's illusions would become more useful. She could deceive sight and hearing, but smell remained outside her control. As the hounds they mimicked, Xrrons had noses that would catch the slightest scent, making them perfect to pursue.
The beginning exchange had concluded. The Qa'an folded its hands behind its back, barking a command to its Soulsmiths. They followed their master, letting their tortured choir sound.
Liron swiped away the sweat on his forehead, gritting his teeth. The ground shook as hundreds of feet trample over it. He gave the dune a last look before it vanished underneath the charging Qilesh.
The Qyoral's soldiers stormed forward, roaring in their alien language, guttural and hoarse screams surging over Al Pakris. The sheer numbers of them rattled Liron. He stumbled backwards, staring at their approach. Zonis' warning, one he had known to be truthful, gained a new depth to it.
There was a difference between understanding something and feeling it. Liron could understand Angin describing the theories behind the birth of the stars itself or the inner workings of Magic and Alchemy. He could listen to them describing the horrors of this war and the many crimes of the Empire. But these words would remain distant. Things he could grasp but fail to comprehend their importance. Only upon seeing and facing himself did his heart come to realize the weight of it.
Zonis had spoken the truth. The weight of the house would crush him. The fleeting moment he would endure its weight offered him no respite. Only continued suffering before death released him from his agony.
Despite their sheer force, the Qa'an held back the majority of their army. It still wanted to know more about its enemies, guessing more traps to await them than the mines. A correct one. Zonis danced his flesh, turning his mouth into a beak. He let out a long and raspy cry. The sky answered, shadows soaring at them from far above. They descended, positioning themselves behind the Silver Moon, taking advantage of its shine. If one were to try to look at them, the Silverlight would blind them.
The beasts would require a moment to arrive. The Whisperer transformed his mouth yet again, splitting it into two. A shorted beak and one resembling the one of an insect. He punched the ground, pressing his head into the sand as he called out of both of them.
The bombs had served two purposes. One, to rid themselves of the Xrrons but also to loosen the ground and waken up the ones sleeping deep below. Zonis had chosen Al Pakris for several reasons. One of them was that many greater beasts slumbered near it.
Several heads emerged out of the ground. Tortoises squeaked, fearing upon Zonis' warnings. Next to them, Blackshield scorpions exploded out from the sand, ready to engage their predator. Several Qilesh were flung into the air as the beasts dug themselves up. Surrounded by the Fleshdancer, the tortoises and scorpions went into a rage, knowing the Qilesh to be their enemies.
Before they could adjust, the beasts rampaged through their ranks, throwing their weight around to crush as many of them as possible. The Soulsmiths responded to the ambush, commanding the Qilesh to adjust to their new enemies. Instead of striking the beasts without thought, they turned their limbs slender, like slithering snakes, perfect to slip through the armor of the animals and reach their weak spots.
Fortune did not side with them, though, as the birds of prey reached them. While they would have preferred to strike the tortoises, the birds recognized the Qilesh for the threat they posed. Their talons clawed through their ranks, dozens torn to shreds. Liron shuddered as he saw these beasts for the first time in full.
Pride adorned the birds like their long feathers. Similar to eagles, but these beasts lacked the majestic beauty that would make one want to be near them. Their thin and stretched necks were covered in scars. Their short beaks had a hooked end to them, a cleaver to devastate their foes. The beaks were not simply attached to their heads, but they had spread over their heads like a helmet, protecting them as they used their long necks to hammer down their heads onto the Qilesh. They possessed four legs, their talons resembling a human hand, allowing them to precisely slash and grab onto their prey. Their wings were towering, and massive compared to their bodies, brimming with vigor. Without them, they couldn't bring their muscular bodies and frame into their air. It also enabled them to use their wings as additional weapons, another set of talons attached at each end of them.
Every single part of their body honed to be lethal, striking with them in an endless barrage at the Qilesh. Zonis called them vultures. Watching them slaughter through the Fleshdancer, Liron understood why the Whisperer had feared them. It required such beasts to strike fear into giants like the tortoises and scorpions.
For once, prey and predator fought alongside each other. The vultures would never allow their food to be taken by the Qilesh, too proud to accept an easy defeat. The wolves and their rampage in the Kupferrang appeared as light work compared to these. Sannara had birthed crueler beasts, indeed.
The Qa'an watched its troops perish, sending out the next waves of soldiers. But Liron could pay them no mind, as dozens of Qilesh ignored the beasts. Their original command carved into their minds, they rushed towards Al Pakris.