an unfortunate change in genre

Part 35

Ever move your body beyond exhaustion?

It never seemed to end. No matter how he struck, no matter how hard he fought, no matter how many small victories there were, the overwhelming forces against him left him raw and empty.

It reminded him of all those years on the battlefield, drowning in blood and alcohol as his world swirled so far out of his control that the only thing he could do was to move his body beyond that state of exhaustion and into the numbness found at the other side.

He was dimly aware of his own body begging for mercy. A break. A moment's reprieve.

Less blood. Less death.

Most of the bear tribesmen were just following orders. Even a few of the black mages had likely been dragged into a war beyond their understanding and found power in a place ill-equipped for humanity.

It wasn't that Cale had any sympathy for any of them. He wasn't that sort of person. They were the enemy and he was a soldier. They were the ones who aggressed and he would kill all of them a thousand times over to protect his precious family.

It was just that he could feel just a bit of empathy for it.

It was hard not to when you were a soldier for as long as he was. The hyper awareness that you were just a cog in a wheel that spun outside of your understanding and the vast majority of your enemies were the same in that specific way.

He could feel the empathy without a drop of sympathy.

Even the empathy dried up when the golems began their assault though.

They were still doing everything they could to defend against them without any major loss of life, or in the worst case, allowing those monstrosities inside of the city gates.

They had to be careful not to destroy them either. At least not until they were prepared to handle the consequences of doing so.

Cale was hardly strong enough to go toe-to-toe with even one golem and now that he was surrounded by half a dozen, it was everything he could do just to survive until the next moment.

One heavy fist that could shatter the ground below missed him by mere inches as he moved to counterattack, his body moving more or less on instinct at this point.

There really was only so much they could manage. The monstrous strength of the golems made everything else pale in comparison and–

–and Roksu's shield had disappeared–

Cale wanted to believe it was because his stupid younger brother had kept his word. That he hadn't over-extended himself and was rationally resting while other people took a turn.

It was a hard lie to swallow.

Cale didn't believe it. Not for a second. He knew Roksu better than anyone else and he knew that his brother wouldn't keep his promise.

Something terrible had happened.

And his exhausted body had no other choice but to continue the task in front of him.

If the gate was breached, they were done. The bears and the mages would certainly do unimaginable damage but it was those golems–

And the black despair lurking inside of them, powering them.

Cale had witnessed what happened to cities after the golems were allowed to bleed their poisonous black ooze.

Nothing could survive there.

At the least, the vitality of heart kept him moving. Every time he truly felt that he'd reached his limit and he couldn't move another second longer, the ancient power flooded through him with its miraculous healing strength.