Assembling the soldiers for a full attack before daybreak was a cardinal sin, according to the extremist variant of the Solinaye Church that had taken over the nation (or what little of the nation that yet survived). As such, the men did not do the reasonable and smart thing and instead prayed for several hours after waking until the sun began to come up. While praying is good and all, staying on your knees, especially on rocky ground but even on a rug, for several hours and not having eaten anything during that time is not conducive to preparing for a day-long battle. As a certain underwater Bikini Atoll resident would have proclaimed, breakfast was the most important meal of their day, and they missed it by hours.

Ultimately, this whole situation they put themselves in should have been only a one-time thing, but who knew for certain if such foolishness would survive the battle to come? Regardless, the Arbianans assembled at first dawn with shaky legs and hungry bellies. Some of them were not even able to reach their position, having fallen unconscious due to low blood sugar or simply being unable to move their legs after having spent hours on them. All in all, the number that assembled for what they expected to be a grand massacre was only around 80-90% of what it would have been.

The Sultanate’s military commanders gave one final cursory review of both their own formations and the defenses that their men were to be up against and ordered a full advance. This time, the Imperials would fall, crushed beneath the mighty feet and skewered by the graceful blades of the faithful and loyal servants of the Great Golden God himself. This time, nothing could go wrong!

And then, as you all most likely guessed, things started to go horribly wrong.

For the Arbianans, that is.

…

“Hold fast, everyone! We just need to keep our heads above the water for a little longer!”

The words yelled by the Sergeant from chapters prior could be head over the din of battle by the living in his immediate area. The undead, however, were neither good listeners nor did they care about such things. They had been commanded to hold the line at all costs, and these were not the kind of undead that did much critical thinking, so they did what they were told to by their Necromancer commanders. The living, on the other hand, were far more likely to break under the disproportionate strain they were feeling. When facing odds as great as they were, all the bravery in the world wouldn’t last too long against the grim reality of their current situation.

“Easy for you to say, Sir! But are you seeing this shit?!”

“I am, indeed, soldier! No need to fear, though. Nobody lives forever, with some exceptions, of course, so face possible death with courage and know that the cavalry is on its way. Now just stay calm and don’t try and raise anymore flags. There are a number of men still salty about what you said back there, you know?”

“But, sir, I thought you didn’t believe in flags!”

The Sergeant laughed heartily in response as he cut down another advancing Sultanate mook.

“I don’t, soldier! But while correlation does not imply causation, I have to admit that things have gone south. Still,” the Sergeant remarked as another thrust felled an enemy soldier whose weak legs caused him to effectively stumble into the blow, “I don’t blame you for what is happening. It was likely that we would have encountered these scumbags regardless of what you said at the time. Just, for the sake of your companions’ sanity, don’t say anything else. Morale is tight enough as it is and I would prefer that we not do or say anything to further agitate everyone.”

The soldier that the Sergeant was talking to nodded and pulled slightly back into the lines of his comrades. At first glance, this may have been seen as cowardice, but this was just the soldier in question getting enough breathing room to help out his comrades. He opened up a satchel and withdrew a small, baseball-sized black orb with a knob on the top that would not have looked out of place on a kitchen timer. The man then took a separate casing that kept the knob in place before twisting said knob and chucking the grenade into the mass of people that were assaulting his companions.

A few moments after being thrown and just as the grenade was about to descend deeper into the lines and start going between peoples’ heads, the device detonated, and a cloud of red mist flooded out from the detention point. The mist settled on those who were beneath it and filled the lungs of those who breathed it in and mere moments afterward the one who had come into contact with the mist screamed bloody murder and began to lash out in a blind berserker fury against anyone and everyone around them. This blind rage would have been bad enough for the cohesion of the enemy onslaught, but there was one teensy tiny little detail that made this little attack even worse for them.

For the most part, the only people nearby the frothing mad crazies were their own former comrades. As the madness took hold of some of the men behind their own lines, the Sultanate forces in the immediate area began to relax their attack on the Darksolian line as they tried to deal with the rabid men behind their own. This same scene both was playing out and had played out currently and prior in every other zone that was being fought over, but things were just getting started. The satchel contained quite a number of toys for the bearer to use, and the lines of the Arbianans were deep enough and clogged enough that a few more devices could be ‘field-tested’ in live combat.

Another few grenades were hurled into the mass of Sultanate goons, each grenade having different effects. One made all who smelled the stink it unleashed vomit like no tomorrow. Another one spread an insanely potent itching powder that caused some men affected by it to double over in agony as they managed to inhale it. But the best toy was the one that the nameless Darksolian soldier saved for last.

“Do you mind if I borrow your bow for a moment?” He asked, directing his question at a random archer who was nearby. The archer, having seen the kind of destruction that the grenadier was inflicting on the enemy couldn’t think of a decent reason to refuse, and so granted the unidentified man his bow. The soldier pulled his last toy from the satchel before laying it on the ground. At first glance, the object he withdrew appeared to be nothing more than an arrow with a large bulb near the base of the arrowhead, but it was so much more than that.

The soldier nocked the arrow and drew back the bow, internally calculating the arc he needed to fire at to cause maximum damage, or at least avoid harming his fellow Darksolian soldiers. With a single motion, he let the arrow fly and once it hit something, well, that was when the Sultanate soldiers really got scared.