Chapter 357 - 350 — The Advance Stops

Southwestern demon assault line

Gorvak watched a Hellmaw shell burst beside the tollhouse and raised his sword.

"Forward! Get across while their heads are down!"

The overseers drove the lesser demons out of the quarry. They came with the same equipment as always knives, chipped swords and clubs, pushing through gaps between the ruined buildings. Those at the back shoved the demons ahead of them, while others climbed over broken walls to reach the open ground.

Beyond the smoke, part of an alliance shelter had collapsed.

One overseer pointed at it.

"They’ve broken their gun!"

"Then stop admiring it," Gorvak snapped. "Move!"

Rifle shots cracked from the defenses.

A demon carrying a mace stumbled, recovered for two strides and fell onto its face. Another dropped its club and clutched at the blood pouring between its fingers.

The demons behind them kept running.

Gorvak had expected losses. If the fodder reached the wall while the defenders were still recovering from the bombardment, the Iron Maw Legion could follow them in.

Then a machine gun opened fire beside the tollhouse.

BRRRRRRRRT!

The leading group broke apart.

Bullets tore through bare chests and scraps of stolen armor. A wooden shield split across its center, and its bearer disappeared beneath the demons falling around it.

A second gun joined the first.

Gorvak looked toward the collapsed shelter.

The firing was coming from a wall beside it.

"They moved the damned thing."

Another burst swept across the flank. Demons following the ruined outbuilding toward the connecting trench fell before reaching cover. Those behind them stopped, collided and spilled into the open ground to get around the bodies.

Fire from farther behind the tollhouse caught them there.

Gorvak could hear the weapons overlapping. When one paused, others continued, with rifle shots cracking between their bursts.

A shell exploded against the alliance wall.

One gun disappeared behind dust.

"Go!" an overseer roared.

Several dozen demons rose from their shelters.

The other guns cut into them before they had crossed the road. The overseer took three steps before falling backward with his jaw torn away.

Gorvak ducked behind a ruined shed.

The first wave had stopped well short of the ditch. Demons lay flat among the dead or crowded into shell holes, while fresh groups continued emerging from the quarry behind them.

An officer caught a crouching demon by the arm.

"Get up!Get up you pathetic idiots"

The demon pulled free and crawled deeper into its hole.

The officer raised his weapon.

A rifle shot knocked him against the bank.

Then an alliance rune-cannon fired. Blue-white light struck among the demons gathering near the quarry road, throwing bodies against a broken wagon.

Gorvak pressed himself against the shed as fragments struck its stones.

"Clear the road!" he shouted. "Let the Warhounds through!"

Kharos watched the assault through Sareth’s observation spell.

The mage shifted the image between the tollhouse and the adjoining shelters, following each Hellmaw shell as it struck.

"Short of the shelter," he reported. "Against the bank."

Captain Drazek called a correction to the gun officer.

Behind them, a Hellmaw discharged.

KA-BOOM!

The shell burst close enough to throw earth over the shelter’s roof. Its firing opening disappeared beneath the dust, then flashed again as the gunner resumed shooting.

Kharos turned toward Drazek.

"Still firing."

"We need a direct hit, my lord. Most of the shelter is protected by the bank around it."

"The other one collapsed."

"And they carried the weapon out."

Drazek pointed toward the old side wall. A gun was firing from behind it.

Kharos watched demons fall across its field of fire.

The Hellmaws were striking much closer to the defenses than the Skullbreakers had managed. Soldiers were being wounded, walls were breaking, and the crews had to take cover whenever shells landed nearby.

But their weapons kept returning to action.

Sareth moved the view toward the flank.

"There is another position there, wait a minute my lord there are 6 of those canons."

"How many?"

"Six."

Kharos looked at Rhaz.

"The report said two."

"They must have received reinforcements."

"And so it seems."

The Warhounds were advancing along the approaches, all eleven committed to the assault. The leading two had cleared the quarry buildings. Others followed across the broken ground, finding routes around wrecks, walls or whatever approach they could find.

Rhaz stepped closer.

"The Iron Maw Legion is ready."

"Bloodfang too."

Kharos pointed toward the demons sheltering in the field.

"I am not sending them into that until the guns are dealt with."

At Senn’s command post in the tollhouse’s rear passage, Orven turned toward the doorway for the third time.

There was nobody there except a runner waiting beneath the ward.

The human mage shifted his grip on his staff. The feeling persisted: someone was watching him, though he could find no eyes to meet.

Senn finished giving an order and noticed him looking.

"What is it?"

"Those guns are beyond the quarry?"

"That is the report."

"Then their crews probably cannot see where the shells land."

A shell exploded outside. Dust fell from the archway, and the runner covered his head.

Senn waited for the noise to pass.

"They seem to be managing."

"They are getting closer to the firing shelters with each correction. Someone must be telling them where to aim."

"An observer in the ruins?"

"Possibly. But I have felt watched since the bombardment began." Orven glanced toward the doorway again. "I suspect a mage using an observation spell."

"You have found one?"

"Not yet. It would explain how they are following our positions from behind the quarry."

Senn looked toward the old wall, where Borr’s gun had resumed firing.

"Disrupt it, then."

"I can interfere with magical observation across this section. If I am right, they will lose the view they need to correct their shots. They can still fire at places they have already marked."

"Will our men be able to see?"

"Ordinary sight will be unaffected. The Warhounds will still be able to see us too."

"Then we will deal with those separately."

Senn called the elven mage working beside the passage.

"Protect this entrance. Orven needs to concentrate."

The elf raised a barrier beneath the damaged arch. Orven planted his staff against the stones and drew power through the surviving ward markings along the wall.

A faint shimmer spread across the tollhouse and its adjoining shelters.

Beyond it, the field remained visible. The riflemen continued firing without noticing the change.

Orven closed his eyes and chanted the spell.

Sareth’s image blurred around the tollhouse.

He passed a hand over the tablet. The open field remained clear, but the shelters stretched into pale streaks whenever he tried to examine them.

Kharos leaned closer.

"What happened?"

"Someone is interfering with the view."

"Clear the view."

Sareth shifted it above the defenses. For a moment, the roof of a shelter sharpened.

Then it dissolved again.

"He is interfering wherever I look inside their position."

Drazek came to the table.

"Where did the last round land?"

"I saw it reach the wall. I lost the view before it struck."

The captain looked toward Kharos.

"We can continue firing at the positions we have already ranged. Without a clear view, I cannot judge the corrections or tell whether a crew has moved."

"Keep firing. Sareth, get through it."

The mage bent over his tablet.

He tried approaching the position from the side. The quarry road and the advancing Warhounds remained visible, but the interference spread across the image as soon as his attention reached the alliance shelters.

For several breaths, he forced a narrow view through it.

A wall appeared. A gun muzzle flashed behind it.

Sareth strained to hold the image.

Under the archway at Senn’s command post, Orven felt something press against his interference. Someone was trying to see through it. He drew another breath, braced his staff and fed more power into the spell.

The opening in Sareth’s view closed.

The demon mage’s fingers tightened against the tablet.

Kharos watched a Warhound stop on the road and turn its cannon toward the defenders.

"The machines can still see them," he said. "Let their guns do the work."

Nesk felt the Warhound’s shell strike before he saw where it had landed.

Stone burst from the old side wall. Borr and his crew disappeared behind the dust, and their machine gun fell silent.

Then it began again.

BRRRRRRRRT!

"Stubborn F*****," Nesk muttered.

His helper crouched beside him with an anti-armor round.

The leading Warhound was firing around one of the burned wrecks. Its turret faced the tollhouse, but part of its side had become visible between the ruined machines.

Nesk raised the launcher.

THUMP!

The round struck the exposed plating.

A torn metal cover spun into the road. The Warhound lurched, slowed and continued forward, smoke leaking from the damaged side.

Its turret began turning toward Nesk.

"Again."

Before his helper could pass the next round, another launcher fired from the flank.

Corporal Rikk, the young goblin leading the new crew, had chosen the second Warhound. His round exploded against its front armor.

The machine came through the smoke with its cannon still moving.

Both tanks answered.

BOOM! BOOM!

Nesk dropped below the opening. Earth struck his shelter’s wall, while a ward flared above Rikk’s position farther along the trench.

The instructor caught Nesk’s shoulder when he tried to rise.

"Wait."

Fragments rattled across the entrance.

When they stopped, Nesk looked out.

Both Warhounds remained dangerous. The leading machine had slowed, but its gun was still turning. The other continued forward beside it.

His helper peered past him.

"We hit them."

"I noticed and they appear to have noticed as well."

A runner crouched at the entrance.

"Rikk’s crew is still firing. One carrier wounded."

The instructor glanced toward the flank, then leaned close to the runner so he could hear over the gunfire.

"Fire both launchers on the leading Warhound. Tell Rikk to have his helper watch my hand. When I drop it, we fire at it together."

The runner nodded and hurried into the trench.

Nesk crouched beneath the opening, the launcher resting across his knees. A fresh burst struck the stones outside, showering his shoulder with grit.

"Pass me a shell."

His helper pulled one from the box and pushed it into his waiting hand. Nesk loaded it, wiped his dusty palm against his trousers and glanced toward the instructor.

"The other bastard will keep shooting."

"Then let us finish one before it kills somebody."

A Hellmaw shell burst behind the tollhouse. The blast drove dust through the shelter and sent the ammunition carriers outside scrambling into the passage. Nesk bent over the launcher while his helper covered the open ammo box with his body.

Near the command entrance, Orven was thrown against the wall. His concentration slipped, and the tollhouse briefly appeared on Sareth’s tablet.

"There!" the demon mage shouted.

Drazek hurried to the table, but Orven dragged himself upright and forced power back into the spell. The image blurred before the captain could examine the shelters.

At Nesk’s position, the runner returned with one hand pressed to a bleeding scrape on his cheek.

"Rikk is ready. His helper can see you."

The instructor nodded and raised his hand beside the opening.

Nesk drew his feet beneath him. His mouth was dry, and the launcher seemed determined to slide against his sweaty palm. He tightened his grip and looked at his helper.

"Loaded?"

The goblin nodded, then flattened himself against the wall.

"Loaded. Go."

"Three," Nesk said.

Outside, the leading Warhound had stopped beside the wreck. Its cannon was turning toward Borr’s position again.

"Two."

Nesk drew a breath through his teeth and brought the launcher against his shoulder.

"One!"

The instructor dropped his hand.

Nesk rose into the opening and fired.

THUMP! THUMP!

Rikk’s discharge followed so closely that the two reports almost merged.

The rounds struck the same Warhound, one against the forward edge of its hull and the other against its side. Smoke burst across the turret, and a piece of plating spun away into the road.

"Hit!" Nesk’s helper shouted, gripping his shoulder. "Both hit!"

For a moment, Nesk thought they had finished it. The engine faltered, and the machine shuddered where it stood.

Then the cannon moved through the smoke.

"Oh, f***—down!"

He dropped, dragging his helper with him.

BOOM!

The shell struck the tollhouse’s upper floor. Masonry crashed into the yard behind Borr’s crew, and a broken beam slammed across the passage outside.

At Senn’s command post, the elven mage thrust her barrier higher. Falling stones shattered against it while two soldiers dragged a wounded man beneath her arms.

Nesk spat grit onto the floor and shoved himself upright.

"Another round!"

His helper was already reaching into the box. The goblin flinched as a stone struck the roof, then swore at himself and pulled the shell free.

"Here!"

CLACK.

Nesk braced the launcher again. His shoulder hurt where he had struck the wall, but he barely noticed it now.

The instructor glanced through the opening.

"Its gun is going back toward Borr."

"Not this time."

Nesk rose, teeth clenched, and fired into the exposed side.

THUMP!

Flame pushed through the damaged plating. The turret jerked, stopped and remained pointing toward the tollhouse.

Nesk stayed at the opening, breathing hard.

A hatch flew open. A demon hauled itself halfway out before fire followed it through. It fell across the hull and disappeared down the far side.

Then the Warhound shook under a heavy internal explosion.

WHUMP!

Burning fragments burst from the hatch.

Nesk slapped the edge of the opening.

"Got you, you bastard!"

His helper laughed once, sharply, then leaned beside him to look.

"Who gets that one?"

"Ask me when the other stops shooting."

The second Warhound’s cannon flashed almost as he spoke.

Its shell struck the bank beside Rikk’s shelter. Earth burst across the roof, and the ward flared before flickering out of sight. For several seconds, Nesk could see nothing of the launcher opening.

"Rikk?"

He leaned farther out, searching through the dust.

The instructor caught the back of his collar.

"Stay under cover!"

"Their bloody shelter—"

"I can see it. Stay here!"

A soldier stumbled out of the connecting passage, coughing and waving one arm.

"They’re alive! The rear entrance is partly blocked!"

Nesk let out the breath caught in his chest. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then reached behind him without looking.

"Shell."

His helper pressed one into his palm.

The surviving Warhound was turning away from the burning machine. Its cannon remained aimed at Rikk’s shelter, but the movement exposed more of its side to Nesk.

He brought the launcher up.

"Come on. Keep turning."

The instructor’s hand settled against his back, steadying him as another explosion shook the stones.

Nesk fired.

The round struck beneath the turret. Smoke and torn metal burst from the hull, and the Warhound lurched to a halt.

"There!" his helper shouted.

Nesk was already ducking to reload.

"Has the gun stopped?"

The instructor looked out.

"No. It is coming toward us."

The next round knocked against Nesk’s fingers. He caught it, swore and pulled it close. Above the wall, the Warhound’s cannon continued turning.

Then Rikk’s launcher fired.

THUMP!

The explosion flashed through the smoke around the damaged hull. Flame surged from beneath the turret, and the cannon dipped.

Nesk rose just enough to see over the broken edge.

"Stay there," he muttered. "Stay fucking there."

The gun did not move again.

Across the trench, a small hand appeared at Rikk’s firing opening and formed a fist.

Nesk raised his own in reply, then sank against the wall. Only when he reached for another round did he notice how badly his fingers were shaking.

His helper noticed too, but said nothing. He held the shell steady until Nesk had it.

"Loaded?" the instructor asked.

"Give me a moment."

Nesk drew a breath, settled the round and closed the launcher.

CLACK.

"Now."

Across the field, demons who had crawled behind the two machines were scrambling away. The machine guns caught those trying to reach the connecting trench.

Gorvak saw the second Warhound burn.

The machines had advanced farther than the infantry. Demons had followed them through the cover, expecting their cannons to silence the defenders.

Now those demons were coming back.

A lesser demon carrying two knives crashed into Gorvak’s legs. He caught it by the neck and shoved it aside.

It lost one knife, glanced toward the firing shelters and decided to leave it where it lay.

An overseer stumbled into the shed with blood running down his arm.

"They won’t go forward."

Gorvak looked past him.

A shell exploded near the alliance wall. One machine gun paused, but another continued firing across the same stretch of ground.

The opening never lasted long enough for the demons to cross it.

"Keep the next groups in the quarry," he ordered.

"The command was to advance."

Gorvak caught the overseer by the shoulder and pulled him toward the corner.

A dozen demons were trying to leave a cover near the burning Warhounds. Rifle shots brought down the first few while a machine-gun burst struck those behind them.

The overseer pulled himself back into cover.

"Keep them in the quarry," Gorvak repeated.

At the Hellmaw battery, Sareth shifted his view away from the concealed defenses.

The open ground remained visible.

Two Warhounds burned near the old wrecks. The surviving machines continued firing from the approaches, but the infantry had stopped following them.

Kharos watched demons fall while attempting to retreat.

"The guns are still working."

Sareth nodded without lifting his hands from the tablet.

He could see the result of their fire. He could no longer give Drazek a clear view of the crews producing it.

The captain returned from the battery.

"We are still firing on their last positions."

"Any confirmed hits on the shelters?"

"Not since we lost the view."

Kharos looked toward Sareth.

For a moment, the image sharpened around the tollhouse steps. Then the pale distortion returned.

"He is still holding it," the mage said through clenched teeth.

Rhaz waited beside the table.

"The Iron Maw officers are asking whether they should move up."

"No."

Kharos watched another group of lesser demons abandon the open ground. An overseer tried to stop them, then ducked as rifle fire struck the wall beside him.

"Hold both formations. Recall the first wave. The remaining Warhounds are to come back with it."

Rhaz hurried to dispatch the order.

By the time the recall horns sounded, much of the fodder was already pulling back. The Warhounds withdrew slowly, firing toward the tollhouse while demons crowded behind their armored hulls.

No alliance warriors came out to pursue them.

The first wave had failed to reach the wall.

Kharos turned toward Drazek and Sareth.

"Before another wave goes forward, I want that interference broken and those guns silenced."

Behind them, a Hellmaw fired again.

Back at his command post, Senn listened to the lookout’s report before crouching beside Orven.

"They’re pulling back. Two Warhounds burning."

The mage remained braced against his staff. Sweat ran down his face, and his fingers had begun to cramp.

"Can you release it?" Senn asked.

Orven felt another push against his interference. The enemy observer was still trying to recover his view.

A shell exploded beyond the front wall.

"Apparently their mage has not received the withdrawal order."

Senn turned toward the elf holding the entrance ward. Her arms were trembling.

"We need relief," she said. "Both of us."

Senn sent a runner.

Along the trench, the gun crews began checking their weapons and calling for fresh ammunition. Borr’s machine gun still stood behind the old wall.

Orven tightened his grip as the enemy spell pressed against his again and held it there while the next shells came over.