Dark shadows made their way across the dark fields in several files, approaching the looming city walls where dozens of bonfires were lit at the base, providing a source of light for the sentries on the walls. Metal scrapped and squeaked against each other as the silent shadows marched towards the walls.

Magical detection spells set by the defenders suddenly burst into life as the shadows touched the spells, sparks and magic flares erupting from the triggered spells illuminated the surrounding fields. The lights flickered off the black armor of the Empire soldiers who continued to advance without any changes, heading straight for the remaining few refugees camped at the outside of the city with hopes that the gates will open for them in the morning.

Screams broke out among the refugees as they woke up to a firework display that lit up the advancing soldiers. The black-clad soldiers rampaged through the camps, killing and slaughtering everyone regardless of age or gender. The defenders on the walls looked on in fear and confusion as they saw figures in dark armor attacking everyone below the walls.

Alarms rang and the sentries aimed their crossbows at the Empire force wreaking havoc below. Commanders and leaders screamed at the sentries to shoot their bolts and arrows at the attacking soldiers.

Hundreds of bolts and arrow rained down from the walls, slamming into the mass of enemy infantry and any unlucky refugee into a porcupine. The city was awakened as bells rang of the night attack and more and more soldiers appeared on the walls.

But to the defenders' surprise, the enemy soldiers riddled with dozens and dozens of bolts and arrows appeared to be fine, as they continued their butchery of the panicked refugees. The defenders looked at each other in a panic wondering what sorcery are they dealing with, while their commanders continued to order them to shoot their crossbows and arrows.


Frontier City, Last Company Camp

Captain Borse stood before his assembled men who were dressed in all forms of patched up armor and different colored tabards. His men were made up from a collection of fallen kingdoms and he was proud of them, for each of his men in his company were like brothers who had fought and bled for each other.

"Captain! The 843 men of The Last Company have all assembled!" The company senior sergeant holding the company's standard which looked like a patchwork of multiple colors stitched together by the womenfolk reported.

Borse nodded and was able to address the company when a messenger riding a war dragon covered with red and yellow trappings reined in before Borse and gave a quick salute before yelling, "Commander's orders are for your company to reinforce the third section of the Eastern Wall!"

"You are to make your way there now!" The messenger removed a roll of orders and double checked the scroll before he handed over to Borse and jerked his reins, turning the war dragon around and rode off. "Got to go! More orders to deliver!"

Borse nodded and took the offered order scroll before he turned to his men, "Group leaders! Form up the men, we head to the third section of the Eastern Walls now!"


Fields before the Walls

Several mage lights shot out over the walls to illuminate the fields showed the enemy soldiers finishing up the remaining refugees too slow to escape. A cold evil aura appeared to flow out from the enemy that demoralized the defenders especially when the orders came down to not open the sally ports to engage the enemy in close combat and save the refugees.

The defenders could only shoot off bolts and arrows at the strangely silent enemy whose eyes appeared to glow red in the shadows.

Borse's men quickly climbed up the winding tower and onto the battlements, joining the Meccan company of Guardians on the walls. The men spread out among the stretch of wall between the two towers that defined the area which they are ordered to defend.

Borse looked out over the battlements and felt a chill down his spine as he looked at the silent enemy and asked. "What do you think?"

A soft looking aristocratic youngster with long braided hair wearing a set of tailor-made half plate stood beside Borse and frowned. His perfect eyebrows narrowed artistically as he looked at the slaughter below. "It's strange, they are too quiet..."

"Yes, wearing that armor and wielding weapons will make men pant and yell," Borse frowned, "I don't even hear anything coming from those Empire soldiers other than the screams of the refugees!"

"You are right," The aristocrat said, "And they seemed immune to arrows and bolts."

"Taris, is this what we heard about before we came here?" Borse asked, "The Empire's secret weapons?"

"I think so," Taris replied as he rubbed his dragon hide gloves against his chin. "Look they are retreating!"

"Bastards!" Borse brooded, "Them Empire sent those bastards just to kill off the refugees!"

Taris nodded absentmindedly as he fell into his own thoughts, while Borse cursed at the retreating Empire soldiers when a horn blew from one of the towers. "Looks like the lords and commanders are being called to gather up."

"This is unnatural," Taris said, "I don't know what foul magic is being used here but it doesn't bore well for us."

"As long we get to kill those bastards!" Borse replied, "If the Grey Lord had let those poor folk in, we won't have these deaths on us."

Taris nodded, thinking back of his castle when it got razed down by the Empire. "The men of the Last Company will do their best to prevent what had happened to their homes and families."


Black Scorpion Legion I Camp

Lines of Bronze men marched into the camp with various degrees of wounds. Most of the Bronze men had arrows or bolts sticking out from their armored bodies but they continued to remain silent, the only sound coming from them were the stomp of footsteps and the squeak of metal against metal.

The men of the Black Scorpion watched the Bronze men marching back to their places with fearful expressions, some whispered prayers to their gods while others kept well away from the Bronze men.

As the Bronze men settled down, a small army of mages and their apprentices followed by healers tend to the Bronze men's maintenance and wounds.

The Rock strolled among the Bronze men, watching the apprentices removing or snapping off arrow shafts before taking the armor off the corpse grey bodies of the Bronze men. Puncture wounds left behind by the arrows and bolts left a finger sized hole with a thick purple red pus like blood clotting around the wound.

He watched the healers removing the arrow shafts and cleaned the wounds while the mages shoved rubbery hoses made from the intestines of some monsters into the mouths of the Bronze men and force feeding them some arcana concoction that gave the Bronze men the energy to keep moving.

"My lord," A skinny robed mage with a head of thinning white hair approached him while bowing, "We hardly lost a single Bronze man from the arrows and bolts of the enemy!"

The Rock nodded and asked the Master Mage in charge of the Bronze men, "Does the injuries hampered them?"

"Oh, no!" The Master Mage cried out excitedly, "They will heal in time, as long as they don't lose a limb or two, they will function as normal!"

The Rock looked at the silence figures of naked Bronze men being worked on by healers and mages. There were even a few females among the ranks he noticed. "When will they be ready to fight again?"

"Once we finish feeding them... by dawn?" The mage frowned as he mentally calculated, "No, an hour before dawn, they should be ready."

"Good," He turned around and gestured one of his aides who hurried over bowing, "Call the commanders to gather at my tent within an hour."

His aided bowed again before rushing off to carry out his order.

He returned to his tent and not long, his commanders arrived one by one. "Hows the progress of the siege equipment?"

A stout elf in simple leathers stood forward and saluted, "We have already assembled four of the trebuchets, eight ballistas, two siege towers, and rams from our baggage trains."

"A further 200 ladders were crafted using the trees here," The siege engineer said, "The remaining two trebuchets and two siege towers will be completed by dawn."

The Rock nodded before turning his attention to his legion commanders. "We will attack at dawn when the siege equipment is in position."

"Atus, I want you to take command of all the Legion Cavalry and go to block off the main eastern road behind Frontier City to prevent anyone from escaping or reinforcing the city." The Rock looked at one of the commanders who held saluted at the order.

"4th and 5th Legion is to attack the Eastern walls," He continued giving orders, "2nd and 3rd to take the North while the 1st is to go for the West walls."

"Start the attack with firebombs before committing the slave troops," The Rock said, "The legions are to advance behind the slaves."

"My lord how about the south harbor of the city?" One of the commanders asked.

"Don't worry, Admiral Steelore is waiting at the other side with his fleet to ambush any Meccan or Foral ships that dare to close his path." He replied. "Now get some rest, the sun will be up in a few hours!"


The sky slowly brightened over the horizon, turning the clouds orange red. The Empire elite Legions had formed up in ranks waiting for their commanders to give the word for the assault. Each legion held three thousand elite infantry, a thousand cavalry and 500 archers with another 50 mages for magic support, and over three thousand followers like wagon drivers, blacksmiths, cleaners, cooks and even prostitutes that support the entire marching army.

The breaking of dawn was herald by several large clay pots filling with burning resin. The smoking pots arced over the skies and smashed against the walls, spewing its burning content over walls and the defenders.

Screams and bells rang from the city as the Empire siege engines tossed more and more clay pots filling flammable resin onto the city walls and its defenders. The city ballistas quickly responded back by firing massive bolts towards the Empire siege engines hidden behind a bulwark of earthenworks.

The thick oily and smelly smoke helped mask the approaching Empire slave army as they made their way towards the city walls, but despite that, some of the arrows and bolts from the defenders still managed to find a mark among the lightly armored warrior slaves.

Over twelve thousand slaves attacked in three directions. They wore light leather armor and armed with a spear or a simple sword and shield into battle. Should they survive the battle, they will granted their freedom and become an official citizen of the Empire.

The warrior slaves carried the long green wood ladders crafted the night before and charged towards the walls where the defenders were blinded by the fire and smoke. Any slave that ran away from the battle were mercilessly cut down by the Empire legions behind them.

The long wobbly ladders slammed against the walls and the slaves attempted to climb up onto the battlements of the walls but showers of hot sand and oil rained down on them, sending the climbers screaming down to the ground while others rolled and screamed in agony on the ground as the hot sand burned their eyeballs away and the boiling oil fried their flesh.

Despite the horrors going on before the slaves, more and more ladders slammed against the walls and the slaves plowed on, most falling to the ground breaking bones and limbs as the ladders were hoisted off the walls by the defenders.

"For the Empire! KILL!"

A note from neo Koh

Advance chapters are available on Pat-reon




Join the discussion in Discord




Donate/Support me via Paypal now!



Support "Out of Space"

About the author

neo Koh


Log in to comment
Log In

Log in to comment
Log In