Knights Apocalyptica

The intruder's bloodied maw wrinkled as it sniffed the air—this close, it was easy to see its vaguely dog-like stature. If one ignored the almost vein-like wires jabbing into its throat and jaw or the steel blades jutting out from its back.

Its strained, bloodshot eyes were forcibly held open by pins jabbed into their lids. For a half-second, it took in Erec and then shifted its attention to Colin.

Who'd frozen near the entryway.

Then it lept at him.

Erec yanked his hatchet free and threw himself between the monster and his friend. A blade snapped out of one of its flailing legs. Triggered by a pulse of one of those veins jabbed in it—the unnaturally sharp weapon ripped through his Armor and into his left arm.

The beast’s maw snapped in his face. Those jagged metal teeth, a row of daggers, a single bite would tear through him. Erec swung his hatchet into the Render’s side as he felt heat flush through him and bleed from the tear in his already wounded arm.

With a new gash, the Render managed to flip through the air. It landed carefully as a trail of oil and blood leaked from its flank. Even with the wound, it didn’t whine. There were no sounds. As if it didn’t feel the pain, the monstrosity displayed not a single care; a second later, it threw itself at Erec again.

A thin white barrier of light popped into existence between him and the Render. Dimly, Erec heard the priest dive into prayer. As the monster’s blade slammed into the light, the whole creature slowed.

The tip of that weapon was moving slowly toward his skull. Without the aid, it would’ve ended him.

Erec bit his lip—blood ran down as fire ripped through him, as he let Fury go. The monster wasn’t the only one who didn’t need pain.

He whipped the hatchet into the creature’s exposed stomach, and the force of the blow threw it clear from the barrier. It tumbled over itself as it hit the ground, soaring past the priest and staining dirt with more blood and oil.

Not enough.

Erec closed the distance in an instant, snapping all of his strength through his heel into the ground to throw him. With an overhead swing, he buried the hatchet into the Render’s skull.

It was enough to end it. The monster went limp, blood poured free. Erec laughed, basking in his victory.

“H-holy shit.” Colin said, looking at the corpse of the two lost Knights. Alister struggled to his feet, taking raspy breaths as the priest made a sign over their chest. “How did one of them—“

More noises outside. Chaos.

The battle had begun in earnest, it seemed. Erec’s body shuddered as Fury waned as the machine in his head and that cold fire eased him.

His arm burned. The gashes bled, and he felt weak.

[Noncritical. That wound will mend with the shoulder, however, get that priest to—]

Another Render joined them in the tent—followed by a second.

The first one moved like a predator. From the moment it entered the space, it set its eyes on a victim and pounced before Erec could call Fury back and before the priest could say a word.

Blood coated the tent as its foreleg jabbed a blade through Alister’s gut. The knight collapsed, his jaw landing on the blades on the monster’s back as his guts spilled on the ground.

Crimson, deep ruby red blood pooled beneath him as he took his last breath. Colin formed a glyph, falling back to magic, but it was too slow.

It only took a second to steal a life.

The priest screamed and fell back as far as he could, trying to put distance between himself and the monsters.

If nothing happened, they’d die. Hell surged through Erec’s veins. Time slowed as Erec watched the second monster start to pick a target. Alister’s eyes lost their gloss as the beast began to shake him free.

VAL tried to fire off a dozen instructions, none of them relevant.

No, Erec wouldn’t run.

No. This was his fight.

The fire burned him away, consuming his life just as the monster took away Alister’s, leaving nothing but ash. He welcomed it, gave it everything.

Erec threw his hatchet through the air, nailing the monster that killed Alister. It swayed in its spot with the handle sticking out of it, convulsing as it slumped to the ground.

The other one didn’t wait; it jumped through the air right as Colin did; there wasn’t time for the glyph to complete. Without Armor, Colin would die, just like Alister.

Without thinking, Erec yanked the gun from his satchel free. Aiming it was easy. Pulling the trigger easier.

A bang rang through the tent as the walls expanded from the burst of force. The monster exploded in the middle of the air—guts, and giblets flying freely to coat everyone inside with blood and gore.

Another came into the tent.

Easy problem. Erec pulled the trigger again; the pitiful thing evaporated into meat paste.

Erec lowered the gun as Colin and the priest stared at him, their eyes wide open. Their jaws hung. He calmly walked over to the corpse of the monster that mangled Alister and pulled the hatchet free from its skull with one jerk. One of its blades was still popped out from its leg—a free weapon. Erec slammed the hatchet into the joint and tore the fleshy blade free.

A fine enough weapon. Not an axe. Not quite a sword. It would work to paint everything in blood.

Inside, the hell raged uncontested, no voice to argue against it, burning in both hot and cold. It’d won. He’d given everything to it, and if it incinerated him at the end, it’d be fine if he took enough demons with him.

[Oh my buckeroo! We’ve crossed a line, haven’t we?]

“E-erec?!” Colin said.

“Hide. The weak hide.” Erec growled, the Render’s jagged blade trailing across the dirt.

The priest stared at him as he threw the gun at Colin. For a second, Colin juggled the weapon, nearly dropping it. Erec turned away before he could see since it didn’t matter.

They weren’t strong enough, but he could be.

Erec threw the tent wide open.

Hell had broken out over the entirety of the encampment. Less than a mile away, air twisted and flowed. A rend in reality itself distorted light and tore a hole through the world. Light and shadow mingled on its twisted surface, a broken gradient around its jagged and cracked border. A rift. The hole that connected their world to another, this one was roughly the size of a building.

Renders left it by the dozen, given free reign to attack the encampment as they rushed past defenders strained to protect two flanks.

Good. More to kill.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

Blood. Glorious blood. Every swing of this blade brought more as it sliced through the Renders. Each move drew more Strength, pushing past anything he'd felt. The power was intoxicating, capacity only a figment of the imagination. It didn't matter if you let it all burn away.

Fury was boundless Strength.

When had he lost sight of that? Why had he wanted anything else?

It only promised more the more he drew from that neverending well in hell.

Fire flooded his veins, bodies left in a haphazard path behind him.

A Render attacked from the top of a steel wagon; Erec stepped aside smoothly, then tore the blade through the thing's underside with a lazy slash. Its body split as two hunks of meat landed on either side of him.

Erec laughed, turning around and flinging his hatchet at the thing's friend, splitting through its skull and halfway through its body in one smooth motion.

Another blinking notification popped into existence in the corner of his vision. They were unimportant and came intermittently as he fought. The last two hours flew by in a blaze of fun. When his body began to shake, more fire came from within to replenish his veins.

The voice in his head did all it could to keep him going, but why bother?

Even if his left arm was harder to use, he'd adapted. There wasn't pain, not even when he took a stab.

Erec tore through the battlefield in a glorious dance, each new Render a new partner to join him on the stage. They put on a show, an ode to life and death. Every swing of his blade a new move, every dead partner a new song. If his blade grew dull, as they were prone to do after a couple of kills, he hacked another one free from his last partner.

How kind of them to provide for the show.

Each of their stabs, every time one shredded through his Armor, encouragement. He could hear the demons below applause as the blood poured from him.

A good dancer knew how to share the stage.

Around him, Knights pushed forward in their own desperate battles; they gave their all, even their lives, to stave off this infestation.

In the distance, a small team fought to get to the Rift. On the other side of the camp, more fought to repel the beasts' main army. A brutal and supremely beautiful battle.

Corpses decorated the wastes as they had, as they always would.

Erec recovered his hatchet and kicked the dead creature it'd been buried in. The limp body flew into a steel wagon.

"Erec?" A distantly familiar voice asked. It was a man with a large sword held easily on his shoulder. They'd painted their Armor with as much blood as Erec's own, even if it was sleeker. "Is that you?"

Erec didn’t respond. A new Render darted by; they were fast little bastards. But the more he’d fought against them, the faster he got it. Their speed was a part of the dance. He tossed the hatchet again, skimming past the vaguely familiar Knight to tear off one of the monster’s legs.

The Render crashed into the ground, flipping from the speed.

In an instant, Erec was on it. His stolen blade jabbed through the beast’s chest, though, this time, it was harder to push through. Damn blade. It twitched beneath him as it died; Erec lopped off a new weapon to hurry it along to hell.

“By the Goddess. You fight like a beast.”

“Shut up,” Erec growled, annoyed. Their voice was too much. Why all the talking? There was more battle all around them.

The Knight, for their part, didn’t protest. Instead, they joined him. Erec tore into more monsters—picking larger battles with an ally fighting at his side. Their great big sword flung through the air and moved with surprising agility for such a bulky weapon. They fought in a similar manner, switching like water as they flowed smoothly between prayer, magic, and raw strength.

Without any hesitation, they swapped their fighting for each situation.

Incredible. Such raw potential for fighting; in a way, that natural instinct for efficient fighting rang in Erec’s burning heart. It drew him out further as he burned away.

The Knight adapted when Erec pressed the assault— always at his side, keeping pace in a way few others could. It was like having another weapon to use.

When he lashed out, they defended. When Erec yanked another limb free from one of the monsters, they killed another.

Someone else who understood the glory of battle. A silent understanding formed as they gave up the pretense of talking and joined him in war. Even as Erec raged, he saw something wonderful.

There was someone else who understood how to kill.

How to slaughter.

They knew the pure joy of crushing these things completely.

In the distance, the Rift shook, its tears retreating as the host of Knights sent out to contain it did their job. With man's might, the tear to another world was forcibly closed. No new Renders would be joining this attack.

All that was left was killing the survivors.

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