Heng IX

PA – June

A couple days later found Heng at the edge of the forest overlooking the city once more. But this time, there were more than the immortals there with him.

Surrounding him on all sides was an army of warriors, made up of people from all five of their tribes. From Leysrit’s Survivors, to Ivan’s Mohawks, to Jing’s Peacekeepers, to Michael’s Liberators, to even Heng’s own Hunters. All of their armies had gathered today under one battle.

A battle which would soon begin. In just a few hours Michael, Ivan, Leysrit, and Jing would all be leading their united armies in a charge to blitz the city and kill the King residing within.

Heng, on the other hand, would remain outside the city, to give them a back exit and warn them of any reinforcements. As the person with the least amount of experience in battle (i.e. none), it was decided he would be the one to watch their flank.

In his hand he held a horn, which he’d been drilled on a series of signals to make for whatever happened. The bison’s horn was painted with green and orange stripes. It had once been a hunting horn used by his own people, but now that it was in his hands it had become a warhorn, to direct armies in battle.

While he waited for the battle to begin, he’d climbed a tree, sitting on a sturdy branch that allowed him to overlook the whole city. From this high up he could even (barely) see over the city walls, watching the faint outlines of the city’s guards shuffle about atop the walls.

Far beneath him on the ground the warriors of the various tribes moved about, preparing for war. They hefted their weapons, and donned their war paint, and spoke quiet, personal prayers. A hushed, nervous energy had permeated the army, leaving everyone wary and uncomfortable, despite everything.

It got to him as well.

Nothing had happened yet, and yet Heng felt awful. Like he’d suddenly been drafted by the army, except they decided that for some arbitrary reason he should a general and put him in charge of planning the who operation—without giving him even the slightest bit of training.

Which is basically what happened, now that he thought about it.

There were some five hundred people standing beneath him, and if he fucked up they could all be dead by tonight.

“Heng!” he heard from beneath him. Glancing down, he saw Leysrit waving up to him. “We’re almost ready. Once I’m at the front of the army, give the signal to charge, got it?”

“How will I know when you’re there?” he called back. “Will you send a signal or something?”

“Just count to one-hundred,” she called back. “I should be at the front by then.”

“You should be there!?” he shot back, a little hysterically. “Isn’t this all a bit too important to leave at ‘should?’”

“It’ll be fine. If you’re that worried you can just wait another minute.”

And then she left, leaving him up there on the tree, alone.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. A wave of nausea washed over him, but he forced it down as much as he could. He just needed to count. Just count.

1… 2… 3… 4…

The numbers helped him calm down somewhat. As he focused on nothing but the counting, it was like the rest of the world began to slip away. It was almost relaxing, in a way.

70… 71… 72… 73…

His sweaty palms grasped the horn tightly, bringing it up to his lips. It was almost time.

97… 98… 99… 100.

He didn’t think about it anymore. He couldn’t let himself, or else he might chicken out entirely. He took a deep breath, and blew.

The sound of the horn echoed throughout the forest. The birds in the trees near him exploded into motion, taking off into the sky, while down beneath him, the army began to move.

It started slow. A calm, orderly march, which soon began to speed up. And then the warriors began to move faster, and faster, and soon as he watched the hundreds of tribesmen were charging beneath him, pouring out of the forest in a massive horde, their bellowing war cries slamming into his head like a drum. In what felt like an eternity they stampeded beneath him, and yet somehow it was also over in an instant, leaving him watching the backs of their warriors as they charged out of the forest.

The group was loud, a tide of men and women numbering in the hundreds, running forward as a single tide. Immediately they were noticed, the group so loud and obvious it would take someone both blind and deaf to not have. The few civilians outside of the city immediately ran inside the walls, while above them the city’s guards scrambled into position.

As the warriors charged closer the guards started chucking stones at them, their slings allowing them a range that would have been impossible otherwise. Heng winced as he watched as a few people begin to drop, the guards atop the walls not needing to be accurate with a group so large.

He felt a bit guilty for it, but he was grateful none of his own people were out there, instead sitting as a reserve in the forest.

The roaring charge halted suddenly, backpedaling out of range of the slingers. And the guards on the wall, growing more sure of themselves now that they had repelled the first charge, began firing more and more, confidently wasting ammo in order to keep the army at a comfortable distance.

Too bad they hadn’t yet realized it was a trap.

The large force currently bearing down on the south gate was not the true thrust of the attack—they were a feint, led by Leysrit to gain the attention of the city guards all on one side. And from his spot hidden in the woods Heng could see it happen, as guards abandoned their posts on the north side of the wall to come help their brothers in arms at the south gate.

Heng raised his horn to his mouth, and blew.

The sound rolled over the clearing, and after a moment of pause, their army began a slow, methodical retreat back into the forest.

The guards atop the walls—doomed fools that they were—threw their hands up, in what Heng could only imagine to be celebrating their ‘victory.’

And the guards, distracted, missed when the true thrust of the attack came from the north—an army of two dozen warriors led by Michael, Jing and Ivan charged from the other side of the forest, rocketing across the open plains surrounding the city and reaching the walls within an instant. Held in several of their hands was a makeshift battering ram made from a cut down tree, and with an earth shattering ‘CRASH’ that he could hear from all the way from where he was standing, they burst through the walls in a single thunderous charge.

Suddenly the two dozen warriors led by their immortal leaders were in the city completely unopposed.

And Heng knew the battle had already been won.

He blew his horn again, once, twice, and the army that had been retreating away from the city suddenly stopped, turning and resuming their charge towards the city.

The guards, shocked and confused, attempted to recreate their original act of rebuffing the army.

Unfortunately, they were stymied by the immortal warriors charging them from the rear, and unable to defend both the walls and themselves, they soon fell, leaving Michael’s group in control of the walls.

The southern gate opened wide soon after, allowing the hundreds of warriors to pour into the city unopposed.

It was impossible, but faintly, he could swear he heard screams.

People would die today. Not just his own, and not just his allies, but people in that city too. Civilians, who’d done nothing wrong. Soldiers, just trying to defend their homes. A King—no, a person from their own world, who’d never even knew they existed, who couldn’t have known them as an enemy.

This wasn’t in defense of anything. It wasn’t to protect other cities from the King’s army—Michael was probably planning to attack them next anyway. This wasn’t an act of mercy, or justice, or righteousness.

No, they were only here to kill people. To destroy lives and livelihoods.

They were here to destroy civilization. …Heh, its kind of funny. It only just sunk in now what that really meant.

People were dying. The city is being destroyed.

And he was just sitting there.

Watching.

Bile rose in his throat, and before he knew it, he’d emptied the contents of his breakfast. Blindly he groped for the trunk of the tree, forcing himself to remain steady so that he wouldn’t fall.

“Chieftain!?” he heard from below. Blearily, he looked down, seeing Šóta the medicine man looking up at him frantically. “Chieftain, are you alright!?”

Heng opened his mouth, and then closed it. “…No,” he rasped. “No, I don’t think I am.”

But he’d already come this far. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t stop now.

He blinked the tears out of his eyes, and forced himself to look back at the city.

The city which was currently on fire.

It seemed that Michael’s plan to ‘destroy all civilization’ was much more literal than he’d imagined. As he watched, the city walls began to collapse, knocked down from the inside by their rampaging warriors. As he continued to watch, the city slowly seemed to collapse where it stood.

…It hadn’t felt real until now. What they were doing. But watching the city burn, seeing what his actions had wrought…

He managed to stop himself from puking again. But only barely.

Time seemed to move slowly as he forced himself to continue watching the city. To make sure he understood what it was they were doing.

But, eventually, it had to end.

The warriors began flooding out of the city, much more orderly and calmly then how they went in. On their backs they carried goods looted from the city, ranging from pots, to animals, to even—horrifyingly enough—people.

He’d be having a damn word with Michael about that one, regardless of the consequences.

And speak of the devil, there he was—marching up in the middle of the pack, a pig’s carcass hanging from his back, looking like somebody had gone and shat in his cereal.

“Michael!” Heng shouted, jumping down from his tree. He stumbled a bit, but thankfully Šóta was there to catch him. “Michael! What the hell was that!? What the hell happened!?”

“Justice,” the man spat, still looking distinctly unpleased. “Unfortunately, we weren’t able to be thorough, though hopefully we’ll get to fix that soon enough.”

“That wasn’t thorough…?” Heng asked incredulously, glancing over at the still-burning city.

“Michael!” he heard someone suddenly shout. Glancing around, he saw Ivan making his way over, shuffling around the much smaller warriors between them. “What of the King?” Ivan continued to shout, the massive man stumbling up to them. “Did you find him!?”

“He’s not here,” Michael growled, turning away with a scoff. “And neither, it seems, was his army. I asked one of the locals where they were—apparently, they’d long since marched further south to deal with another one of his conquests.”

Ivan swore, punching a nearby tree. “Damnit. I thought one of the others had gotten him—if I’d known he wasn’t there at all, I would have—”

“You would have done nothing,” Michael cut him off. “There’s nothing we could have done differently today. Rather, much as it may not feel like it, this was a victory.”

“What are we going to do about the city?” Heng asked, curious. “What will you do when the King comes back?”

“We’ll destroy it,” Michael replied viscously. “It’s better to raze it all to the ground here and now. Salt the fields and curse the earth. Make sure no city can ever be built here again. If the King comes back it won’t matter—he won’t find anything to come back to.”

Heng remained silent at that.

“…Hmph,” Ivan grunted. “Well, whatever. I’ll need to meet up with Jing and Leysrit soon, make sure everyone’s splitting the loot up properly.”

“Wait, that’s right! Michael, what the hell was that about? What are you planning to do with those people?” Heng asked sharply, stepping up close to the much taller man. “Those people who you dragged out of the city. The people who lived there. What’s going to happen to them, Michael?”

Michael’s lips twisted into something unpleasant, before he shook his head. “Don’t worry. The people who did take them will be… punished. I have no tolerance for whatever it is they planned to do with them, don’t worry about that. As for the people who were taken… it will be up to them to decide what will happen to them afterward.”

Heng gave him a long, hard glare, before stepping aside, allowing the man to continue past. “I’ll hold you to that, then.”

“Good,” Michael’s expression softened, just a little. “It’s always good to be reminded you have your head on straight.”

‘And it’s good to know yours is still loose as ever.’ He kept that thought to himself. Out loud, he asked, “So, what’s next? Are we all going to go our separate ways now?”

“Not quite,” Michael shook his head. “We still have to take care of that King.”

“You said he was to the south, yes?” Ivan rumbled. “So we plan to follow the river, then?”

“Aye,” Michael nodded, something dark stirring behind his eyes. “The two of you go inform your people of what comes next—starting tomorrow, we march south, destroying any sign of civilization we come across. By the end of the month, this Kingdom will be gone—and it’s corpse will be a warning to any who seek to follow in its footsteps. This is a pure world, untouched by man’s corruption. And by my blade, it will stay that way forever.”

9,867 God-Kings Remain