Chapter 4: Battle of Burkhart

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The front lines of the blues tried to ready themselves, but by then, the two men ducked low and ran past them and began weaving in and out of the lines of enemies. They ran as if they flew across the ground, low with swords at their sides, ready to strike. Lost among the horde, the pair attacked. Their swords danced through the air. Cutting flesh, steel, and leather in equal parts. These two men ran fast and low, finding the blind spots of their enemies. With no wasted movements, the pairs' swords would reach their opponent with a stab or slice, causing maximum damage with minimum effort. Shortly after the team disappeared within the horde, a voice called out. "So 'ow's dat, brat? Yur first taste o' a real fight. It's nothin' like practice, now is it?" The Boss called out to Siegfried; his voice sounded almost happy in the chaos of battle.

Another voice called out in response, "you kidding, old man? You could put up more of a fight in your sleep." Siegfried could be seen leaping over a group of Blues that tried to corner him, "too slow, ya bastards!" Jumping across a few heads before disappearing within the horde again, Siegfried wore a wild grin as he dove in for more. "They are a hardy bunch though, I'll give them that."

"And dey're quick learners too, so pay attention brat! Dat's 'ow dey keep gainin' ground. So keep ya head about ya, and ya'll – 'ey, watch where yer grabbin' – and ya'll be just fine."

"You've crossed swords with these beasts before Boss?" A loud crash of steel could be heard from the direction of Siegfried's voice. "That's – Missed me, ugly! – That's news to me."

"I've been alive longer den dis war's been ragin', o' course I've clashed wit' dese blighters. Now let's teach 'em not to mess wit Burkhart!"

The pair of men were having a seemingly normal conversation, yet they fought with all they had, with broad smiles on their faces and seemed at ease in taking on the outrageous odds. As the soldiers readied to enter the fray, the man standing next to Boris could only muse, "these men are lunatics...." Boris heard this and chuckled. "Sergeant?"

Boris readied his blade as he glanced at the man next to him, "effective lunatics." Then, seeing the unfolding chaos as an opportunity, Boris called to his men, "Are we going to let civilians fight for us while we sit by doing nothing?" Those who stood with him let out a deafening 'NO', and with a wide grin, Boris led a cry that rattled the heavens, rushing the confused blues, "FOR BODANEN!" His fellow soldiers rushed behind him to join the two blood-covered farmers in battle.

"Was wonderin' when ya were gonna join in da fun, Sergeant." As Boris and his soldiers slammed against the wall of blues, the Boss happily called out to Boris as he continued his own attacks.

"I must say you two took us by surprise, so I apologise for the delay. It is an honour to fight by your side."

"Just don't get in the way; the old man and me fight pretty wildly if you couldn't tell." Siegfried joined in the banter as he jumped through the horde again.

"Would never dream of it. Now let us show these beasts we mean business! Form up!" With that, Boris and his squad quickly moved into a formation that greatly aided the two farmers. As the Boss and Siegfried weaved in between the artificial mortals, cutting and stabbing where it was most opportune, Boris took to the front of his men and began swinging his blade at the horde; a great sword as long as he was tall. He aimed at the ones weakened by the wild and unpredictable fighting of the farmers, severing heads and limbs with each mighty swing. At either side of Boris stood a wolf therian taking a defensive stance; in one hand, they stabbed at their enemies with their blades, their other hand transformed into a giant wolf paw, which had become their shields.

The paw pads were like steel, able to withstand most blunt and slashing attacks, and the claws made perfect weapons for counterattacking. With the giant size came the strength to knock back foes and withstand blows. Behind these three swordsmen was the human man that had marvelled at the farmers' lunacy. He stood with a quiver full of arrows at his feet, as well as more arrows stuck into the ground around him. With his composite bow in hand, he let loose a hail of arrow fire into the enemy lines, having precision enough to hit those that stood behind the farmers as they fought another. Behind the archer stood the final soldier from the kingdom, a light elf, holding high a long and gnarled wooden staff with a cluster of crystals affixed to the top. With slight movements and quiet chants, lightning, fire, and arrows of light flew from her hands and staff, weaving in and out of friend and foe alike until it made contact with its target, setting them aflame, electrocuting them, or blowing holes into them. While the three swordsmen focused on defending the long-ranged fighters, those long-range fighters concentrated on assisting the farmers by attacking the foes that stood in their blind spots and aimed for surprise attacks.

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