Chapter 73

  The Hell’s Fury crews — the closest ones to the part of the western wall on which we stood, aiming for Camp Colosseum — loaded the enourmous, sealed jars onto the cups at the end of the catapult arms and set the flameslime coating on fire. The crews of Fire of the Fourth and Hellguide’s Hammer were somewhat farther from us on either side, doing the same and preparing their gifts for Camp Styx and Camp Acheron. Then, the moment of truth arrived: the spotters gave them the go ahead, and twenty-five catapults threw their flaming payloads into the air, over the walls and our heads. Instead of the deafening booms of canons, loud and sharp twangs filled the air, and I followed the fiery trajectories of the projectiles with my eyes and with open-mouthed awe, just like Riaret and her escorts as well as Grashon and my squad did. The first shots of the campaign, the first shots of a brand-new regiment; I would remember this moment for a long time — provided I’d stay alive — and with pride.

  Twenty-five blazing jars of Hell’s homegrown napalm coursed through the air, arching high, then descended on the unsuspecting minotaur masses populating the camps, and … impact! The batteries overshot their target slightly, some of the firebombs shattering along the backs of the camps, some several metres behind; I could see the nearest spotter watching intently and probably relaying the info already to the comm operator so the crews could adjust their aims. Still, it was a sight to behold as the projectiles shattered against the ground upon impact, and huge quantities of flameslime ignited and splashed in all directions; no explosions, no fireballs or debris, just searing hot fire spreading out and covering everything in a ten to twelve metre radius from each point of impact. It was a fitting opening move for an operation that was to be merciless, fast, and hopefully short.

  I aimed my rifle at Camp Colosseum and watched through the optical zoom as hundreds upon hundreds of minotaurs were mobilising; some rushing to the back to deal with the fires, some rushing to the fortifications facing the city in anticipation of an attack. Camp Styx and Camp Acheron were in a similar uproar, and I had no doubt that the enemy generals got the word already — of which they had two according to the Kralsenite’s reports — and all the other camps around the city would be up in arms in less than a minute. Riaret’s first ten companies would have to work fast and hard to mow down any resistance in the burning Camp Colosseum and thus creating a corridor for the rest of her army and the five thousand civilian crafters to go through. Reinos’ army, split into two contingents, were standing by, ready to take on and distract any reinforcements from other camps, and of course I could and would redirect artillery fire if and when it became necessary to suppress approaching enemy forces. I was hoping to minimise our casualties as much as possible, so I hoped both Riaret and Reinos would be able to hold their soldiers back and get them to disengage if I ordered it.

  I turned around and took a quick glance at the catapults of Hell’s Fury down in the square — the crews were adjusting angles and cranking the arms back, the loaders already waiting to put the next jars on.

  ‘Riaret! You’ll be up soon.’ I yelled over to the general, who was still watching as parts of Camp Colosseum were going up in flames.

  ‘We’re ready,’ she yelled back, not taking her eyes off the sight in the distance.

  ‘General! What do you think you’re doing?’ a new voice appeared out of nowhere.

  I turned to see a bulky fire-demon coming up to the battlements, beelining towards the general, with anger distorting his face as well as those of his two companions. I had not seen these guys before, so they weren’t Riaret’s captains, that much I was sure of, but I immediately got a feel for their levels; 33, 32 and 32.

  ‘Damn, even idiots like you have to realise this isn’t the time!’ Riaret roared at the trio of newcomers.

  ‘I did not give you permission to take my best crafters from my city!’ the demon roared back as he approached her.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the spotter of Hell’s Fury giving some sort of signal, and the second salvo, accompanied with the loud twangs of catapult springs and the fiery trail of burning jars, was away. I tore my eyes away from the argument that was brewing between my general and the unknown idiot, and watched the projectiles arc through the air and land right in the middle of Camp Colosseum, Camp Styx and Camp Acheron; blazing carnage of the highest order, tents and soldiers engulfed by flames — designated garrisons or not, they had no defence against good old-fashioned natural fire. And by all that was cursed and holy, my catapult crews were just damn good. I yelled over to the spotter,

  ‘Hell’s Fury: three more salvos to the middle of the camps, then three at the forward-facing fortifications. As fast and accurate as you can! Fire of the Fourth and Hellguide’s Hammer: keep shooting, keep Styx and Acheron pinned down and let the fuckers burn!’

  The spotter nodded with a grin and got on with his job, and when I turned around, I was disappointed to see that just five metres from me, on the top of the bloody city wall and in the middle of a battle that was just getting started, Riaret was still arguing with the huge fire-demons instead of getting ready to command and direct the first ten companies to overrun the burning camps.

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  ‘Riaret! What the hell?’ I shouted.

  She turned around sharply and marched over to me.

  ‘The city overseer.’ She spat the words. ‘After all this time, when we’re taking his crafters, he decides to come out to challenge me again. Stupid coward!’

  I just stared at the general for a couple of seconds. I hadn’t seen or even heard from Orroth’s overseer, and I had honestly thought, right until now, that Riaret had been in charge of the city. Apparently not.

  ‘We’re in combat, send him away!’ I told her.

  We didn’t have the time to spare on distractions like this. Riaret turned around again, but the overseer and his two escorts were already here, standing in front of us.

  ‘What in Ugrathar’s balls is this small demon, huh?’ the guy demanded as he looked me up and down, almost snarling at my general. ‘If you and your ilk want to go and get yourselves killed, just go; I’ll be happy to see you dead. But you’re not taking my crafters with you!’

  His crafters? I was under the impression that they were my crafters — as the ruling demon lord of the Fourth Ring, they were mine like everyone else. Even this guy was mine. Granted, I hadn’t really delved into the administrative and power structures of cities; all I knew was that they operated almost like independent city-states with an overseer in charge. An overseer was typically the highest level individual in any city, and he could set local rules and taxes like some sort of mini-king. But I didn’t have the time to deal with this nonsense; the batteries sent the third salvo out, and much to my annoyance I couldn’t observe and enjoy the results on account of the annoying intruders.

  ‘How have you not killed this guy yet?’ I asked Riaret.

  ‘He’s Grathelak, the city overseer,’ she said, and when I tried to shrug she explained. ‘I didn’t want to deal with a power-struggle for the position while under siege, so I just told him not to show his face in front of me again.’

  I just shook my head, looked up at the overseer and said,

  ‘Go away, mate, we’re busy!’

  ‘Who in the Five Rings do you think you are, huh? Get off the wall you misbegotten wildspawn!’ the guy swore at me and tried to brush me aside so he could resume his tirade aimed at Riaret.

  ‘Allow me to take this idiot’s head off, my Lord Hyde!’ she hissed with a vicious grin on her face.

  The overseer froze as he stood, along with his two goons, staring at me, probably unable to believe that a strange looking individual like me could be their new lord.

  The catapults were getting ready for their fourth salvo, and I was getting furious with the assholes distracting me from the operation. Had they been soldiers, I’d have recommended them to be court martialled, although I was sure Hell had much simpler procedures. Either way, I had just initiated a life-and-death battle, and I had no time whatsoever for bureaucratic nonsense or stupid power-struggles. Plus I was getting really annoyed with the guy, plus he had insulted the ruling demon lord, so I made up my mind very quickly to implement the simplest and fastest solution I could think of.

  ‘Grashon!’ I called the big fellow, and he was next to me in a blink of an eye.

  I stepped forward, ready to punch the overseer. Grathelak, still distracted by the revelation that I was in charge, was slow to react; I slammed my fist into his stomach with the speed and power my SAC’s synthfibers and levels could muster, just as Grash and Sur jumped at his two companions. The overseer bent over, hissing with pain. He tried to bring his beefy arms up — either to attack or to defend — but before he could do anything meaningful I grabbed the level 33 overseer by his waist. His considerable weight was no issue for my own levels and my SAC; I lifted him off the ground and jumped to the inside edge of the wall in a flash, and I threw him off. Grash and Sur followed my example without a moment’s hesitation, and thus the overseer and his two lackeys landed almost at the same time, with loud thuds and groans, some fifteen metres below on the hard stone tiles of the square. I didn’t even look down to check if they were alive or not — a fall like this was unlikely to kill higher level demons like the three stooges — and I said to Riaret,

  ‘Get a few of your soldiers to lock the idiots up somewhere! If they resist, kill them! He’s no longer overseer of this city.’

  ‘Right away,’ she acknowledged happily, sending wordless orders to her captains down in the square to get rid of the most idiotic of demons I’d come across so far — I supposed not all demons were created equal in Hell, not even in terms of situational awareness or mental capacity.

  Now I just had to make sure there wasn’t going to be some impromptu civil war for the position of city overseer happening should the idiot not survive the process of imprisonment. I supposed I could install someone else in his place now, but hardly knew anyone in Orroth, so I decided on someone I thought was well respected.

  ‘Send someone to find Fragnok and tell him he’s now city overseer by my authority!’ I told Grash.

  He rushed away along with my two scouts, Zag and Iska, so I knew the matter was in good hands. I wished I had the time to browse through the RMS to see if there was any requirement to make it official and to bestow any overseer-powers on the old crafter, but it had to wait.

  ‘Oh, so you can act like a normal demon if you put your mind to it. I’m quite impressed.’ Riaret purred at me with a big smile on her face, which was somewhere between genuine and genuinely terrifying. Was this demonic sarcasm or something?

  ‘He was in the way,’ I said as I rushed to the parapets on the other side of the wall so I could see the sixth salvo landing on the berms and trenches of the camp facing the city, bathing the enemy soldiers gathering there in beautiful, red and orange flames. ‘Riaret, get your soldiers ready! One more salvo and it’s your turn.’

  ‘Finally!’ she hissed with delight, and she turned around to leave and to join her army. But before she stepped onto the stairs she stopped, looked back and called out to me.

  ‘Hyde!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This is shaping up to be a beautiful day, isn’t it?’