While Kain and Erwin Krueger woke the rest of Krueger’s men and walked them to the city gates, the living wave of Arschloch’s spearmen was not faring too well. Arschloch himself had already jumped ship and had fled the field of battle, confident in his wealth and political weight being able to bail him and his reputation out of this precarious position he now found himself in.

“Huff. Huff. Huff. Huff. Yes. Huff. Yes. Not a retreat. Huff. No. Huff. Not a retreat. Not fleeing the battlefield. Huff. A…Huff. A strategic withdrawal! Huff. Yes! Yes, that is what it is! Not defeat. Merely a setback! Huff. Huff. Huff. Huff. No… Too negative…”

The corpulent man decked out in the finest military attire caught his breath as he leaned up against one of the many twisted trees that bordered the path that his hated rival had made for him. When he finally caught his breath, he made another attempt at running, his body jiggling with every step. His jowls quivered as he panted like a dog, the air escaping his body sounding like a mix of an asthmatic’s pained breathing and a pig squealing.

The fleeing Field Marshal could’ve sworn he saw the shapes of men in the tree line and assumed that the undead were still after him (which they were not). The fact of the matter was that the undead had not even spared the overweight commander a second thought, or even a first thought. The undead were directed to deal with the actual combatants, and thus Arschloch could’ve simply walked away or sat and watched without ever needing to flee. This was one of a few reasons why the undead were, in some respects, inferior to the living. You could give them an objective, but they wouldn’t deviate from it or improvise or take initiative unless they were instructed to do so.

But such things were unknown and inconsequential to the tubby Teutonian. His sole objective was to survive at any cost. If he could make it to the main camp, he could grab a horse and make his way back to the Fatherland. He had to tell the Leader that the Undead threat was far greater than had been expected! Alas, he would find himself in an even worse bind than when he was back at the battlefield, as he ran headlong into two very dangerous individuals who were none too happy to see an invader in their nation and also quite intent on avoiding the ire of the Dark Emperor himself. Naturally, being the idiot that he was, Arschloch had not the slightest idea of who these two attractive females were and, ever the boor that he was, tried to ‘pick them up’, even in his currently less than desirable situation.

“Well, hello there, my lovely ladies. Huff. Huff. Might I enquire your obviously pure and noble Teutonian Lineage? Truly, we can join together to make the beast with three backs and thus bring into this world a---!”

Before he could say another word, the taller of the two women unleased an aura of the most potent bloodlust she could. The oppressive force that hung in the air could only be cut by a diamond saw, but even then, it would take many, many worn out blades to make even a millimeter of progress. The stench of urine and excrement was now added to the offensive and disgusting smell of sweat that had already rendered Arschloch’s uniform nearly soaked all the way through, which caused the taller woman’s aura to only increase in intensity until the feeble form of the fat Field Marshal was unable to stay conscious and tumbled to the ground with a ‘plop’.

The shorter woman turned to the taller one.

“Don’t you think you might want to de-stress? It might not be good for the little one within if you keep that aura up.”

Begrudgingly, the tall, voluptuous and extremely pale woman in royal attire relented and her bloodlust dropped significantly, but not entirely.

“The baby and I are hungry. A little snack shouldn’t hurt.”

The tall woman’s words would have sent shivers down Arschloch’s spine had he been conscious to hear them. In fact, they may have even made him realize who or at least what was standing in front of him. Once again, the shorter woman with the washboard chest was the voice that spared the fool from certain oblivion.

“Take a closer look. His attire is clearly that of someone far up the military chain of command, He would likely want this ball of meat taken alive. You know, to be interrogated and forced to give up vital secrets, or just to vent frustrations. Besides, that much fat can’t be good for the little one or ones inside. Just think of what too much fat in someone’s diet does to them, would you want your child or perhaps even children to be overweight upon birth? Trust me, a fat-rich diet is not something that a pregnant woman should have. Also, are you really considering draining a sweaty, piss-and-shit covered blob of grease and grime like him? I thought you had said that you have standards!”

Obviously angered by these words and the gnawing hunger that pained her, the taller woman retorted.

“I am hungry, I failed my husband and creator, I lost over 90% of the forces given to me AND to top it all off I arrived back home too late to help defend it from an invasion. Can you fault me for wanting some comfort food before my beloved berates me and quite possibly leaves us all for good out of disgust and disappointment?”

The shorter woman was once again the voice of reason and calm.

“I don’t think he will leave us, and I think you are making a big fuss over very little. Obviously the undead he gave us were disposable, and he wanted US to survive and work together, which we did. Also, we arrived back not to find a ruined and sacked city, but one that endures and even thrives, proof enough that Kain had it all under control. Lastly, do you really expect his heart, as cold and dead as it is, not to immediately melt when he learns you are carrying his child or perhaps his children? He would have to be an absolute bastard to turn us away, especially since you carry his heir or heirs. You know him best, is he truly the kind of monster to turn us away?”

The tall woman relented and accepted that she was simply dwelling too much on the negative and being overly pessimistic.

“Besides.” The shorter woman spoke up again with a glint of maliciousness and anticipation in her eyes. “Taking him captive means that we have one more gift to give our glorious Emperor, don’t we? A gift that he is sure to love toying around with, don’t you agree?”

The two women looked each other in the yes and began to laugh manically. Behind them, in a magically enchanted coffin laid upon a cart pulled by a group of Zombies, lay the broken body of the man who had intruded upon their invasion and forced them to return in defeat.

They were going to have fun with his soon to be undead body.