A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Say, \'yes, Captain\'," Lombard said, correcting him.

"…Yes, Captain," Beam begrudgingly said. Lombard had to stifle a laugh seeing that look on his face. He truly was a boy, after all. If only he would be reminded of that fact more often.

But as he turned to leave, leaving Beam to his duties, Lombard\'s budding smile quickly disappeared, and he wore a dark look of his own. Just as Beam had, he found himself clenching his fist and grinding his teeth. Three men had already died on his watch in a single night – and the fourth he had had to kill himself.

Throughout the many years of battles that he had endured, losing a man never grew easier. It was even worse when it seemed as avoidable as it had been now. He knew as a Captain, he had to keep his public doubts to a minimum – but though he had said one thing to Beam, he found himself heavily regretting his decision to let the prostitutes return to camp the night before.

Though he had expected something would happen, it might not have been something quite so chaotic.

With the Captain gone behind him, Beam tried to right his mind for the upcoming day of battles. He picked his way through the defences – vicious stakes that had been driven into the ground – and hopped over the shallow trenches.

"Shift change," he called. The soldiers glanced behind them.. Even though they were in the midst of battle, there was an obvious look of relief on their faces.

Two squadrons – ones that had been posted to support Beam as he worked – were already on standby. They nodded in his direction, bows in hand.

"I thought we might not be seeing you today, Mountain Slayer," one sergeant said, approaching him. "It is unlike you to be late. Though, I suppose it\'s understandable, with the state of the camp. I had a hard enough time gathering the rest of the men."

Beam nodded in vague agreement.

"Well, let\'s get started, shall we?" The sergeant said. "Men! Take your positions! The boy is heading out!"

Two squadrons of soldiers lined up at opposite ends of their newly formed – or half-formed – defences, one squadron of 5 bowmen on the leftmost part, and one squadron of 5 on the right.

Once they were in position, Beam grasped his sword and set forth to meet the men that were already in battle.

The opponents for that morning looked to be three Gorebeasts and two Konbreakers – a challenging attack to deal with, for sure, and the soldiers were already showing signs of buckling, even though there were eight whole squadrons of them.

It was the Konbreakers that caused the most trouble. Even with two squadrons per beast, they were having a hard time pinning the creatures down – especially because the monsters seemed to be working together, compensating for each other\'s weaknesses, and protecting each other\'s backs.

It was there that Beam targeted first. He could see where to strike even from a distance away. It was a precarious balance that the soldiers and Konbreaker had formed, and with Beam in the mix, it would be over quickly.

One moment he had only just made it to the opposite side of the trench, and the next, he was shoulder to shoulder with the squadrons fighting a short distance away. He ducked through a web of spears, having to take just as much care to avoid allied attacks as he would enemy attacks, for the majority of the men had not realized he was so close.

But that too worked to his advantage. The fact that the soldiers did not react to his approach meant that the Konbreakers weren\'t given any clues either. As the soldiers distracted them, Beam drove in towards an exposed back.

Red eyes flickered towards him, as Beam\'s blade caught the winter sun. But even as it turned in alarm, its beak clacking in dismay, Beam found the soft spot just under its ribcage, and his blade tore down, taking several organs with it.

Just that single attack – that single motion – was enough to cause the tower of cards to come crashing down. Like a tidal wave, four squadrons of soldiers fell upon the remaining Konbreaker, as it turned towards Beam, distracted by the death of its comrade.

Several spears pierced it through the back, and hot dark blood fell down to taint the muddy snow.

Cheers erupted from the men. They\'d been locked in this particular battle for nearly twenty minutes, and with them already tired from the rest of their three-hour shifts, most of them had merely been eyeing the skyline, waiting for dawn to break, when they knew reinforcements would inevitably arrive.

But even as the men celebrated their victory, Beam was already moving, set to clear the rest of the battlefield.

The other half of the squadrons were still locked in battle with three Gorebeasts. Their strategy had been simple: three squadrons would hold the beasts in place, while the fourth acted as a mobile unit, that could attack the distracted beasts from the back, and support the other squadrons as and when was necessary.

They were already succeeding with such a strategy. Beam could see that one of the Gorebeasts had a fatal injury, with its organs clearly visible through a gash in its side. But it had not fallen quite yet, and even as it neared death, it seemed to grow more violent as a result.

When Beam\'s sword found its tough skull and ended its life for good, there was much relief as a result. The men did not pause to cheer yet – they instead moved to help the other squadrons, and ensure the death of the remaining Gorebeasts.

But before they could get much closer, Beam had already entered the fray. With a swing of his sword, another distracted Gorebeast fell. It was almost a crime the ease with which he dispatched such frightening monsters. His blade was even stronger that day, lent power by his anger, as he sought an outlet for the uncertainty that still assailed him.