"General, shall I order my troop to join the battle?" An obese Wengol in heavy coral armor riding a Wurching twice the size of his congeners boldly requested his great general. His three white eyes shone with malice, their aggressiveness barely contained.
Behind him, several thousand Wengol riders stoically awaited his permission, their killing intent so thick that the air seed to grow heavy around them. From their fine armor and the trident emblem engraved on their bulwarks and breastplates, those who recognized the crest knew that this was a Khinchod protectorate brigade.
In this protectorate filled with aliens, there was no more elite unit than this one. Their presence alone signified the importance of this war and thus warranted their victory.
On Quanoth, and this was a truth that held true for most nations, the armies had similar structures with so nuances from one country to another. 3 to 15 companies of 100 soldiers ford a battalion, two to three battalions a regint of 2500 to 4000 n, two to three regints a brigade of 5000 to 12000 n, two to three brigades a division, and more than two divisions a corps.
The Khinchod army tried to decimate the refugees initially consisted of three divisions of 24,000 n, including a protectorate brigade of 8,000 warriors. Despite the refugees' comndable resistance, only the half-division composed of their most inexperienced units had engaged in combat at this point.
To the great general, the brashness of these outstanding civilians was as laughable as the ferocity of a cornered mouse baring its teeth at a tiger. Perhaps it could bite him once or twice, but death was the only outco.
"That's not necessary." The great general furrowed his brow, much to the displeasure of his subordinate, who was also the general of the protectorate brigade.
This illustrious great general was living up to his status, the alien and his mount so colossal that the brigade general and the rest of his troops looked like children next to him. His caution made no sense, but the other generals under his command could only take it upon themselves to be patient.
"What about the battalions we dispatched to eliminate the remnants of their army?" The great general inquired quietly. "Their battles should be over by now."
"We have not yet received any news." An unfamiliar Wengol officer replied respectfully, bowing low.
Because of his deep bow, no one noticed the vile glint in his eyes. On his right wrist, a strange bracelet that no native could see sparkled clearly in evidence like a banner. In this Wengol army, there were other aliens who shared the sa attire eccentricity.
The great general sullenly scowled again, but he did not ask any more questions, nor did he give any new orders. Instead, he opened his three eyes wide and spread his ntal power over the entire battlefield, the ongoing massacre no longer keeping any secrets from him.
Soon, his eyes squinted as he spotted strange auras within his army and that of the enemy refugees. Focusing on their energy signatures, he quickly noticed that they lacked a fighting spirit, as if they were only pretending to participate.
'What are they trying to accomplish?' The great general Wengol sensed that sothing horrible was about to happen, but he had no way to stop it.
"Urzul." He called out loudly.
The general of the Protectorate Brigade imdiately stood at attention.
"My general."
His superior nodded in approval and ordered authoritatively,
"Choose one hundred of your best n and send them to eliminate the targets I will point out to you."
The Wengol warrior was taken aback by this instruction. So of the designated targets were part of their army. Yet he still clasped his four hands and personally selected 100 Wengol horsen and their Wurching mounts. He barked several words in a guttural language and the elite squadron assembled scattered silently, blending like shadows into the battlefield despite their imposing fras.
The great general and the other Khinchod generals kept a close eye on the movents of these crack troops, but alas, an unforeseen event forced them to divert their attention from these elite units.
Just as the battle was in full swing, a loud, supersonic bang made all the fighters look up to the sky. There, they spotted a tiny incandescent speck splitting the thick layer of black clouds like a divine ray. When this bright speck stabilized, they spotted a fearso mutant as dazzling as a sun, its size no less than that of the Wengol warriors.
This raised the vigilance of the Khinchod army on the verge of victory to an unprecedented level, but the appearance of this entity gave renewed hope to the desperate refugees. Although this individual was not exactly like them, he was clearly human!
The reinforcents had finally arrived! And from the looks of it, it was a Mutant from Laudarkvik.
Half a second later, a young woman nearly as tall erged from the clouds with a second supersonic bang. Her body was clad in silver chitin armor and a pair of wings, and the blindingly pale blue light she shed instantly spread a layer of frost over the plain, before it was instantly liquefied by the radiance of her companion.
For a mont, both humans and Wengols were transfixed by the celestial apparition. The spirit aura of these two Mutants was nothing exceptional. Most of the elite Wengols in the Protectoral Brigade emitted a superior presence.
But then why were their energy signatures so terrifying? High-level fighters on both sides who could perceive the inconceivable power of these two Mutants were deeply concerned.
Unsure of their intentions, the renowned craftsn of Lodunvals who had been standing by the soldiers anxiously retreated and the Khinchod army did the sa.
"Who are you?!" The great general Khinchod's thunderous voice rumbled, forming ripples in the air that carried into the clouds.
Jake looked at the Wengol who had just spoken and subconsciously shuddered with fear. Their grand entrance was just a bravado to buy ti, but he and Ruby were very clear about their real chances of victory. Without Norton, they had no chance against this Wengol and the generals next to him.
At least not in a head-on fight. The way Laudar almost lost his leg to Ruby proved that a high Spirit Body level was not enough against a much more advanced life form.
In the end, a Wengol was just a humanoid octopus a little tougher and smarter than its Earth counterparts. In the face of burning flas, and a sharp knife, they could only bend their backs and ekly allow themselves to be cooked into takoyakis.
"Jake Wilderth and Ruby Hale, two of the Mutants mobilized by Laudarkvik to reinforce Lodunvals." Jake divulged coldly, the rays radiating from his body converging rcilessly on the great general in an attempt to intimidate.
The revered alien's sensitive skin promptly began to sizzle, a barbecue aroma soon wafting through the air. The invincible general snarled contemptuously and a steady stream of steam oozed from his pores to cool his body. An oily substance mixed with the water, forming a protective insulating layer that finally stopped the slow cooking and soothed the first burns.
The other Wengol generals in the vicinity responded to the threat in a similar fashion, and Jake had to admit that he had underestimated these aliens. In reality, he was just probing them. If they couldn't even defend themselves against his passive radiation, then they weren't worthy of being his opponents.
Still, the entire army was now suffering from a nasty sunburn. The humans too, but Jake had done his best to spare them.
The important thing was that these high-level aliens were indeed not invulnerable to the heat. Too bad Jake couldn't really cast spells. His body could produce a lot of heat and energy, but it was limited to that contained in his cells and his Aether Core.
As for the Aether in the atmosphere, it was too dangerous with all those high level natives. His Spirit Body was nothing special on Quanoth. If he stretched it too far to hog the ambient Aether, his ntal defenses would be spread so thin that an enemy psychic attack might render him senile.
He had long since realized that the Aether Core was not an ideal energy source for casting spells. At least not at his level. The Mana Cores these natives used seed to be quite useful. Now that he was a Rune Engraver, Jake intended to make up for this shortcoming as soon as possible.
The entrance of these two Mutants brought the battle to a stalemate, and the traitors with dissonant auras scattered throughout the two armies were forced to suspend their operations as well. This was an unacceptable situation that hampered the execution of their plans.
One of these individuals, a Khinchod battalion commander, unceremoniously hurled his cumberso joust at the two Mutants suspended in the sky, which brutally impaled the young woman. Ruby was blown into the clouds, swept away by the spear pressing against her torso.
Incensed, Jake's furious glare locked onto the culprit and a resounding heartbeat swept across the battlefield. The next mont, the alien who threw the spear collapsed to the ground stone dead, his heart and brain having just imploded.
While everyone focused on the death of this commander, no one noticed the suspicious actions of a Wengol Player standing behind the great general. A peculiar pottery jar of very archaic appearance, but with drawings that obviously referred to an obscure civilization, popped into his hands.
When he removed the lid, an invisible gas flowed out of it, but instead of dispersing into the air, it remained condensed like a long pipe and began to slither decisively towards the inattentive great general like a real snake.
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