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...They were irrelevant now. What, with the prospect of going to war with the superior forces of the Samurai, and being flanked by the Wei held up in their stronghold, on top of the possibility of a resurgence of attacks from the mysterious grey ninjas, there was no point keeping them. Their only use now was as slaughter for meat. Though when they knew what was coming they begged and begged and begged for their lives, the Cultists were merciless in processing them into more piles of Daemass to pull demonic creatures through, besides those that were set aside after their doom for later in fridges.
...
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTIETH HOUR OF CARNAGE.
TWO POINT FIVE MILLION HAVE BEEN KILLED.
...
Now, the time was come after the dusk had been reached. Though the Chosen ordered the Damned to sally out at dusk, the truth is that he himself could no longer tell when was dusk and when was dark. The Inebriates had done a number on the city of Kloa for sure. Their rotgut clouding the skies and sights had blocked the sun out a while back the longer the Kloan crisis went on.
And he had no idea how to read a clock. It was not something he was taught in the upbringing he was told not to memorize.
From out between the collapsed junctions of Kloa, and along its barren highways, the Army of Darkness marched together, as many. The dust of the traps awaited them as they ventured out, masked in the clouds of green and yellow. The closer they strayed from the place fallen and lost to horror, the more warmth they felt from the Sun. They were getting closer.
And so was the enemy. The Samurai came much in the same way, in full force, with even Capital Ships in the sky above, ready to cleanse the streets of Kloa they'd overran. The hulking and burly forms of their mechanical beasts stalked the rear. The vanguard was row after row of Ashigaru, prepared for suicide. The Retainers would hold a steady line, but one that could be broken by the myriad Demons, Beastkin and spirits the Damned carried with them.
The skirmish started light, with the Marauders revving up motorcycles to drive headlong into the lines ahead heedlessly of anything else, crazed in their shouting muffled by roaring exhaust pipes. Most of them didn't even make it, cut down by the barrage of tanegashima fire that came first, but those that did exploded gloriously into the lines, forming fractures. It was like knocking down dominoes among a horde of drones, or squashing the ants at the forefront of a mound. Immediately, mortars popped off into the air, and riders on grim horseback flowed across the land with spectral howls. Red line tunneled below the dirt to emerge with teeth clawing and gnashing from the Undead Beasts. Silvery shades, Revenants, passed through bodies, and they fell.
The crisis of Kloa was coming to a climactic end.
Now, the newcomer would lash out, just as the Dark One predicted.
