The second fort along the river on the Frontline was named Boldgrig, after a captain that had died during the battle of Crushed Snake, twenty years ago. There was no particular trait about this man that made his name worthy for a Fort. He had died heroically and sacrificially for Kami’s cause of course, but so had so many other bright young officers of that day. Why the fort was named after one fallen officer and not another officer was just chance and nothing more. But it mattered little who the fort was actually named after because the fort wasn’t just a memorial for the captain Boldrig, each of the hundreds of Forts along the frontline stood as memorial for all the fallen soldiers of Kami and all who would die in the future as well. These forts were strong, especially the ones in Central. The walls were thick and impenetrable to all the boulders that the enemy could throw at them. The fort itself could house 1000 soldiers along with a full complement of support personal and mounted legions. Built directly on the river, the fort stood as an imposing structure to any who dared traverse one of the few fords along the river. It was said the forts in Central would only be taken down when the victory of Kami was assured and there would be no need for such forts anymore on the land.

Fort Boldrig and its men were now strewn across several square miles of land, on both sides of the river, memorial now only to the strength of the enemy. The once solid fort was now only minute blocks of mortar and wood, half burning, half flying, all destroyed. Its 1000 occupants also lay around, in bits and pieces as if the very hammer of god had come down from heaven and crushed the fort as if it was a stubborn nut. There were no screams from the dying, no cries of agony, because the men were already dead.

The man who had done this seemed entirely indifferent to the destruction he had caused, as if the act had been merely that of crushing an insect. In the attack, large chunks of the fort had been hurtled in every direction, including straight up. Now, that debris was falling around him and the pieces that seemed sure to crush him; he nonchalantly batted to the side where they landed with heavy crashes. He looked around with uncaring eyes, wondering what action he should perform next. He had been given a list of objectives to follow from his master, but he hadn’t been given a priority list. He looked around thoughtfully at his different targets. The two forts on either side were obviously part of his objectives as well, but at the moment they were spaced apart pretty evenly from the second fort and he couldn’t decide which to go after next. He should have started with the first one, he thought, and then just went down the line. But it was too late for that, though.

The man decided to go after fort on his right. He was right handed after all, it only made sense he would choose the one on the right. He stepped up on a pile of the rubble and surveyed the fort on his right. The men were scrambling around, doing who knows what. They all had places to go it seemed, but it was hard to understand humans sometimes. It’s not like there was anywhere they could go where they would be safe from him. Of what use was all there struggles if their works could all be crushed in an instant?

With another leap he bounded forward and blew away the first fort like he had done to the second. This fort, too, disappeared in the face of his strength he was suddenly irritated. “Weak, weak!” he called out, though nobody was near enough to hear him except for corpses. “So, Kami, this is your army?” he shouted. He paused and looked at the severed head of a man beneath him. Without hesitation, he squatted, picked it up by its singed hair. “These are the soldiers of the invincible Kami?” He asked the head, staring, empty, back at him, “Where are your vessels Kami? Will you send them out of the city to fight me, or will you keep them shut in for another day?” He stood and tossed the head to the side with a small smile, “Not that it would matter anyway. The end was decided 500 years ago!”

The swordsman turned around and looked at the last fort, now twice further away than before. Could he make it there in one bound? There wasn’t any challenge here; he might as well make some up for himself. Before he could move though, he noticed another one of his objectives appear. Should he go after the newly appeared target, or go after his original plan? Would the new target, provide more excitement, or did it not matter either way? He gritted his teeth and sighed. probably not.

He decided to go after the third fort after all and couldn’t quite make it in one bound. It annoyed him that he didn’t make it and in another flash and following concussion, the last fort disappeared as well. He turned his gaze to the rest of central, tacking his targets.

Fallow felt dazed, and he wasn’t sure what which of the two possibilities the feeling came from. Was it from being transported by magic over and over again that made him feel disoriented and sick? Or was it witnessing the literally unbelievable destruction the new enemy was creating? After a moment, he decided that it was from the later. Even Gatal’s most dire predictions could not have prepared him for this; this was beyond all conceivable events. Was this what it meant to be a vessel?

After teaming up with Vorash, he had been hopping around with Vorash for most of the day, secretly organizing a retreat among the army. With the network down, it only took a fair amount of lying to get the captains to cooperate. The officers were easily trusting and took his fake orders with only dismay that the battle had come to that. There was no way for them to confirm the orders, but with Vorash’s presence as the executive commander’s priest, they followed Fallows words readily.

Still, it took a large amount of effort and coordination among the different officers to get the retreat going, along with silencing of a couple of them. Vorash did that dirty work without so much as a flinch of hesitation. He scared Fallow slightly and he laughed at him, “We are together on this Fallow, for better or worse!”

When the enemy had announced their retreat with their loud trumpets, Fallow felt a dash of panic. Had he acted too rashly? Had he let the words of the two mad priests sway him from proper logic and rationalization? Vorash was unperturbed at the retreat though, and even grateful for the opportunity to evacuate as many people as possible to the southern gate during the lull, but Fallow had doubts. What if he was undermining the frontlines ability to effectively retaliate against the enemy? Fallow was already buried deep in his lies, it was too late to stop the retreat anyway, and he decided could only continue his campaign.

And now, that was the only thing that he could be happy about.

After his last magical transportation, he stood blinking and swaying on the plains between Main Central and the river. The attack began only minutes before and already all three forts, the proud fortresses that had just successfully defended against the mass of enemy troops, fell spectacularly. Fallow felt faint.

In contrast to Fallow, Vorash had responded without hesitation, dragging Fallow along with him. It was Vorash’s time to shine it seemed and he proved he wasn’t appointed as Lord Magician for naught. As the enemy blasted away the forts, Vorash gathered together the strength of the highland order under him. Fallow could not help but feel his respect for the man grow. Whatever his political objectives were, the man proved himself to be reliable in battle.

On the plains, Vorash stood with his priests giving out instruction hurriedly, preparing for their encounter with the enemy vessel. Fallow looked towards the river, it was all smoke, vapor, and dust now; he could not see anything clearly.

“Fallow!” Vorash shouted behind him. He turned around to see the man was motioning him over violently. He went over. “You must help lead the soldiers to safety while we carry out our operation!”

Fallow looked back at the priests that Vorash had gathered and wondered at the change that had come over him. He could remember the time when just being in the presence of the priests filled him with dread. To all soldiers, the priests were mystical beings of power and existence beyond them. Now, looking at them, Fallow could not help but feel disillusioned. Out here on the plains, sweating under the Great Lantern and from the fear of battle, Fallow could not help but feel they were simply people as well, scared and anxious.

Fallow responded blandly, “What do you hope to accomplish, Vorash? What can you gathering of measly priests do against that?” He pointed towards the smoke covered river as though the answer to his question was obvious. The vapor was slowly crawling its way over the plains, covering most of the lands now.

Vorash swelled angrily. “Do not forget who you talking to, human!” Vorash hissed. He grabbed Fallow’s uniform, pulling him close. “We are the priests of Kami, purveyors and works of his mighty power! We work under the direct will of Kami, and he is not a power to doubt!” Vorash let go of Fallow and pointed. “Now, there are still tens of thousands of men along the river, and we are not simply abandoning them yet. They are still alive and they will need direction to the Southern Gate.” Vorash dropped his voice down low. “We are preparing ourselves to fight the enemy vessel, but not to kill him, only to delay him as much as possible. With the time we create, you need to get as many people to the city as possible! Understand?”

Fallow breathed out a soft yes. Perhaps there was still some hope left. Vorash turned back to his magicians, all looking grim and pale. Several of them looked ready to bolt, but the rest were determined. Fallow wondered what kind of power difference there was between vessels and magicians. He didn’t know.

He heard the sound of approaching horses. Vorash was busy with his men, so Fallow strode forward to the noise.

“Who goes there?” Fallow shouted, trying to sound intimidating. He pulled out his sword feeling that it didn’t really matter. The smog was thick and he could only make it out as a small group of soldiers on horses. Their approach showed that they were making a beeline for the city gates and just happened to cross Fallow’s path.

The lead horse came to a stop near him and the rest followed. Fallow recognized him. “Drake! By Kami’s throne, what are you doing here? Where is Gatal? We need his power!” Drake pulled up looking disoriented and frightened. His eyes danced around wildly.

“Lieutenant! The enemy has thrown a vessel at us, we are no match, we need to run!”

“We know; where is Gatal?” Fallow shouted back. “We are making and counter attack and could use his power!”

Drake shook his head, “He disappeared as soon as the vessel showed up. I believe he went to Soul’s side, but he is gone now!” He paused and looked towards the city. “Do you know if the gates are open?”

Fallow nodded, “Yes, Vorash and I have organized a retreat; all of Central Main is already evacuated.” He looked down at the other soldiers, scared and tense. “You will have to hurry, who knows how long before the vessel come further forward?”

“What about you, Lieutenant?” Hourbor asked, stepping forward.

Fallow waved him off with more bravery than he felt. “Vorash is preparing a counter against the enemy in an attempt to rescue as many soldiers as possible. I am to lead them away.” He gestured back towards Vorash and the mages, “We have gathered close to 40 priests!”

Fallow expected Drake to be reassured by the pronouncement, not to blanch and look quickly back. “No!” he said. “The vessel is targeting the priests specifically! You need-.”

Drake words were cut off suddenly by a blast of hot wind and a shock wave. Drake was thrown off his horse and Fallow was sent flying several feet in the air. He landed painfully on his back and he lay on the ground, groaning in pain. When he looked up, there was a tall man, draped in black and carrying long silver sword. He had a long and stern face and his eyes looked around with irritation. He said plainly, “This is getting bothersome. How many of you are there?”

Fallow was hurt painfully, but he couldn’t stop himself from demanding, “Who are you?!”

The man simply looked down at him in surprise and responded, “Eh?”

A strangled yell come from Vorash, and the man looked back at him. Before anything else could happen, the scene erupted in a blast of light, wind, and abrasive sound. The hot air scorched Fallow’s face and he threw his arms up to cover it. When the incident ended, he looked up to find the highland priests had been decimated.

The whole block of priests lay dead on the ground, their charred and dismembered remains scattered around. The few that survived the initial onslaught struggled vainly with their magic for only a second before, they too, met their end at the point of the silver sword. Vorash’s head lay near him, but he could only tell it was his from the insignia that was half destroyed tattooed on the man’s head. Fallow turned over and threw up on the ground. He had never whiteness such death and destruction before.

Thankfully, Drake and his men were far enough away from the group of priests to escape its devastation, but it still blew most of them away. Most of them hadn’t even recovered from the initial appearance of the vessel yet. Several of them fell off the horses and the rest had trouble controlling their beasts. Drake’s horse appeared to have died, taking the brunt of the magical blast. Drake was working hard to stand up straight. Then Fallow noticed the shaking and panicked priest Horace that was still with him.

The swordsman appeared again right in front of them, looking around and scowling. Drake got slowly to his feet, as if the man was a predator ready to pounce on anything that moved too suddenly. The man ignored Drake though and said with fake solemnity, holding his sword in front of him ceremoniously, “Oh Kami, lord of the land, accept your servant into your bosom.” He looked directly at the poor priest with a small smile and with only enough time for a whimper from Horace, he cut him down. The man looked at the fallen priest, letting his bloody sword drop to his side. “Amen.” He concluded.

Fallow stared in wonder and horror. This man single handedly destroyed the frontline forces? He would have laughed, if he didn’t feel so sick.

The vessel had stayed still for too long. Instinctually, Drake leapt at him, his eyes filled with killing intent and a snarl escaping from his lips. From his steed, Ashton shouted, “No! Drake-.” But it was too late.

Sensing the attacking, the vessel turned quickly dodging the killing thrust of the spear and stepping back, his eyes wide in surprise. Not hesitating, Drake followed through, twisting around to block the expected blow that didn’t come and taking advantage of the slight opening that the vessel’s momentary surprise gave him. Drake lunged again shouting, “DIE!”

In an instant, as Drake came in close for the second time, the vessel stepped up quickly and snatched Drake by the throat, batting aside his thrust. Drake gasped as he felt his windpipe constrict on him. He quickly dropped his weapon and struggled against the single hand holding him effortlessly off the ground. The vessel stood there, unmoved.

The vessel spoke again with a frown, “That was surprising, I thought he was something else for a second, but he was just a simple human.” He looked longingly at Drake and then sighed. “I guess not. What a letdown, hm?” Without another word, he turned around and tossed Drake as easily as if he were a sack of potatoes. Not a sound was heard from Drake as he flew through the air for hundreds of yards, hitting the ground an imperceptible distance way. Ashton gasped in horror.

The vessel looked towards the city walls, keeping his frown, “When are they going to get here, huh? This is boring, I only have one objective left and if I complete it now then I would just be done. I don’t want that, why do they think I came out here alone?” He looked around at the stunned humans around him. They were all still and silent. Those that couldn’t quite grasp what had occurred gaped at the man, but the others were mortified. Ashton looked at him as if he too would attack the man, but he remained still as well. When the man looked at him, Ashton said with all the hate he could muster, “You Monster…”

The man heard him. “Hmph, me? A monster?” He asked inquiringly. He stepped forward to Ashton and when Ashton’s horse retreated back involuntarily the man leapt forward and cut the horse out from under him, slicing through the length of the horse as if it was butter. Blood and the terrible cries of death burst from the horse horribly and Ashton was thrown quickly to the ground. Without pause the man stepped on top of him.

“Monster is a word that weaklings like you call those who are more powerful than them.” The man spoke quietly but his voice was filled with violence. “Your uselessness torments you, so the lot of you cast your despair onto beings greater than you, blaming them for your hurt.” He leaned down close to Ashton and taunted him with a grin. “And you are right, for we all are monsters to you.”

The man stood up again and ground the heel of his foot into Ashton. Ashton cried out in agony, but the weight of the foot might as well have been the pressure of a mountain. The man continued incredulously. “For what reason do you exist? Why were humans created? Your pitifulness and wretchedness are only surpassed by the ease at which their lives are extinguished! Is there any meaning in you?”

Ashton’s screams increased and Fallow struggled up, pleading with the man, “Stop! Just stop, there’s no point…”

The vessel’s eyes suddenly locked onto Fallow’s. Fallow broke out in a cold sweat upon seeing those bright golden eyes. They seemed to pierce him and read his soul. He felt paralyzed by the state. The man roared at him, suddenly, “That’s my whole point, there isn’t any! Any and all acts that you humans could perform in your lives can and will be wiped out by me!” The vessel moved away from Ashton and grabbed Fallow by the front, hauling him to his feet before he could react. “Where are they?” he demanded suddenly.

Fallow struggled for breath, “Who?” he managed to choke out. He felt like his ribs were broken.

“Vessels, vessels,” the man replied, clearly annoyed. “Where are the vessels of Kami? He’s sending them out to fight me, isn’t he? He better, otherwise I came out here for nothing, you know?”

Fallow struggled a second and said, “I- I don’t know about that. I-.”

Before he could finish, the vessel released him saying, “Useless, useless…” Fallow fell again, his head swimming on impact. The vessel cried out, “Isn’t there any meaning in this?!”

The vessel made a face of one in serious contemplation. Then face softened and he said slowly, “I hate this, all I’m doing is swatting flies, when do I get a real fight? When do I start doing real work?” He looked out at the rivers again longingly. Then he said in a resigned voice. “I’ll just kill everybody, then.”

Again the man’s eyes looked down at Fallow, and Fallow knew that there was death to come from them. He closed his eyes and prayed for a quick end.

But it never came; instead the vessel leapt away, towards the river again. After a moment, Fallow cried out ludicrously. “Where is he going?!”

Nobody answered. Ashton was coughing and gasping for breath. Heath ran up to him, “Take it easy, you’re badly hurt.”

Micheal stepped forward and said sadly, “There is probably a higher concentration of humans over there. Much easier to kill a lot of them, I guess. We live to fight another day,” She ended sarcastically.

Micheal had been thrown off her horse as well and had a broken arm. Vanyor was kneeling over the broken body of Horace, praying for him. Horebour then let out a small wail, “Drake! What do we do now?” Michael seemed unable to speak any more.

Ashton spoke between gasps, “Our lives are still here, we need to get to the city yet, and the gates are still open!”

“Curse you, Ashton! It doesn’t matter!” Fallow burst angrily. “Nothing does! This is what it means to be humans, to live and die on the whims of the gods! It doesn’t matter if we run anymore; he will find us and kill us eventually!”

“Kami will not suffer the attacks of the enemy,” Horebore said stubbornly but slowly. “We have always been powerless before, that is why we rely on Kami for our strength! Nothing has changed yet.”

“Where is that strength!?” demanded Fallow. “Where was the strength of Kami when the western edge fell? Where was Kami when the enemies marched into the forest, destroying our armies and disrupting the Network? Where was Kami when the enemy appeared before and slew all of his faithful priests? Tell me man, where was Kami when your comrade dared to fight back and had his skull crushed in as a response. No! I do not see the strength of Kami anywhere out here; it has never left his walls!”

“You faithless mutt!” Micheal suddenly added in. “Kami has always been present, who has given you the food you eat, the house you sleep in, and the very clothes you wear? Who has it been who has kept you alive, even now when the sword of the enemy was at your throat?!”

“Those are the lies of Kami!” screamed Fallow unreasonably. “I was a simple man from the wilderness before the holy god ripped me from my home and dragged me into his war! This is not my city, not my god, and not even my battle; Kami has only ever filled my life with deception and grief and danger. And the same is for all of you too! You’re blind!” he shouted gesturing to all of them. “All of you have been dragged into this war that was not your own and have had your lives stripped by Kami. All of this is for naught. Kami does not care for us at all, his Frontline is decimated and he sits upon his throne silently. Kami will not be coming to save us today, or ever again! We’ve been abandoned!”

The others didn’t respond to his outburst, but looked at him with something akin to pity. Fallow couldn’t take it; he wanted to scream at them again, to strangle them, to beat in them the truth of their lives. Hot tears sprung from his eyes and he wept in frustration and despair.

Suddenly, Ashton pointed towards the city as something approached, flying in the air like three golden arrows. Ashton shouted something, but it couldn’t be heard over the roar of the objects as they sped through the atmosphere. They sped by quickly, passing the group without even looking back, but Fallow recognized them for what they were. He choked out in astonishment, “Kami’s vessels!”