Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 29 : Know Thy Enemy as Thyself

Omrai slept little. They'd marched quickly, and the army of metal warriors didn't follow. They only watched. Later, he sent scouts to survey the damage, hoping to gather the dead. They had not yet returned.

Memories of the battle—blades and musketballs piercing him, a crushing sensation over his body—threatened to overwhelm him. He flinched, pushing the feelings away. The guilt was almost crippling, threatening to take his legs out from beneath him. It was already strange that he could read others' emotions so well, he always could. But he hated the pain that came with the death of a soldier, whether one of his own, or an enemy.

And that was why he fought. He fought to reduce the pain in the world. Every enemy soldier he slew, he slew for peace. He protected his lands from those who would abuse it. He could meet with an enemy general and after a short discussion understand enough about the man to defeat him. That was why Omrai threw himself into the front lines. To understand his enemy. It filled him with a great deal of empathy, which he then used to destroy his enemies.

That was why he slaughtered so many noblemen during the rebellion. They didn't understand the pain they caused. That was why he cut off the old emperor's head. The man was a cruel and manipulative bastard.

And now, a new man wanted to be emperor of the world.

He turned to his men. "Make sure we have enough sentries, I don't want Jebuthar catching us in the night," Omrai said to one of his captains.

Captain Nock nodded. He breathed in and held it; mouth partially open. He had something more to say.

"What is it, Captain Nock?"

"It's just... sir... what do we do if they attack again?"

"We run."

"And when they've driven us to the western ocean?"

Omrai frowned also. "What would you have me do?"

The captain bowed slightly, "I don't know. I just wish we could fight them, but..."

"But their weapons are too powerful," Omrai said, "If we hadn't retreated when we did, I fear he would have slaughtered us to a man."

"I pray Shevidaro protects us." Captain Nock exhaled unsteadily. "After that... I barely made it sir."

Omrai nodded, sensing the man's anguish. He had lost many friends.

"High General Omrai Speartip!"

A scout stumbled into the tent, attempting a salute.

"At ease, what is it?"

"The battlefield..." The man breathed heavily between words. "Survivors... marching here."

Omrai's eyes widened. "How many?"

The man took a few more breaths, finally slowing down. "Not many. Those closest to the cannonballs are dead. Those furthest claim they were knocked unconscious, but some awoke and pulled others away from its effects. Some men, those near two or more cannonballs... Well, sir, not to disrespect the dead, but it's as if they were trampled by a herd of brachios. The dirt and grass itself is pressed flat."

Omrai nodded. "To march against Jebuthar in open war is death."

The scout frowned at Omrai's sudden morbidity. Omrai ignored him, looking at the cities marked on the map. "If we stay in our cities for refuge, his armies will drop on our heads. Our walls will do little good."

Omrai turned to the scout again, "Do you think it's safe to send men to the battlefield? Will Jebuthar allow that?"

"His ships and all his metal warriors are gone. And he didn't harass the survivors."