The Spirit of Wrath

Chapter Twenty: Showdown

 Initially, things had been straightforward.

The legion had been prepared for the sacking of a city and had yet to expect heavy resistance. Instead, they had broken ranks and begun to loot, pillage, and take prisoners. This allowed Sahshir to pick and kill his targets one at a time.

This had not lasted.

Now, the legion had gotten organized. The legion advanced from building to building in good order. They were setting fire and killing as they went. They guarded each other against demons and mortals alike. Their shields protected each other. Together, they began to mop up scattered resistance.

A door broke open, and a woman fled out of a house, pursued by the legionnaires. Arrows landed around her, but none found their mark as she sprinted away. In her grip was a screaming child.

Sahshir dropped down from the rooftop and through the window. Bringing his sword around, he beheaded one of the archers. From there, he went from window to window, killing as he went. Some withdrew to lower floors. He knew they would return with better-armed soldiers. Before they could, he leaped out of the window and landed on the street below.

He saw the woman fall as a legionary raised his blade to kill them. Sahshir sprinted with all his might and passed him, cleaving. The man fell into many pieces, and Sahshir pulled the woman up.

"Run for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," he said. "The monks have a way of escape."

Then, as she ran, he turned to face the enemy coming at him. They hurled spears at him. He dodged and weaved, cutting one in half as it fell. Then, hurling several kunai. He was disappointed when they all were caught on their shields.

More of them were coming now. Their swords were bloodied from fresh kills.

He ran, sprinting into an alley. Running up the wall, he kicked off, then back and forth until he reached the top. Then he leaped from rooftop to rooftop to escape. As he did, he saw a group of citizens with weapons fighting with the legionaries. Several of them fell, and not one legionary died with them.

He leaped to that rooftop and cleaved through a helmet. Then, drawing his blade out, he stepped around the next man's guard and jabbed his sword under the man's armpit. Pulling out, he fended off several strikes before vaulting over his enemy. As he landed, he stabbed him through the throat from behind.

The citizens were all dead now.

He fled down the steps and found the enemy waiting at the bottom. Leaping over a spear thrust, he beheaded the man and landed quickly. More were waiting for him at the base of the steps, and these, too, fell. But somewhere along the line, he must have been cut. As he stumbled into another room filled with civilian corpses, he felt an ache in his arm. He'd been sliced.

Sahshir felt like he was bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble. All he could do was buy time for the people to get on lifeboats, and only a little of it.

As he fled into the darkness of night, he slipped into an alley and fell to one wall, breathing heavily. He could hear screams and battle raging around him. Troops of soldiers rushed by him, crying battle cries. "Forward Legionnaires! For the Emperor! Let none of these heretics survive the reaping!"

Demons met them in battle, and the legions fought them without flinching.

Curse these legions. They had no fear. Sahshir had had several close calls tonight. Drawing a bandage from one of the compartments in his belt, he tied his wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Please, please don't hurt me-" begged someone before their voice was cut short.

Looking around the corner, he saw the legion was now fighting with some of the city's defenders. They were hacking and slashing at each other in a melee now. They seemed evenly matched.