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The grassy plains were painted a putrid red as soldiers rushed at each other with their blades. There were two sides in this conflict; The Anaqym mercenaries and the grey coat Guards of the A&S convoy. In the hands of the former were large swords, as wide as a lesser man and half their length. In the hands of the latter were black halberds and serrated axes, acting more like demented cleavers. Currently, the Guards had the numerical advantage; Their numbers being somewhere in the twenties. While the Anaqym had been whittled down to a mere eleven. The protectors of the convoy were cautious, however. For while the Anaqym may be poor casters, they made it up with their bodily might. Being stronger and tougher than nearly any other race. That didn’t mean much however as while these mercenaries were experienced, most of them having atleast eight years under their belt, their adversaries were simply better. The grey coats were faster and were equipped with state-of-the-art plate carriers, being able to endure boulder-breaking strikes and metal-searing Shefa. They were still cautious, however, for each and every one of them had heard tales of the Anaqym’s peculiar racial traits. Besides their large stature and small stubs on their forehead, these people from Chorizim were famed for the incredible resilience they possess. In particular, the Guards had once witnessed an Anaqym red in hair survive stepping on a land mine. Heavily injured, but breathing. In spite of that, the grey coats were empty of fear. Why would they? These men had overcome far greater adversaries, of the bipedal and quadrupedal type before. This was just a pebble in their way. Indeed, it was not from arrogance that I say such a thing. For in naught bu a moment, another mercenary was cut down. The giant of a man was stabbed through the heart with a stilleto before a surge of vibrations ruptured the surrounding organs. In an instant, he was on the grass unbreathing. Seeing this as their cue, the fallen Anaqym’s fellow mercenaries rushed towards the Guards, their swords thirsting for blood. It was a bloodthirst destined to be never quenched. Immediately, another two were killed. Glowing blue swords of Western make were buried within their skulls before they dissipated into nothing. A fearsome Shefa ability, courtesy of the designated Caster. Now, only eight were left. Why did these people not flee? Why did they run into the maws of inevitable death? I do not know, but it does not matter. One mercenary had managed to sneak up on a Guard who was busy with their comrade, deftly avoiding and parrying furious hews of the massive sword. They lifted their sword high up in the air, and swung with all their might. It was a strike aimed at the unprotected shoulder, if it connected then the grey coat guard would be rendered armless. Keyword; If. The grey edge stopped a few centimeters short of the cloth as the offending party fell to the ground. Upon closer inspection, the Anaqym’s body was headless. Roughly sliced from the neck. The perpetrator was another Guard, this one wielding a serrated axe. They did not stop with one mercenary, however. With axe in one hand and dagger in the other, they rushed towards another Anaqym at speeds exceeding the other grey coats. Their boots carried them to another merc busy with their fellow Guard. Great strength was used as they thrust their dagger toward the Anaqym’s back. As expected, the steel tip pierced and severed the spine, leaving the mercenary open for a slash towards their neck. The back-stabbed man fell to the ground unbreathing and headless. The remaining five mercs had grouped up several yards away from the spead out guards. It seemed that they were intent on ganging up on individual grey coats before moving on to the next. A sound strategy given the circumstances. And so, with tactics in mind and adrenaline flowing, the Anaqym ran towards a wounded Guard. The distance between them was crossed in eight seconds, leaving the distracted grey coat no time to react. Before they could notice, they had been surrounded by all sides. And thus, with thrusts and slashes a life had been snuffed out. Their body fell to the ground, naught but mere meat for the beasts. With joy at the success in their brains, the mercenary group rushed at another. This time, the grey coat was accompanied by one more. They had already braced for contact with drawn axes. The sight seemed to only invigorate the Anaqym. It wasn’t just empty bravado however as the five simply bulldozed past the two. Leaving them writhing on the ground, deep cuts on their torsos. The two guards weren’t just one-sidedly beaten though, as unbeknownst to the rush-drunk mercs, the grey coated fighters had landed several blows to the legs. That injury had come to affect them at the worst time possible; Just a meter before they came in range with another group of guards, this time three in number. The first Anaqym fell to the ground kneeling on one leg and before they could guard, their brain was pierced through the eye by a halberd’s spear tip. The second fell without grace, falling flat on their face which now belonged to a literally heartless person. The third and fourth were disemboweled and shanked respectively which left the fifth alone. They were younger than the rest if their smaller stature was an indicator. The guards did not care, however, as they gave chase when the Anaqym turned around and led into the plains. Albeit, there were some rather tall hills only a hundred yards away. Perhaps that’s how the mercenaries had snuck up on the convoy. I digress. The last mercenary ran as fast as they could, praying to whatever deity this one adhered to. It was for naught, like always. Before the Anaqym could even finish their pleas to their divinity, a .308 calibre bullet blew his brains out. And just like that, the battle was over.