Fate Weaver's convergence

C69

"Move back and re-shit!"

A nameless Centurion grabbed at the neck armor of one of his legionnaires, tossing him to the side just as an ax was swung down upon him. Barely blocking the weapon by the plated shield he'd carried, the centurion looked up to see the figure that'd pushed him alongside the tribesmen that slaughtered his troops. A towering, raven black-furred figure with the work skull of a stag adorning its head.

"Do all the legions of the emperor cower in such fear, Centurion?!"

The voice of a woman, filled with disgust, and well within her years emanated from under the skull. Raising its leg, the figure forced its hoof into the Centurians waist with such force that he was thrown back.

"Guh-"

* cough-cough *

Slamming into the wooden spoke of a wagon, the wood cracked and the suspension creaked from the impact.

Fuck, that hurt! Heal, come on, heal!

The Centurian begged his body to react quickly as he willed his mana forth to heal the cracks he felt within his hip. He was sure the damage would cripple him for life if he continued, but survival and relaying information of the crossfire he found himself and his detachment under. Their current predicament, thanks to his own inaction earlier that day.

"Be kind, and stay your hand while I visit the same fate upon you that was permitted!"

The figure yelled, allowing its ax to fall free from its hand. With a single movement, its arm raised from one side, and the nub of what used to be from the other. Its worn skull fell to its back as it did, revealing the pale face and pitch-black hair.

"The Empire grasps at its throat as it gasps, and so will you as I bathe you in fire!"

Mana gathered at the palm of her hand, culminating in an intense flame that grew rapidly.

Move, I have to move- fuck-

The Centurian struggled to stand, stumbling as he did. Falling to his knees under his own weight, he looked up to the woman that would be his end.

The damage is too great... I've failed... please, the heavens above, allow one of my legionaries to escape.

The Centurian closed his eyes as he felt the heat from the approaching fireball engulf him, the feeling almost coming as a surprise, feeling nothing but a burst of intense heat, then nothing at all as he was incinerated.

Sarah stood over the smoldering, ashen remnant of the Centurian as she struggled to force some kind of satisfaction upon herself.

To what end, why were you here?

The high Imp looked upon the results of her continued attack. The battle she'd just struggled through against Orion's followers having purchased victory at a heavy cost, it was strange to her that an Imperial force would yield so little resistance in comparison.

Is the Empire truly in such decline to the point of only observing?

Warriors continued to gather about, collecting any bodies of their kills as Sarah commanded. With a pile now forming, made of the bodies of Legionnaires, Sarah did her part.

"I may have been rash considering I'd have to handle you myself."

Sarah spoke to the charred corpse, using her good arm to grab at what was once a bronze chest plate and dragged it along. Throwing to the edge of the pile of corpses, Sarah thought bitterly of her direction.