Kathren's mouth twitched in amusement at the unspoken agreement the two sides of the battle had come two. Long minutes had passed since the battle lines reformed, an eternity in combat, and still, neither side moved to break the shaky trust of the other. Screams of agony and rage still filled the Middle Fort as they attacked each other, but how you died was an altogether different matter.

Who wanted to fall through a hole, plummeting a few hundred feet to their death? The beastkins might survive the fall, but they would definitely break a limb or two and probably be knocked unconscious. So, drowning would be a real possibility. A fact not limited to beastkins, as legionaries would end up in much the same situation given their heavy armor, even if they could slow their descent with psy to a point they would survive. As such, no one stepped within two feet of the hole's edge, and each side treated it like a wall blocking their actions.

An agreement everyone came to after some beastkins tried jumping over the hole to flank the legion lines in the first moments of the fighting around the pit. A few thrown rocks and a couple well-planted spears, and the beastkins had their momentum halted in the center of the hole. The screams of blood-curdling terror that abruptly stopped might have impacted the beastkins' choice not to try it again.

Another significant contributing faction to the unspoken agreement was that the legionaries had no reason to alter a battle that had them fighting shield to shield in cramped quarters… But that didn't stop Kathren from finding the whole sequence of events amusing.

Holding a spear in her dominant hand, the scout trainee was waiting as her mind wandered. When the time felt right, she thrust her spear forward, hitting a beastkin just to the right in the shoulder as his large axe was knocked to the side by a legionary in the front rank of the formation.

Small as the wound was, the pain caused the beastkin to release a roar and lower his weapon. With his upper body open, the legionary who caused the initial opening slashed out again, severing a vein in the beastkin's throat and releasing a river of blood that quickly covered his chest. Joining in on the attack, the man in front of the beastkin smashed his body into the second rank of their opponents with a shield bash, disrupting their cohesion.

The moment was fleeting, but the body impeded the movement of those behind and left those to the sides open. Seeing the opportunity they had been waiting for, the one giving commands ordered them to press forward, causing the entire century to act as one.

A surge of psy flooded into the three positioned to exploit the weakness, as they received a little bit of energy from everyone in the makeshift century. Reinforcing their shield casting, the three pulled themselves forward with another tendril as they jumped forward with all their strength, crouching behind their shields.

The legionary in the center of the spearhead slammed into the beastkins, who were still struggling to throw the body of their comrade to the ground. At the same time, the two legionaries on the sides wedged themselves into the gap, slashing at the beastkins on the sides of the hole to drive them back even half a step as they shoved themselves forward, pressing into the second line to support the point. Hot in their wake, Kathren and those around her pressed forward, adding to the momentum of the charge.

As Kathren stepped from the formation's third line into the second line, she hoisted her spear over her shoulder, then threw it at a beastkin who had turned to stab one of the leading legionaries in the back. Her aim was true, and the psy-propelled spear buried half a foot of its length into the beastkin's side.

Others in the front line pressing forward also threw or stabbed out with their weapons, making the front ranks of the beastkins look like a pincushion for a moment as blades and multiple spears entered their bodies to widen the hole. Stepping level with what had previously been the front rank of the legionary formation, Kathren pulled her sword out of its sheath and raised her new shield before moving into the brake in the enemy line. Damnit! Why am I in the fucking front again? She thought in annoyance.

Despite her irritation at her situation, Kathren kept moving forward with a steady stride, her eyes looking straight ahead, ignoring the beastkins to her sides and the threat they posed. Those behind her would deal with them and widen the brake in the beastkins line. Or they won't, and I'll die from a stab to the back… but it was better not to think about that.

Her goal, and those in front of her, was to plunge as deep into the beastkins as possible before they ground to a halt. With her second half-shuffle into the enemy formation, she felt and saw the left side of the arrowhead of their attack be struck in the left leg by a hand axe, causing her to stumble and take a spear to the throat as her shield dropped.

Fucking instincts! Kathren mentally cursed a moment later, leaping forward and sweeping her shield to the side. This is why you can never trust men in a union during battle!

The man who was right behind the tip of the charge and who was supposed to take the woman's place suddenly had his full attention on the woman bleeding to death at his feet. The one that anyone could tell with a glance was going to die, but rational thought didn't matter to him at that moment. He saw a woman in genuine need — an incompetent bitch he should have left to die — so he started to bend over to try and help her or something, which got him a beastkin spear to the guts for his efforts. "Fucking idiot!" Kathren hissed.

The bottom of her shield hit his backside, sending his body flying into the ankles of three beastkins, knocking them off their feet and forming a pile. Continuing to rush forward, Kathren stepped onto the woman's chest and slashed out with her sword at a beastkin who was attempting to flank the point of the attack. Moving off the woman's chest while ignoring her gurgling death whisper, Kathren blocked a club the union told her was coming at her from her left side while smashing a spear thrust downward with her sword.

Quick-stepping forward while sliding her blade over the wood, she let the edge slide along the shaft until she hit the wrist of the bitch holding it, causing the woman to jerk back and drop the weapon. Swinging her psy-reinforced shield forward, Kathren smashed the steel-cased corner into the beastkin's jaw, snapping her head back with a spray of blood and teeth.

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No longer scrambling to catch up, Kathren settled into her spot, which was a step behind and slightly to the left of the lead. Kathren and the two men, now comprising the point of the spearhead, slashed and stabbed out with their short swords at anything within reach, driving into the beastkin's ranks a half step at a time.

Blood was flung from their short swords with every swing, the droplets more often than not splattering against the beastkins a moment before the blow landed, inflicting another wound that added to the river of crimson. The air stank of copper and iron, and it was only thanks to the tendril around her gladius's hilt that the weapon didn't twist or fly from her grip from how slick the handle had become.

Kathren's breathing was ragged, as she seemed to be stuck in a nightmare that never ended as it repeated over and over. No matter how much or how hard she swung, the blood was running too much and too thick for all of it to be flung off her blade, and there was always another foe stepping forward.

Time and again, she blocked and slashed with her shield or sword before moving on or retaliating. One beastkin after the next appeared before her, and she sliced them open or battered them to the sides in sprays of hot blood that soaked her before leaving them for those behind her to finish off.

And then, in what felt like a blink of an eye, there were no more beastkins in her path, and she took a few stumbling steps forward without noticing the change. Coming to a stop and turning around in a half-daze, she found herself standing at the center of a line of legionaries slicing through the sixty or so beastkins still standing on her section of the Middle Fort.

Kathren watched the conflict while catching her breath. A flood of legionaries surged through and then around the two halves of the beastkin force, enveloping them. The inner side pushed the beastkin backward, finally breaking the unspoken agreement as they drove them over the ledge of the hole in the bridge. Having no other choice, the outer side of the formation went through the bloody work of hacking and slashing those pressed up against the inside wall.

The beastkins became more desperate as they saw the end nearing, lashing out with wide-sweeping attacks and reckless charges, attempting to knock back the legionaries and break out of the encirclement. But all it did was offer more openings for the shield wall to take advantage of. Seconds passed into minutes as the bloody work was done, and as the number required to finish the killing decreased, the centurion commanding them barked out, "Form up on me."

Kathren looked over, surprised to find him a few feet from her. She had never seen him before, and with the cluster fuck they were in, she was somewhat surprised they even had one in the century and not just an optio. Though she had been following his orders for a while now, she hadn't seen him, so she didn't know his rank… Probably should have expected him to be a centurion, she thought before dismissing the irrelevant concern and looking at the battle.

They had eighty people when they charged the right side of the hole, but now they numbered fifty-four after their losses. In comparison, the other side of the hole only had thirty-six people to hold back the other group of beastkins. But it was appropriate, as the hole in the ground wasn't centered. Kathrens right side was a little over twenty feet wide while the other was less than ten, so they needed more people.

At the centurion's command, twenty-five legionaries broke off from the back ranks of legionaries that were encircling the beastkin against the wall to form up with Kathren and the others. Turning, they all looked at the backs of the beastkins, who were pressing their comrades on the other side of the hole.

"On the double," came the centurion's words into their minds, "no one shouts until we start fighting. March!" As quietly as legionaries carrying fifty-plus pounds of weapons and clanking metal could manage, they quickly jogged around the hole in the Middle Fort.

Deafening and all-consuming as a battle was, those at the back of a formation still had more than enough time and wherewithal to look around. As such, none of them were surprised as several beastkins at the back of the group started pulling and shouting at those next to them, trying to get their attention.

Not that a few spots of resistance mattered. Hell, even if they all turned around, it wouldn't change the outcome, Kathren thought with a vicious grin, her face splattered with spots of hot beastkin blood.

"Charge!" Came the mental command they all were expecting, and the dozen or so yards between the two groups disappeared in seconds.

The few beastkins that had turned to face the new threat to their backs had their weapons batted to the side before being hacked into, while those with their back turned were cut down in a single slash or stab of the blade. Kathren and her comrades tore into the helpless beastkins like a scythe through wheat.

None of them had a chance, as the attack was as unexpected as it was savage. In what felt like a matter of seconds, but had to be a couple minutes, Kathren was face to face with another legionary, her sword raised for another blow, feet planted on the backs of the dead.

Slowly, she lowered her sword, blinking at her counterpart in mild confusion. The sweat and blood-covered woman gave Kathren a nod and clapped her on the shoulder, relief filling her face as she stumbled past the scout trainee. Turning around, Kathren moved to follow the woman, knowing that everyone was forming at the gap where the gate and more beastkins should be.

Gaze sweeping over the fort as she turned, her eyes caught on the centuries holding the ruins of the northern gate. They were standing at what had become a wall of piled bodies and bricks, forcing the beastkin to climb over the dead and face their spears.

On the walls of the Middle Fort, and laying in pools of blood inside them, were the bodies of legionaries and flying beastkins. Some of them had their arms wrapped around each other, knives and short spears clenched in their fists, and driven into the other's backs and sides in some twisted mockery of a hug.

Even now, dozens of archers on the walls and towers were constantly releasing flights of arrows into the air, keeping the circling beastkins at bay. Dead filled the fort, and Kathren would be surprised if they still had half of their original numbers, but she could not stop the fierce smile from spreading on her face.

Regardless of the battering, they held.

Head high, Kathren finished her turn, and her eyes fell into the line of those marching to the western gate, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked down its length. A couple hundred beastkins were gathered around the ladder to the bridge. A dozen feet from them, Kathren recognized the body of the beastkin who knocked her and everyone else behind her onto their collective ass.

His chest had a wound from shoulder to hip, and it looked deep enough to hit his spine. Though shocking to see a being able to knock a hundred people dozens of feet away dead, that was not what surprised Kathren.

Up until this point, a constant flood of beastkins was coming up the massive ladder and onto the Western Bridge. The rush had apparently fallen to a trickle before stopping entirely as she watched. A sight she could only see clearly a moment longer before the beastkins were blocked from view.

A column of smoke suddenly blotted out the middle of the bridge, and it was expanding by the second. Kathren's smile took on a cruel twist, and Kathren waited where she stood. The beastkins would either suffocate in the smoke or be cut down by one of their blades as they staggered out of the smoke in a scattered mess.

All she had to do now was wait to find out which they would choose.

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