It had been over a week since the first time Arschloch’s forces had begun what was now a daily pattern. As the men formed up in the same spots as before, they failed to notice the fact that the ground they stood upon was now bumpy. This lack of attention was due mostly to the fact that the vast majority of them had barely slept at all, having woken up at first light and gone to bed when the last of the day faded and the stars became visible. They were tired, hungry, thirsty and irritable, a recipe for disaster. This was not as Kain had planned, but it was a welcome turn of events. Krueger himself sat upon a stool overlooking the wide-open field that lay before Arschloch’s five armies and was the only one to notice the newly uneven terrain and the slight stench of rotting meat that hung in the air.

As the first few hours passed, everyone just assumed that this would be another boring and pointless day of standing around doing jack-all. A thick fog hung in the air, just thick enough that the five armies of mortal men could not see any more than 100 meters in front of them but not thick enough to be cause for alarm. Krueger was the first to hear the rhythmic thumping of feet on the ground that could never be mistaken for anything else. The sound was soft at first, but eventually it could be heard over the grumbling of the masses of cheap spearmen.

Krueger smiled and turned to Arschloch who sat beside him on an elegant looking wooden chair.

“Do you honestly think that spears made of pure wood will be able to stop the Untoten? Do you honestly believe that by throwing bodies at them that they will be destroyed? Do you seriously believe that the dead will not just be animated and sent back to you?”

These questions and others were ones he wished to ask but could not due to the threat of violence.

Finally, Arschloch himself heard the sounds that had begun to put his men on edge.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Arschloch slightly raised himself out of his seat and gazed into the fog.

“Men! Ready yourselves!” Arschloch yelled, his commands soon echoed across the battlefield.

The spearmen raised their fire-hardened wooden spears and prepared to brace for an oncoming attack. If they were equipped with shields, they might have actually been ready, but Arschloch was never known for being generous with his funding, instead embezzling the majority of it and charging the bulk of his army exorbitant amounts for gear cheaper than what was supposed to be equipped. As the woefully underequipped spearmen raised their short-spears and braced for a potential charge, a single man looked up and saw the death that was approaching.

“ARROWS!”

And with that, the battle had begun, and an entire part of the front line had been hit with a concentrated strike from the Skeleton Archers, and they were beginning to take aim again.

“CHARGE!”

Arschloch shouted his command and the living began to run towards the Undead. With battle cries and screams, the spearmen ran headlong into a wall of archer fire, the ‘formations’ of men having dissolved into a tide of bodies as was the battle ‘strategy’ of the Teutonian General of the Living Wave. The knights stayed behind for a while and then slowly began to walk and ride towards the battle, knowing full well that with every second they wasted more of the grunts would be slain. As was usual for Arschloch’s cronies, they would wait until the foe was exhausted and then waltz in and steal the credit.

As the knights slowly moved over the spot where the spearmen had stood, the ground began to shift as the undead in their shallow graves rose up on masse. Much to their shock and horror, they were now completely surrounded by the rot-ridden husks that slowly began to shamble and crawl towards them. The horde that now penned them in was far too massive to deal with for the meagre numbers of knights, and even if they had the numbers to stand a chance these knights were not like the ones that were part of Krueger’s force. These were the cronies of the worst Field Marshal in Teutonia. Training was something they rarely ever did, and they had never faced an opponent like the one that had cornered them.

As Krueger and Arschloch watched in horror, the Zombies began to overwhelm the panicking knights and slowly tear them apart. Their armor was designed to protect them, but in the end, it caused more harm than good. It restricted their movements just enough to allow the hordes to dogpile the noble-born and pure-blooded Teutonians and once pinned beneath the mass of rotting forms the knights were dismantled piece by piece and organ by organ.

As the undead feasted on the blood and flesh of the ‘best of the best’, Krueger seized the opportunity provided to him and landed a heavy kick on the unmentionables of the one holding his chain. Still stunned by the sight of his bootlickers being eviscerated, Arschloch had no way to defend himself or stop Krueger from delivering a roundhouse kick to his head and pilfering the keys to his chains and the cages in the main encampment.

Spitting up some teeth, Arschloch heard a mocking statement from Krueger as he fled back to the undefended and unguarded main camp.

“If you actually had paid attention to my letters and thought things through you might not be in this situation, fool. Then again, knowing you, you would have screwed the pooch somehow. Farewell, you sack of lard!”

…

As Krueger ran into the camp, he was shocked by what he saw. His men were sound asleep, but the doors to their cages had been ripped from their hinges and lay in a pile of twisted metal not too far away. The towering and imposing figure of Kain Anathemas Nekronus was leaning against one of the now opened cages with a look of disappointment upon his face. He walked over to the former Field Marshal and patted his shoulder as if to say, “Don’t worry about it.”

“You look upset.” Krueger said, pointing out the obvious.

Kain sighed and crossed his arms.

“I am. I had hoped that the fool that had imprisoned you would be better, but it would seem I was mistaken. You were right, he is not only an Asshole in name, but also in action and thought. Seeing his forces makes me wonder if your nation can even withstand the next century in its current state. Even if I were never to have resurfaced, it seems as though your nation is doomed to collapse in upon itself. How it has not done so already is beyond me. No offence, of course.”

“None taken.” Krueger said with resignation. “I suppose that even the greatest of nations are doomed to collapse sooner or later. Teutonia had a good run, but it will be destroyed by your hand and its existence lost to history.”

Kain glanced back towards Krueger.

“Who said I would erase it?”

Krueger thought that Kain was bluffing. He was certain that he would erase Teutonia.

“I will indeed break your nation, that much is true. I shall defeat it, but not erase it. It would be in my best interest to simply remake it, rebuild it, reshape it into something better. I would hope that you could at least stay a bit and hear me out. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go, so why not have you and your men enjoy my hospitality?”

“Enjoy the nation that slaughtered our comrades?”

“Did you forget? YOU attacked US first. YOU were the aggressors, WE were simply defending our homeland.”

Krueger accepted the reality of the situation but still was apprehensive.

“There is fault, death and blame on both sides, Field Marshal. All I ask is that you consider my offer. Stay a while in my city, and I will show you and your subordinates that I am not the heartless monster that your myths make me out to be.”

Krueger had no other options that would ensure the survival of his men.

He begrudgingly accepted what could be described as a Devil’s Bargain.

“All according to plan.” Thought Kain.