Thus Did The Imperium of Mankind Fight There

Part 5 Count Formal's Regret

Count Formal had never seen so many killed so quickly. The auxiliaries were decimated within seconds of their charge as the armored soldiers blasted them apart with their staffs and vehicles. 

Just a minute later, it was all over, hundreds of monsters now lay dead without taking the life of a single enemy combatant. Count Formal turned visibly green as he watched it all and even greener when he saw the aftermath.

The corpses of the monsters were horribly disfigured, some had their heads blown apart and their brains spilled across the white pavement they were standing on like berry pastry toppings. 

Some had their limbs cut off, now bleeding to death as they lay on the ground wide-eyed, moaning as the last embers of life left them. 

Yet others had their torsos torn open, organs now spilled across the ground, as if all the butchers in the city had discarded their useless refuse here.

How had their enemy done this? Formal wondered. Some kind of dark sorcery? An occult ritual? Perhaps a gift from their god? What he was sure of now was that coming here was a mistake and that they had to leave NOW.

"G-General, we must withdraw, no man can survive that level of destruction. If we-"

He didn't get to finish his desperate plea. The general - now in panic - issued the order for the legionaries to assault.

"Le-Legionaries, forward CHARGE!"

"NO!" Count Formal screamed as he watched the legionaries charge against their foe. At first, he hoped the enemy would retreat as despite the power they wielded, they were grossly outnumbered. 

Such was not to be as they stood their ground despite the numerical disparity between them, unleashing their dreadful wrath upon the charging men. Their might was soon joined by the vehicles beside them and then the flying constructs above. 

Soon though, it seemed as if the stubborn defenders would be overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers as tens of thousands of legionnaires surged forth. Still, the enemy was defiant, their armor proving more formidable than anything yet seen by the Empire's forces. 

Their maces too, were deadly, most who were struck by them spasmed and twitched as if they'd become possessed, (the effect of a shock maul on its highest power setting) even if they failed to break through the legionaries' armor. 

One of the enemy's number, obviously their leader, grasped a mace that glowed spectacularly with blue light, causing whoever was struck by it to explode in a burst of lightning.

The general was frustrated by the slow progress and livid at the things in the sky which blasted his army with impunity. Signaling with his hand for a runner he ordered.

"GET THE CAVALRY TO ATTACK AND TARGET THE ENEMY COMMANDER!!! HAVE THE WYVERN AIR CORPS TAKE DOWN THOSE METAL BIRDS, DO IT!!!"

The general's face was bright red and out of breath after finishing his order, anxious to eliminate those who had so frightened him. 

For a moment, it seemed victory was within their grasp, the cavalry galloped through the Gate and felled the enemy leader and the wyvern riders managed to force the enemy flyers into retreat. 

Unfortunately, it was at that very moment that THEY came. Count Formal had thought that the black armored men and women in front of them were this state's most elite warriors, he was wrong, so very wrong.

They charged in at ludicrous speed, a virtual blur to the naked eye, cutting apart any who were within their reach and wielding what appeared to be enormous swords. But these were far more horrifying than any blade he had ever seen before. 

Some glowed blue like the weapon the previous enemy commander used and cut through armor and men as an ax might cut through parchment, but most held swords with spinning teeth that chewed through whatever they struck. 

The wounds caused by those blades were beyond description and one didn't need to see the rictus expressions of those stricken to know they died in agony. Why anyone would devise such an insane instrument of death was far beyond Formal's ability to understand.

At first, he thought they were some kind of magical golems, but then he saw one of them without his helm. 

The being had a face and as much as he couldn't believe it, the face was human. Not only that, but the face was one of the most beautiful and handsome he had ever seen as if it had been carved by an artisan. 

Long white hair flowed from his head down to his gargantuan shoulder pauldrons, his eyes were a stunning violet purple, a color human eyes should not possess. (The 3rd Legion has purple eyes because of their Primarch's potent gene-seed, they do not recruit from worlds near the Eye of Terror in either the original lore or in Imperium Ascendant) 

The man's armor was a rich Byzantine purple, covered in gold filigree. The Count could not even begin to imagine the cost of such a suit, the amount of purple dye needed alone would have been worth a small fortune for even the highest noble. 

Most shockingly, was the sheer size of the warrior - even if the armor was taken into account - he had to be at least eight feet tall, if not even higher.

The giants continued their slaughter, some wore armor in the same color as the white-haired one while others were clad in yellow or gray. Whatever color they wore, all moved with a speed and grace that were completely at odds with their heavily armored forms. 

The legionaries were no match for these behemoths and quickly realizing this, they surrendered. Fortunately, it seemed these warriors were not without mercy as they moved on after the infantrymen dropped their weapons and raised their hands. 

Overhead, the enemy's metal birds returned with the bodies of dead wyverns and their riders plummeting to the earth, ending with a gut-wrenching squelch as they finally collided with the ground. 

The cavalry, along with the general and the Count, attempted to reach the Gate on their horses. To their astonishment, they found that their animals—bred to be the strongest in the Empire—were being outpaced by the heavily armored giants.

Count Formal was one of the closest to reaching the Gate and for a second, he thought he'd just make it. It was then that he was lifted from his steed and dropped to the ground by a gauntleted fist. He desperately attempted to rise until one of the warriors pinched the back of his neck and he fell to the ground once more. 

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