Our honor is lost. Bertruda thought, defleg an ining shot with her spear.

  Arouhe defenders formed a circle, guarding the civilians inside. Shields vibrated, withstanding the never-ending onsught of exploding grenades and fired ons. It seemed like ay since Bertruda aroops had arrived at Quatindor to expedite the evacuation of the Order’s assets and personnel. What they found there exceeded their worst fears.

  Quatindor was burning.

  The Gilded Horde’s advance was like a r sandstorm, its soldiers a living multicolored wall that swept away any defense. With unications disrupted, warnings from the Provincial Army were of little use. Dozens of heavily armored vehicles had been captured by the invaders in the hangars; hundreds more exploded into pieces as the meics activated self-destruct systems, denying the Horde any gains. Not g in dedication, but hopelessly outmatched in firepower, the state’s soldiers were cut down ireets or pummeled by artillery fire, uo hold the liil the Ice Fangs arrived.

  Vilges and hamlets oskirts of the town were already subjugated, uo so much as phohe capital. Precision artillery had rained doowerful barrage of shells oy, leveling army bases and causing crippled men to die uons of rubble. Siege ons had spoke, eliminating bunkers taining anti-infantry missiles before they could fire, then pung holes in the walls for the Horde to pour in unopposed.

  There could be only one answer for the cause of such chaos. Betrayal. Bertruda was not as effective a leader as Camelia, First, or Leonidas. But she was the first to voice her fears over the s, and the sword saints had agreed with her assessment. The Gilded Horde had moved too fast and struck too well to attribute this success to mere ce. First had given his order. Preserve the future at all costs.

  Quatindor’s Knight Academy, a pce for their children to study the arts of politid war i from the lower csses, came under fire. Praise be the Spirits, its walls had ehat hellish hail where a random ricocheting shell colpsed nearby apartments, but soon after units of the Provincial Army were overwhelmed, the infantry closed in, believing this pce to be a military instaltion. Instructors, hired meraries, and teachers had fought bravely, building a barricade of corpses rge enough to hide the entrae, but the advance of the elites had pushed them back.

  It was then that Bertruda, Leonidas, and Macarius arrived, bringing righteous fury of vengeance upon the misbegotten curs. They divided their forces and frohe invaders in several districts, while the sages prepared the grand trap envisioned by Leonidas. Though Bertruda had inally inteo save just her own kind, she and her knights had ended up taking everyone along with them, retreating in an orderly fashion to the north. Whether Normie, Mutant, Orais, or even a disgusting, unworthy of life, Malformed, all were taken. The survivors of the Provincial Army filled their ranks, adding their shots to even the insurmountable odds.

  Defenders moved down the main street, wielding their round shields with both paws. These men and women were among the rgest of the Ice Fangs, several of them approag Bertruda’s ow. Interaining had cracked and refed their boheir muscles were ropes of steel that matched the ess of their nerves. A downpour of rockets, grenades, gunfire, and even the occasional shell rained down upon them. Liogether, the force fields of their shields held up, crag slightly as an occasional shot passed through the defenses, damaging the armor.

  Reloaded by servants and assisting soldiers, rotary turrets mounted on the defenders’ shoulders whirled, singing their fatal song. Guided by data from the shared visual feed, their shots vaporized three raiders down to their ankles and forced the rest to duto the cover of their heavy mobile armor.

  Foot soldiers lurked in the buildings, finding the fused civilians and guiding them to safety. In the narrow alleys, Mountaintop Knights waited, ready t into a at the first sign of an overfident foe. Not nearly as fabled as their rades of more prestigious houses, they stabbed the hordemen into the joints of their armor, pinning them to the ground and brutally stomping on the helmets, no clemend asking for he knights fired their handguns sparingly, serving ammunition.

  Huraversed across the rooftops; their sniper rifles soundlessly firing bullets traveling at a thousaers per sed. Whatever they hit, they peed, ending lives or g limbs. Watg through the lenses of their rades, the hunters gracefully adjusted their hunting grounds, dodging terattacks, dug from explosions, and peering out just in time to nd a single shot through a hordeman’s visor.

  Her Mountain Guard—ae group of eighteen bodyguards who haheir enormous tower shields with the same ease as if they were mere buckets of water—supported Bertruda at the front. Their double-edged axes rose and fell in an arc of deadly force, severing away the arms and legs of the assaints. Automatinons installed in their right wrists spat out bursts of bullets, shredding the enemy ranks.

  And still on and on they came, a sea of golden and steel ehey advanot as maddened raiders but as cautious fighters, with heavy assault teams firing rocket uo set rooftops abze and drive away the lightly protected hunters. rushed in their version urs, ordinary humans in exoskeleton armor, best fit to blunt the bdes of Ice Fangs on a better day. But their numbers were many, and the knights had to guard their allies, limiting their ability to maneuver gracefully across the battlefield. Bullets rattled against the battleptes, denting and crag them, softening the Ice Fangs.

  Troop carriers apahis rabble, driving in to permit the regurs to retreat. Engineers swiftly repced damaged prote on the regurs’ exosuits, and field medijected the survivors with adrenaline, motivating them to tihe assault, backed by the transports’ heavy ons. Behind the regurs advahe killing force, the New Breeds of the Horde, each wielding a sharp sword and firing from an oversized rifle.

  The two sides met in battle more than once, and so far, the Ice Fangs have beaten back every attempt to disrupt their ranks. Their foes weren’t stupid and aimed to reach the civilians, judging rightly that the Mountaintops’ defenses would be crippled if they were threatened. So far, every attempt had been repelled, and several troop carriers were reduced to sm piles of smoke.

  Bertruda anguished, seeing her knights dying, their bodies trampled. Even her Mountain Guard, the pride and joy of the Mountaintops Household, struggled, numerous cracks c their no longer shining armor, their cloaks reduced to tatters. It wasn’t how the Ice Fangs fought. The Ice Fangs were bdes, capable of breag the fortified position to swiftly reach the neck. They poured in like a flood areated like a low tide uhe supp fire of their artillery. Positional warfare had ed most of the advantages given to them by the unique blend of their biology, teology given to them by the state, and trainiowed upon them by the Twins and the Blessed Mother.

  Sworn o cede even a timeter of their homend, to never abandon an ally, they were fleeing, dishonored.

  Knight Captain Fabiahis day, his body torn to shreds, his unit elimio the st man. His squire did her best to retrieve her master’s body, only to have a merciless metal greave break her gentle neck. Escaria, Scothia, and Mourntul, the venerable members of the Mountain Guard who had withe founding of House Mountaintop, had lost their lives to give several families a ce to reach the defenders. Even ih, the cruelty did not end. Bertruda’s eyes glowed with rage as the barbarians began to strip the noble knights of their armor, hag at their limbs and ughing in guttural voices.

  Enough.

  Bertruda abandoned her usual restrained and posed self, embrag the ragi that had met Warlord Jahat rage had surprised her then—never before had the young sword saint been so hard pressed. That rage had surprised her then. Today, she willingly called upon that fwed part of herself and used her spear as a pole, leaping over her guard and nding on several attackers. The weight of her armor alone broke them, but she wasn’t do. A stab from her spear left a hole in a New Breed’s head, murdering the hordeman. Before his body uood its death, streams of energy were spat from under her vambraces, setting five hordemen alight.

  Taking advantage of the fusion, she used the suddenly freed space to spin her spear, cleaving through bodies. The sword saint advanced in a crimson mist as the defenders opened fire, annihiting the surrounding enemies.

  Too slow. Droplets of blood that looked like rose petals, pieces of flesh, and even bullets slowed to a crawl. She danced forward, evading bullets, swinging and stabbing with Elegance, reaping lives. A flick of her wrist took away a raider’s hands. A simple kick left another headless. Psma dischargers spat heat again, exploding the geors of the fallen Mountain Guard and sending them on their st journey in dignified pilrs of fme that engulfed the nearby hordemen.

  Bertruda’s eyes caught a fast-moving target, and she stepped aside to catch a hoverbike on her spear. The sword saint’s lips parted in a cold smile as she heard the rider’s gasp. Because of her sheer speed, Elegance ran full length through the crude metal toy, impaling the woman. The bike exploded, sendiruda back to the ranks of her troops.

  Our honor is lost. She nded on the shoulders of her guards, only to have sweet Tn, a knight who had served her predecessor, die. An energy beam hrough a gap between tCs, melting its way through the man’s chest. Loyal to the st, Tn somehow kept his body upright, refusing to let his liege fall. Only wheruda’s feet touched the ground did Tn topple. Another pilr of House Mountaintop was lost.

  Death awaited everyone, and though he died with honor, Bertruda caught him, grieving and blinking away tears. Tn taught her how to wield Elegance. His strid wise drills had guided the young knight-captain to fit into the boots of a sword saint when her former liege had perished in war. Gentle and stern, the man had never refused aid or any of her requests, and now he was dead. Torn from her life. By them.

  So many. She had bored so hard, and under her leadership, the household had prospered. No longer were they the ones who had to prostrate themselves for profitable marriages with the First Houses, but the Wintersongs had sought her cousin out for a rich pact to supply the development of sonic onry. Bertruda had po put Tn in charge of the project, both to honor his tury of servid to enrich the House’s gene pool. That dream was gone. Her troops, the future of the Order, were dying!

  “I’ll carry him, ss!” An Orais easily hoisted the three tons of steel over his shoulders. “Don’t you worry, I won’t let the bastards desecrate him,” he said with a groan.

  Once agairuda was humbled. In her arrogance, she viewed outsiders as lesser beings, not as sophisticated or strong. Allies, yes, but in general they were sidered inferior. And look at them now! The Province Army troops formed a circle around them, firing their rifles to keep the enemy pinned down, while two Orais readied their rocket unchers and lobbed rocket after rocket into a cra the APC, exploding its engine along with the driver. Their rades threw indiary grenades over them, setting much of the road abze. Everyone was risking their lives for the cause.

  Nobility exists in everyone. She reminded herself of the Protector Oath, spinning bato the battle. Prejudice was as dangerous as isotion. It clouded a fighter’s focus and distracted him from making the right decisions.

  “You wish to cim a sword saint’s life? Why throw your lives away so uselessly, you stinking pigs? You will not be able to afford the price of such a deed!” Bertruda ughed, the dynamics of her helmet amplifying her boast tenfold. “Run or perish! That’s the choice left for vultures!”

  A wave e invigorated Bertruda, and her helmet respoo the and, slipping from her jaws. She didn’t care if her enemies uood her; she turned grief intth, fueling the hatred that burned in her chest. Elegance’s swings cked grace, but even those struck by her shaft were no longer able to stand. Bertruda weled with open arms a group of brave fools who charged at her, angered by the mockery ione. In unison, they struck, one aiming for her knee joint, another swinging at her get, the third ung an overhead ssh aimed at her shoulder, and several more firing.

  The sword saint exploded outward, ripping a hordeman’s throat with her cws. Her jaws snapped, a fang shattered, but the bite still went through the helmet of the assaint who was aiming for her neck. She caught his arms in a grip between her armpit and her arm and shem, biting away at his face, ign the rules aions of not exposing her open mouth to the air. A k of flesh slid dowhroat and she swallowed, not even horrified at the btant disregard of First’s teags.

  Was that how Janine perceived a battlefield? Was everything a on to her, a tool to be used to preserve life? The corpse was thrown into ining bullets, and then Elegance skewered the woman who had tried to cut Bertruda’s khe sword saint’s burst of movement was so fast that the hordewoman didn’t eveer her disappearance, and her bde had passed through empty air. A twist of Eleganded this miserable life.

  “Death to the dealers of death!” Bertruda roared a war cry of her cousins, a war cry of her divine aunt, surprised at how easily it came to her. She fired psma again and stepped through the fmes resulting from the exploded geors of the dead hordemen. Elegaapped the stone in time with her step, her cloak resisting the fire, aongue licked blood from the cuts made on her lips by the propelled steel shards. “I carry a tittle of a sword saint,” Bertruda growled, decapitating an overly brave hordeman with a single swing. “But for you morsels, I am the devil inate. Step forth and die!”

  The horde’s infantry recoiled, shocked at the calm ferocity, but then the ground shook in respoo her challenge.

  ****

  A note from the author: Sorry for the slow updates. This is my fault. The end of the year is approag and I'm overworked at my job.