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Wordlessly, the Chosen One bore the bident handed down. His moment of regarding its bronze form was but a distraction to the midget, who had overstepped himself for the last time.
'GH-UK!'
And then been pierced.
'...Grkk... w-why me...?'
"Be-Because, you are.... weak."
The Chosen did not believe they had the right to exist. It was his right to excise the followers he deemed unworthy, and the midget was one. He hadn't know why up to this point he tolerated such an existence. But it was fine. He was gone now, and all that remained was his fear. Yes, and fear was good, for what he had planned.
To incarnate fear, they needed flesh. The Necromancers would have to stall for a time on the wider project of assembling the armor now that the worms had bred and multiplied. A sum of it was needed for fears to gain skin, and so he put them to work on spawning these next horrors with the Daemasses. Flesh was everything, it was the resource of the Khanate. Flesh was malleable.
From this, the Unholy Things rose, and sauntered off.
...
TWENTY NINTH HOUR OF CARNAGE.
...
The people ran. Once so emboldened as to charge the lines, now they ran. The Unholy Things drove them off, wherever they were seen. The mere sight aroused such Terrors hiding inside men, they screamed and gave up. The tanks, a mighty sight indeed, quickly are abandoned by their drivers, as the Chemically Immortal were not trained to use the hulks of metal. They needed civilian drivers, and now they were deprived of them. The Garbage Heap is being overran now. Not even the Shen Ce can keep up with fighting through a crowd of their own fleeing civilians, not with the Warriors closing in.
'My Chosen.'
The head Necromancer of the team approached Richard. Unlike the foolish midget from before, now nothing but a blood sacrifice, this Necromancer held the Chosen in a higher, more venerating regards.
'The Warriors claim they have captured every tank fielded by the Kloans. Now, they are ours.'
The people of the city were all flocking back to their little fortress around the Wei headquarters in the city. Such a congestion of unordered rabble running, with their Shen Ce protectors right behind them, clogged in the back, made the situation stressful. The Wei had no choice but to turn some people away to go running elsewhere in the city, and take their chances. It is the problem a city of five million faces. But the numbers were falling steadily.
For Kloa must burn.
...
THIRTIETH HOUR OF CARNAGE.
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY THOUSAND PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED.
CASUALTIES ARE RISING.
...
