Chapter 163: Occupation

The inn at the Culdao Peaks Town had long lost its previous jovial mood and cozy décor. Now, it had already been overtaken forcefully by the Ardent Cretins and the Violet Demons, both of whom had strongarmed the entire town into submission, appropriating their buildings for logistics and housing for their own soldiers. Both the gangs were working together in an alliance, sharing the town as a base of operations.

It’s been a month since the takeover, and the local residents have been living under occupation. Market stall owners kept their heads low as Cretins tossed them trinkets in exchange for food, wood and other supplies, while mothers reprimanded their children for staring at any Violet Demons. Even the town’s mayor, a mere figurehead at this point, was unwilling to go against the new authorities. What made it worse was the occupier’s numbers were far more than the local residents themselves: an entire brigade was controlling them.

Despite the heavy-handed treatment, the locals were able to survive, albeit with meager subsistence far below their prior living standards. The ones affected badly were the business owners, who had their assets and property wrung from their hands directly. However, even they were better off than the two man currently being crucified in the middle of town, nailed in various parts of their bodies to rotten pieces of wood, left out to dry under the heat.

A cargo worker flinched instinctively as a gut-wrenching cry of pain and torture erupted from the man, causing the worker to nearly fumble the crate. As soon as he placed the crate down, stacking them on top of others, a burly hand smacked him right in the back of the neck, causing him to stagger forward slightly.

He instinctively turned around to fight back, only to immediately cower in deference as a Violet Demon soldier grinned widely. “Better focus on your fucking work, if you don’t wanna end up like him. Unless you’re a filthy enforcer too?”

“No, sire. I will focus.” The worker bowed fervently.

The Violet Demon soldier leaned in menacingly. “Good, cuz if I find you fucking with our ammo while we’re out – you can say goodbye to Mary and your kids, bitch.”

Another defeaning thud resounded like a crack across the mountains as yet another mortar round was lobbed in the direction of the goblin den, blasting apart the Euria Trees that surrounded the mine. The Demons’ artillery crew continued to load the next round, eager to blast even more goblins hiding in the treelines.

Before the worker could respond, the soldier slapped him on the back again with force. “Now keep working!”

The worker grimaced as he continued his task, unloading boxes upon boxes from arctech wagons slowly but surely. The work was back-breaking, and he had no idea what was in the boxes, nor did he want to find out as well. As soon as the job was done, he was marshalled to another part of the town, forced to march alongside other workers past the whimpering men still nailed in the centre of the town.

The central market was no longer the main attraction, but instead a tall spire close to seven stories dominated the center point of the town, glistening with green arcia engravings along the surface that trailed towards arcia power generators, heavily guarded by permanent Violet Demon squads.

It was not the only spire around, with a few other smaller ones spread out across the town, obviously to defend against enemy attacks. The worker also knew that the spires were designed to suppress the local population as well, ensuring any attempt to revolt would be immediately neutered by the point defense engraving systems.

A soldier guarding the power generators spat on the worker’s foot as the worker was caught staring at the generators for too long. “Whatchu you looking at, huh?!”

The worker hastily looked away, keeping his eyes on his feet as they trudged along, heading to another restaurant which had been transformed into a temporary ration and supply packing office. As much as he wanted to spike the food with as much dirt and grime as he could, it was hard to do so with a solider clearly observing them, waiting for the slightest mistake so they could nail them up as well.

Life was grim now, but the worker kept pushing on, telling himself it was for his wife Mary and his three kids. Play it cool, there will be an opportunity later.

He knew that a war was happening now, so all he could hope for was the fatigue to slowly set in before the locals could muster up enough strength to rebel. The biggest problem was those arcia power generators that kept the spires running – they needed to take that out first before doing anything else.

Suddenly, just before his lunch break, the incessant inaudible chatter on the arctech radios suddenly became a lot more hectic for some unknown reason. Even as the worker walked past the soldiers on his way to their mess hall, none of them spared him a glance at all, obviously worried about something. An air of tension had suddenly gripped the Violet Demons.

“What’s up with them?” The worker whispered secretly as he held his bowl up, soup scooped into it by another local. “You hear anything on your cleaning rounds?”

“I’m not too clear, but while I was walking past the commander’s quarters, they seemed to be flustered about a missing scout squad.”

“Scout squad?”

“Yes, they are sending out more men to defend the town now.”

Aiden marched out with Hank being dragged along the floor, earning the stares and glares of everyone around, locals and soldiers alike. “FOR CONSPIRING AGAINST THE VIOLET DEMONS, YOUR PUNISHMENT IS CRUCIFIXATION TILL DEATH.” Aiden bellowed while Hank was placed onto a wooden plank.

Hank thrashed back, fighting against the soldiers but they held him down firmly, aiming a rusted nail at his wrist before hammering it in with impunity. The sharp cold metal pain overwhelmed his nerves, causing him to yell out and fight back harder, only to earn a punch to the face.

It was even worse when his already broken ankle was pierced again, leaving nearly out of breath as he was hoisted up high, the weight of his own body pushing against the nails while he struggled to breath. Every movement on his body caused the nails to scrap against his inner flesh, the pain wracking his body as he heaved hard.

His eyes watering from the pain, he could barely see his family being dragged out of their house, tied up and forced to kneel on the floor. “Anytime, Hank. Just say the word, and all of this can go away. The door is always open to you.”

He could already hear the distinct crying sounds of his wife and eldest son, while his two younger children were still unaware of what was happening. His youngest did not even recognize him any longer, the blood and grime and long hours at work. His heart clenched with pain as sweat dripped down this forehead, trickling down his face.

On his left, Fred was on the verge of dying, yet Hank could tell he was holding steadfast, his determination keeping him alive. Fred’s wounds had already scabbed over, forming around the nail. Ironic. The smuggler and enforcer tortured together.

“Yual, save me!” The other crucified man cried out for the umpteenth time, earning the laughter of the soldiers looking on.

“The Emperor does not care about Raktor, foolish priest!” Aiden taunted. “He has abandoned you, all of you!”

“Then kill me! So I may return to the bosom of Yual himself!”

Before Aiden could continue to make an example of the three men, a soldier ran up to him, whispering quickly into his ear.

“What?! Mobilize the men, quickly! Anti-air defences now!”

As the soldiers kicked into a flurry, a low humming sound could suddenly be heard in the distance. Aiden immediately retreated to his quarters, while soldiers dragged out turrets aimed at the sky, mounting them on the roof of buildings.

Hank was utterly confused as to what was going on, until he could see a black dot appear in the horizon, coming from the mountains. A wyrm? Impossible, I haven’t seen one here in ages.

The black dot grew bigger and bigger, flying low over the treeline. A torrent of pellets and mortar rounds fired from the turrets blasting towards the black dot. Instead of turning the black dot into mash, the black dot shrugged off all the incoming attacks, metal chunks flying out and spiraling into the forest.

In response, a sudden hailstorm of pellets erupted from the black dot, damaging the turrets and injuring the soldiers manning them. The spires glowed fiercely as the green arcia bolts lanced across the sky, attempting to counteract the pellets but instead being overwhelmed.

Hank could see a spire overheating as it fired more than two hundred arcia bolts before petering out. “NOW, MY BROTHERS! NOW IS THE TIME!” He roared with all his might, his voice spreading out as far and wide as he could.

The workers noticed the same thing, quickly kicking into action and assaulting the nearest soldier next to them, hampering their reaction to the now visible armoured hovercraft closing in on them.

As the armoured hovercraft sailed over the town, the frontal armour already slagged by the anti-air weaponry, two portholes opened on the side, revealing two machine guns. The hovercraft tilted to the ground, immediately unleashing a withering storm of fire that grounded the Violet Demon soldiers to sickening twisted corpses riddled with holes. Hank momentarily forgot about his pain, having never seen such devastation before with his own eyes as dozens fell in the street.

From the back of the hovercraft, an armoured exosuit leapt out onto one of the rooftops, landing right between three Violet Demon soldiers, the surface of the armour glistening with blue and green engravings interlocked between the seams, tracing all long the metallic black surface before culminating in a spine of arcia energy.

Before the soldiers could even react, the head of a warhammer pummelled all of them, cracking their skulls with impunity.

Hank had long heard rumours of a monster that destroyed the forest bandit camp, alleviating one of the town’s many woes. The scene he witnessed in front of him was exhilarating as the exosuit charged through the town, slamming his warhammer into the spires and causing them to tumble spectacularly, a cloud of white marble dust billowing into the air.

Only the glow of the engravings on the armour could be seen as the exosuit marched through the smoke, warhammer in hand and rifle slung at the back. “Sasha, Qatu, commence assault. Time for some payback.”