As the bitter steel from the undead sentinels blade dug into the edge of Wardens blade the difference in their strength became abundantly apparent to him, it wasn't just the size of the creatures which gave them an advantage when it came to strength it was something much deeper and more esoteric than that.
Shifting himself to the side, Warden lowered the pressure of his blade as he pulled it away as he drove the pummelled into the inner thigh, making the undead enemy stagger slightly as its blade overextended just enough to allow Warden to swing up into the creature's head as it pulled itself away. Cutting across its face managed to leave a nasty wound which festered with black blood as its ability to see was obscured by the vile ooze.
As the creature stumbled another sleeper joined the fray he pierced upward with a long spear which the undead barely managed to deflect with the side of its blade, by now Warden had already moved on top the next undead having left the other in the hands of his companion.
Fighting through the undead legion was a battle of endurance above all else where even a single mistake would cost a person their lives but even after just a short battle with a few undead Warden already felt the exhaustion creeping deep into his bones. Unlike the abominations they had hunted over the past few days these creatures knew how to fight with a level of tactical genius that no others could compare too.
They knew how to leverage their strength in order to reach the conclusion they had been searching for in the decimation of the invading army, and yet the sleepers were managing to break through for now, for they had learnt how to leverage their weakness instead. They knew that they were no match for a contest of physical might so instead they decided to use their opponents strength against themselves to throw them off balance to allow for quick and easy executions.
But still even by using this method of attack they were still nowhere close to reaching their main goal, and the undead commander still lingered in the distance like an oasis of death awaiting their arrival, sparing a moment to watch Warden saw as an arrow shaped from pristine metal which he had just finished that morning flew through the air towards the enemy leader.
The whistle as it flew drew little attention from the beasts and undead as it traveled at incredible speed, yet as soon as it came close to the commander the arrow seemingly crumpled under its own weight as if it had hit some imaginary wall of force as it fell to the floor as a chunk of scrap.
No longer able to pay anything else any attention, Warden's blade once again connected to the cold steel of an undead warrior as they prepared to face each other in dreadful combat.
///
Watching over the battlefield with keen eyes Damian watched every battle as it unfolded, every strike, dodge and near miss was laid bare in front of him, he had seen the brilliant tactics of his peers and could see how far they had come in this battle…yet it was not enough.
No matter how hard they fought he could see that their defeat was all but inevitable, with every glancing blow that collided against their armour with every arrow missed by the fellow archers they were slowly being worn thin and fast, if nothing changed soon the melee fighters would be overrun and the backline would collapse in no time at all.
Between his shots at the undead to aid the front of the formation he had also attempted to deliver a fatal blow to the undead commander at the legions core, but every time the arrow flew true it simply broke apart in the air just before it could reach him as if he was protected by some invisible force of nature yet he didn't stop. No matter how many failures it would take he would eventually break through its outer shell and see it die by his hand, for that was his will.
Of course, his will meant nothing without the strength to back it up and despite how powerful of a memory he possessed he could not use it to its full potential just yet, they had discovered during Warden's examination that it possessed three enchantments, one had to do with souls and the other had to do with War God in some way or another but it was the third which held the most promise.
The bow seemed to possess the ability to manifest its own arrows yet no matter what he had tried he couldn't figure out how to make it do so, his current problem was that his arrows did not possess the piercing power to puncture the commanders impressive defense due to them only possessing slightly greater than mundane properties thanks to Wardens Aspect and until he figured out this ability, the battles fate had already been decided before it had ever even started.
///
Jasper's bones were aching unlike anything he had felt before, with every moment of rest feeling like the weight of reality itself was resting on his shoulders, for in those moments his inhuman constitution left him leaving him mundane on a battlefield of inhuman proportion. This meant that he couldn't allow himself to stop for more than a few seconds without risking collapsing from exhaustion, he envied the others who could fight without rest for long stretches of time, and longed to have that same power himself no that wasn't enough he needed more.
In order to end conflicts as quickly as they started so that he could enjoy his life without having to be in constant motion sounded like a blissful dream he knew he could never achieve, running forward with his encumbering blade he slashed against the metal arms of an undead horror, sending it reeling back as the sounds of screeching metal echoed out.
The vanguards had people whose aspects relied on speed and precision in order to make sure these stragglers never made it to the backline or circled around forcing the melee force to turn and battle a war on two fronts, they had done well at first yet as they pushed deeper and deeper the harder it became to keep up with the constant assault.
The melee forces were starting to slow, meaning more and more undead were slipping through the cracks with every second which passed, sliding under the legs of another undead as he carved a chunk from its leg as he turned back. On top of it all due to the limited space he couldn't build up enough speed to finish off his enemies in one or two decisive strikes, instead having to rely on wounding them and allowing the others to put them down, if nothing changed soon there would be too many for them to fight off.
///
Jest was firing arrow after arrow into the crowd of the undead legion, trying his best to hit at the numerous beasts littered among the crowd, he knew he wasn't a very good marksman so he was just aiming in the general direction and hoping for the best.
The spell had whispered in his ear here and there announcing the kills of creatures Jest had never even seen from so far away, the thought of running away was clawing at his mind like a parasite, he knew it would be his best chance if he simply ran know, the chances are that very few if any of the others would be around to chastise him for his cowardice and those who did survive probably wouldn't blame him either…
and yet he didn't and continued firing arrow after arrow into the crowds as he watched numerous allies both slay the abominable monsters as well as die underneath the weight of the undead legion, in all honesty the death toll so far was far below what they had expected but still not good, for every death meant the formation had to change to accommodate the loss ever so slightly.
In all honestly Jest knew the death count was only so low due to Damian saving many of them at the last moment, the strange man seemed to have gone mad with trying to save every dying sleeper he could, honestly Jest would have just let them die to allow for himself to get away if it wasn't for the fact that he was scared of Damian.
He wondered about putting an arrow in the back of the man's skull and calling it a misfire, taking his strength for himself and using it to flee as far as he could and yet he hesitated in doing so, if there was ever a path of escape this seemed like their best option and he was the only one capable of pulling it off, so as much has he hated it, Jest decided to put off this man's death, until a time where he was no longer needed.
Reaching back into his quiver Jest felt a chill run down his spine as he realised that he had run out of arrows, quickly searching the floor the the additional stockpile they had brought with them he could see many others already doing the same, he knew what this meant, that very soon the ones without a ranged Aspect would be expected to move forward and help with the brawl, he could feel the emotions of the backline taking a dive as he bolstered their emotions to keep them on track, it was difficult to manage so many emotions at once but without his aid the army would have fallen apart some time ago.
Turning back to the older man Jest was left staring at an empty space where the man had once stood, seemingly as if he was never there at all.
///
Using his Aspect ability Damian vanished to the sight of the world around him and yet to him it was as if nothing changed, drawing his bow taught he released another arrow towards the undead captain in the hopes of it finding its mark. He figured that if the creature could not see the attack then it would be unable to block it.
A simple yet effective strategy as he watched the arrow fly over the heads of many abominations and sleepers alike as it soared through the air, the whistling was gone and no creature on the battlefield could see it coming as it collided with the behemoth.
Striking its face as it caught itself in the flesh of its cheek as its blackened eyes darted to the source of the pain, reaching up an armored hand it tore it from its flesh and looked down at it before crushing it effortlessly in its palm. The wound was superficial at best, not dealing any real damage to the creature, looking across the battlefield it scanned hoping to find the source of this mysterious injury.
Eventually it saw its prey, a young man with a billwildered expression over his gaunt face, wielding a bow and arrow at the back of the formation as he looked around, most likely to see if anyone had noticed his impressive feat of archery.
This was the moment the Forsaken Commander had been waiting for, a worthy opponent worthy of a former commander of the great forces of WAR even if he now denounced the Flame it was born from he still held great honour in his pride as a knight commander. His mind was twisted beyond what it had once been with ancient whispers echoing through his mind driving him mad with hunger as he looked over the feast before him.
The terrifying creature raised its spear high before slamming the base onto the ground, sending a shockwave of force rolling out over the battle causing many allies and enemies alike to buckle under its weight. With slow and steady steps the commander had begun his assault on the invasion force, one step at a time, with each one pressing down on the world again and again as he approached the spearhead of the formation, his goal was the skilled archer but he would not denounce the chance to feast upon the flame right in front of him, for that was his solemn duty.
Damian watched as the goliath approached with unhurried steps, firing more and more arrows into its body with little to no real damage being done to its form, at a loss Damian wasn't sure of what to do for a moment, a creature like this was far beyond anything they had faced before and yet if they didnt..if he didn't kill it they would all die right here on this cobbled street, becoming nothing more than a distant dream.
Suddenly an idea crossed his mind so simple he was shocked he hadn't considered it before, not knowing if it would work or not yet he had to try, pulling on his experience from his first nightmare he looked inside his soul as a sudden rain of sparks formed itself in his empty palm as a rusted chain wove itself into existence.