Chapter 112: The New Era
Black smoke and sulfurous mist hung thick over the plaza of the old settlement, mingled with the pungent stench of blood and scorched flesh. Of the one hundred and sixty warriors who had charged through the gates, barely thirty remained standing, coughing blood and staggering in panic among the craters and mangled bodies.
From the upper rock ledge, Kellar extended his arm and pointed toward the chaos in the plaza.
"Mark," said Kellar, his voice calm yet sharp. "Show what your people are made of. Clear the plaza."
"Charge!" shouted Mark, raising his reinforced-tip spear. "For the Overlord Tribe!"
The fifteen former nobles hurled themselves down the hill with a ferocious roar. They formed a tight wall of wooden shields and spears, slamming into the surviving barbarians before they could reorganize. Mark drove his spear through the chest of the first Black Skull officer with a precise thrust, while his men finished off the wounded and held the perimeter with a discipline born of pure survival instinct.
In the center of the yard, a gust of greenish vapor repelled the flames from one of the craters. The Black Skull Tribe’s shaman emerged from the smoke with his robes torn, clutching the blue-gemmed skull that hummed with a hysterical glow. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Kellar, who was calmly walking down the stone ramp flanked by Krag and Grok.
"Curse you, demon of the south!" said the enemy shaman, spitting a string of black saliva. "You will pay for every drop of blood with your soul!"
The sorcerer opened his mouth to release a mouthful of toxic smoke, hurling the floating skull straight at Kellar’s chest.
Kellar didn’t blink. With a fluid motion, he drew his hand crossbow loaded with a conical-tip bolt and struck the friction match on the rail.
"Too slow," said Kellar, pulling the trigger.
The bolt flew through the mass of green gas, striking dead-center against the forehead of the floating skull. The small charge of draconic gunpowder embedded in the tip exploded shattering the relic into a thousand pieces of bone and bluish gems. The shockwave of the micro-blast forced the cloud of toxic smoke back into the shaman’s own throat.
The sorcerer fell to his knees, choking on his own magical poison as he clutched his neck in agony. Kellar walked slowly until he stopped directly in front of him, reloading a new iron projectile.
"Your magic belonged to the past," said Kellar, aiming the crossbow directly at the sorcerer’s head. "Welcome to the new era."
A sharp crack echoed through the yard, silencing the Black Skull Tribe’s shaman forever.
Upon seeing their spiritual leader fall, the last remaining barbarians threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees among the corpses. Mark wiped the blood from his face with his forearm and planted his spear into the dirt, looking up at Kellar with his chest heaving.
"The plaza is clear, Great Shaman," said Mark, offering a deep bow.
Kellar surveyed the smoking ruins of the old settlement, observing his hunters, Lennis’s builders, and Mark’s faction all standing together beneath the same banner.
"Search the area and finish off anyone who is still breathing," said Kellar, walking over the debris with a firm stride.
Krag and the hunters began roaming the yard, turning over the corpses with the tips of their spears. Amid the piles of scorched bodies, they discovered nearly a dozen enemy warriors pretending to be dead. Upon being uncovered, some began to weep desperately, begging to join the Overlord Tribe, while others swore they had been forced to march by the shaman.
Kellar observed them in silence, without a trace of mercy on his face.
"I have no need for men who fake death on the battlefield, nor cowards who betray their clan at the first sign of defeat," said Kellar, turning around without hesitation. "Execute them all."
The spears came down without pity, smothering the final screams and demonstrating their leader’s relentless coldness. Once the yard fell into silence, Kellar stepped onto a high rock and gathered the entire tribe before him.
"Today you fought like true warriors," said Kellar, looking over the veterans, the builders, and Mark’s faction. "You have defended your home with blood and iron. But this does not end here. It is time to collect our debts. Prepare yourselves: we march now to the Black Skull bastion to plunder their riches and claim what is ours."
A deafening roar echoed against the mountains. For the first time in their lives, the people of the settlement were not the terrified victims waiting to be slaughtered; now they were the unstoppable force marching to crush their enemies.
"Lennis, Mentz, you will stay in charge of clearing the area along with a few trusted hunters," said Kellar, pointing toward the smoking ruins of the old settlement. "Bring up more hands from the village below, anyone who is strong. It’s time for the rest to put in work, as I believed every man here had stepped up to fight."
Lennis and Mentz bowed their heads immediately, organizing the small guard that would remain behind to secure the equipment and structures.
Meanwhile, the main assault party finished forming up in the center of the yard. Krag, Grok, and Brak took the lead to guide the way through the defile, followed by Mark and his fifteen men, who gripped their spears with a newly discovered ferocity. With nearly every warrior lined up and morale sky-high, the Overlord Tribe’s strike force set out toward the Black Skull bastion.
"Drag the bodies over to this area!" shouted Lennis, pointing toward a clear patch of ground in the center of the yard. "We will build a bonfire to burn them all! Bring every man who is still healthy! And if they don’t want to come, drag them here with shoves!"
A few minutes later, the builders returned herding a group of villagers who had barricaded themselves inside the lower huts. They carried pale faces of pure terror, fearing that the battle was still raging; however, upon stepping into the old settlement’s plaza and witnessing the colossal slaughter, they froze in their tracks. A sepulchral silence fell over them as they stared at the over one hundred enemy corpses and the blackened dirt consumed by fire.
"How... how could you do this?" said one of the young men, his eyes wide in disbelief and his voice trembling with a mix of shock and excitement. "Could we... could we also learn how to do that?"