The ordinary Skaven and the wizard's bodyguards, called Stormvermin, as well as the Rat Ogre, launched their attack, obeying the Grey Seer's command. Even through my magical rage, I felt a slight panic. There were more of them, and it wasn't just cannon fodder anymore. Not only that.
Stormvermin, or Stormrats, are the elite of the Skaven infantry. Large, well-equipped, with black fur and eyes burning with malice. There were only seven of them here, but even so, they posed a serious threat. Five of them wielded sinister-looking halberds, or rather, glaives. The other two preferred a combination of curved blades with triangular shields spiked along the rim. Stormrats wore heavy armor by Skaven standards. The armor was covered in red paint.
— Kill-kill! — the wizard shrieked menacingly.
He was echoed by dozens of voices from the advancing rat wave. A shot rang out. Erik tried to shoot the Seer, but at that distance and amidst the swarms of scurrying Skaven, the Halfling missed his mark. The bullet hit one of the wizard's rank-and-file followers.
The Rat Ogre lunged at Magg Gut-Gouger. Several ordinary rats were coming my way. The Stormvermin were probably waiting for the moment to attack, to easily finish us off when we got bogged down in the fight. However, what happened next was unexpected.
When the horrific Rat Ogre rushed at Magg Gut-Gouger, thrusting its bladed stump forward, the brute let the attack pass and caught the enemy's arm in his armpit. He squeezed it against his mighty bicep and equally mighty torso. With his other hand, Magg let go of his bludgeon and, leaning slightly, grabbed the Rat Ogre by its back leg. All of this was done with incredible speed.
In literally a second, the Ogre, enhanced by Dwarf ale, lifted the Rat Ogre above him and hurled the writhing monster right into the thick of its smaller comrades. It was spectacular!
A moment ago, the Skaven believed in their unconditional victory, but now they hesitated again. The Rat Ogre fell onto four Stormvermin and three ordinary infantry rats. The monster flailed its limbs, gnashed its teeth, and swung its blade, not understanding what was happening. The Skaven were trying to get out from under the monster's carcass. Many were wounded.
Four simple Skaven froze in stupefaction in front of me. Two of them turned their heads toward the Rat Ogre, trying to figure out what was going on. I rushed into the attack. Lowering myself and covering with my shield, I rammed the rat with the short spear. Squealing, he recoiled, immediately taking a slashing blow to the head from my sword. The blade tore his black mask, leaving a wide, bleeding gash. The rat dropped his spear as if it were a red-hot poker.
Of the other three, only one tried to attack. He lunged at me, chaotically swinging a short blade, seemingly having forgotten entirely about his round shield.
I struck him twice on the same plane. Right and left, twisting my wrist. The first blow lashed the rat across the neck, the second across his armed hand. The Skaven flinched away from me, squealing and flailing his paws. How pleasant it was to fight them. My current inability to kill with a single blow was compensated by the low morale of the Ratmen. Just scratch them a little, and each one acts out suffering so dramatically that they deserve an Oscar.
All four fled. Magg had already raised his bludgeon, swinging it left and right. I wanted to press the advantage, but one of the Stormvermin was heading my way. This was a real threat.
The black-furred Ratman impaled one of the fleeing Skaven on his curved blade. Killed him outright. Pulling the sword out of the convulsing body, the Stormvermin swung it, sending a spray of blood droplets my way. I didn't know if it was a challenge or an insult. Then the black rat took a stance, raising his sword and triangular shield high. In that position, he advanced toward me, baring his long, yellow incisors.
"Be cautious, warmblood," — the Slann returned to his favorite activity—stating the obvious. — "This parasite is more dangerous than all the previous ones. Its spirit and body are tougher."
The parasite, meanwhile, was advancing faster and faster. I tried to strike him with two blows, but the Skaven easily parried them with the edge of his shield. Moreover, he was trying to knock my blade away or catch it between two closely set spikes on the rim. Damn. This bastard knows how to fight.
His blade was shorter, so he was trying to get closer. That could not be allowed. I had to retreat, trying to strike him at a distance.
A thrust? No! The attempt almost ended with me losing my weapon. The rat was strong and fast. His incisors were barely moving up and down. His whiskers constantly twitched. Before me was a solid ball of muscle and nerves.
Twice the rat lunged forward, trying to close the distance. My longer legs and the magical rage, which sped up my reaction, saved me. The third time, it seemed I would also evade, but suddenly a sharp pain burned the back of my left knee. Was I hit from behind? Was there another rat there?
I checked with the corner of my eye—no one. Then how…
The tail!
I only now noticed that the Skaven's tail ended in a sort of bladed attachment. The bastard knew how to use all the advantages of his body.
Moving my left leg became noticeably harder. I could heal the wound by absorbing the rage, but then I would lose one of my few advantages.
I needed to absorb the rage later, which meant… I could take more wounds now. The main thing was to trade blows advantageously with the enemy. I stopped, leaning on my healthy leg, raising my sword and shield.
The Skaven probably thought I was done for. He let out a triumphant chirp and rushed in for the kill. I deliberately didn't use my sword for the first few moments, trying to block his blows with my shield alone. The Skaven struck again and again. At the same time, I felt him trying to completely slash my legs with the blade on his tail. However, patience paid off. The moment for a counterattack was chosen. Leaning my shield into the rat that had gotten too close, I slammed him on the nose with the pommel of my sword. It was problematic to properly slash with my blade at that range. Plus, the enemy was well-armored. So I chose to simply hit him with the pommel.
The enemy didn't manage to react to this short and sharp movement. Slightly stunning the Skaven, I hit him again, this time with the edge of the shield. I couldn't let him breathe.
Pommel, shield, and pommel again. The Skaven's nose was broken. I guessed that this was a very sensitive spot for the Ratmen. Even a seasoned fighter like my enemy was first distracted by the pain, but then started striking back at me.
His blade nicked my shoulder, barely missing my neck. Then there was an attempt to drive his curved sword under my ribs, but I crouched slightly. As a result, the tip of the blade, piercing my padded jacket, bit into my bones. My ribcage protected my heart. In return, raising my sword above my head, I thrust down into the rat around his left eye. The Stormrat recoiled. As he retreated, I dropped the edge of my shield, trying to sever the tail dangling near my feet.
We both froze opposite each other, covered in blood.
— You will die-perish, man-thing! — the Skaven chirped, breathing heavily.
He was in no hurry to launch a new attack, understanding that my wounds were heavier. He decided to simply wait for the bleeding to finish me off. I smiled. I had an ace up my sleeve in this game of attrition. The exchange of blows had given me more rage. The chalice was almost full.
I raised my sword, carefully making a cut on my cheek.
— You say I'll die-perish? — I spoke.
The spell allowed me to communicate in the Ratmen's language. This fact stunned the Stormvermin. And then I mentally commanded:
"Absorb."
The euphoria immediately subsided, the sword suddenly felt many times heavier, but the wounds stopped hurting. They closed up. Wiping a drop of blood from my face, I showed the rat that the cut was gone. Superstitious terror gripped the Skaven.
Before him was a completely wrong man-thing. It knew his language and regenerated like a Troll.
— No-no, must retreat. Witchcraft! — the Skaven chattered, justifying his behavior. — Must tell-report to the Seer!
And with those words, the Ratman fled. Excellent. Without the rage, fighting such a warrior would have been extremely difficult. Speaking of rage, I urgently needed to refill the bloody chalice!
My eyes fell upon several wounded rats that Magg had severely broken with his bludgeon. I rushed to finish off the barely-alive Skaven with thrusts and slashes, witnessing the most extreme forms of disgusting cowardice.
One, with a broken spine, tried to crawl away, leaving a wide trail of urine and liquid feces behind him. Another Ratman was gnawing on his more seriously wounded comrade. He was eating him alive, starting with the front paw, which he had already gnawed down to the bone. I stopped this outrage, wielding my sword.
Every new strike added to my rage. Five wounded Skaven and two more almost-whole fighters fell by my hand. Filling the chalice to two out of four divisions, I went to help Magg.
A semicircle of Skaven corpses had already accumulated around the Ogre. The brute was entirely covered in others' and his own blood. Magg's movements had become a little slower, but he was still holding on.
The Rat Ogre had fared much worse. Its bladed arm was broken. It probably tried to block Magg's bludgeon with it. The rat-monster had already lost all desire to fight. The four Stormvermin still on their feet tried to force the monster back into battle with pokes from their glaives.
The ordinary Skaven cannon fodder huddled against the walls and tried to hide behind the Stormvermin. Finally, the rat warriors managed to send the monster into a new attack and followed it themselves. Other Skaven began to rally.
— Well, come here, meat on legs! — the Ogre roared, raising his bludgeon high and spinning it with both hands.
— Kill-stab-stab! — one of the Stormvermin urged the others on. — There are more of us! There are many of us! I'll personally chew the most cowardly!
This attack could have been dangerous, but Erik had already reloaded. Now he decided to shoot for sure. From three paces, he fired a bullet into the rat who was shouting commands. The Halfling managed to drive the projectile right into the wretch's open maw. The rat choked on his own scream. Simultaneously, Magg brought his bludgeon down on the Rat Ogre, and I covered the brute from the Stormvermin's glaives. I didn't attack them, but merely wielded my shield, deflecting the enemy's thrusts.
Magg continued to pummel the monster, turning its ugly head into a bloody mess. Realizing they were losing their strongest unit, the rats began to retreat again. Then the squeaky, but self-assured voice of the Grey Seer rang out again.
— Pathetic-stupid servants! You cannot perform a simple task again. I will punish-chastise you, yes-yes. But first, I will kill the surface-things. Give me power, Horned Rat!
I see. Now he was going to summon the super-fucking rat Satan. Predictable.
The Seer's eyes and horns flared with an unholy green shimmer. He raised his metal staff, swinging it and making ritual gestures with his free hand.
Time.
I walked out to meet the wizard, spreading my arms.
— Die-burn! — the Seer shrieked.
My eyes didn't even have time to register the green Warp lightning striking me. And…
It was noticeably more pleasant than Orc sorcery. Perhaps Loom-Pia had strengthened my defense, or maybe the green shamanic spells were especially harmful to non-Orcs. The Skaven, however, struck with pure Warp energy. A nasty thing, but human wizards are even able to control it.
Just like the previous times I had tanked sorcery, I felt pain that made me clench my teeth. However, I had enough strength to take a step forward. Then came a heady euphoria, unlike the usual effect of rage. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
The Skaven struck again. A stream of green flame lashed out at me, but immediately recoiled and changed direction, consuming five terrified rats at once.
I was laughing. My body felt as light as a feather. With every new step, I felt like I was about to soar to the very ceiling of the cave, where the ancient Dwarf stars twinkled.
— Horned Raaaaaaat! — the Seer shrieked in frenzy, sending bolt after bolt into me.
The magic ricocheted, tearing his own allies into bloody shreds. The Skaven were scrambling in terror, engulfed in green flames. The corpse of the Rat Ogre twitched, beginning to mutate and come back to life, but a new bolt of lightning set it on fire, killing it again.
Madness…
And in the middle of all this madness, I walked. A greenish fog swirled before my eyes. My mouth filled with saliva, and my muscles surged with supernatural strength.
The Skaven mage stopped casting. He shrank back in fear, beginning to retreat. I slowly walked toward him, savoring the terror of this vile creature. The Seer tried to grab one of his minions and place him between us. However, every time he succeeded, I killed the creature with a single sword stroke.
— No-no, — the Seer mumbled to himself. — The Horned Rat will protect-save me.
I wanted to say something, but instead of words, wild laughter escaped my lips.
"Calm down, warmblood," — Loom-Pia spoke to me. — "The energy of the Immaterium has seeped through your defense. Remain strong of heart and mind, lest it warp you. Your resistance will cope. The main thing is not to do this too often, otherwise irreversible changes may begin."
Ah, I see. So, I grabbed some alien magic. It temporarily boosted me, but if I pull this trick too often, I could go insane or become a mutant. Now I needed to calm down, and to start, finish off the Seer.
He was now practically alone. The other Skaven had either fled, died, or were lying wounded. The Grey Seer would have been happy to bolt too, but I had cornered him.
— Do not come closer! — he shrieked, fending me off with his staff. — I am the mighty-great Grey Seer Gotri. Chosen of the Horned Rat! One twitch of my whiskers and you will be killed-torn apart!
In the last few phrases, the Skaven's voice filled with arrogant contempt. Foolish, but such behavior even earned him a shred of my respect. This Skaven seemed braver than his minions. I'll kill him quickly.
Taking a few more steps forward, I raised my sword. By that time, the unnatural Warp merriment had subsided a bit. The madness was gone, but the feeling of overwhelming power remained. I was sure that I could cleave the Ratman's head with one blow.
— Go away! Otherwise, you…
I didn't let the Skaven finish. A swing of the sword and… somehow, the Ratman dodged, collapsing to the ground. I jumped back, expecting a knife strike to the groin or leg. However, it seemed the Skaven was not going to attack anymore. He was lying on the cave floor, writhing and clutching his horned head with his paws. A puddle with a sharp, unpleasant odor spread beneath him. In it, I could see shimmering inclusions of tiny pieces of Warpstone.
I raised my sword again, and the Skaven stretched out his paws to me in obvious supplication.
— No-no, do not kill. Let us talk. Let us talk good-sensible.
All his former contempt vanished from the wizard's appearance. I watched with surprise as this recently mighty and malicious creature humiliated himself, kneeling in a puddle of his own urine. I didn't know whether it was more disgusting or funny. And the Ratman kept babbling:
— I, Grey Seer Gotri, am the greatest friend of man-things in all of Skavenblight! All my slave… that is, my domestic man-things have very cozy-warm burrows, and I feed them twice a day. Yes-yes! They will miss-grieve without me.
At this, I truly couldn't hold back and started laughing. The Skaven's attempt at negotiation was so absurd. However, then he said something relatively interesting.
— I am a representative of the Council of Thirteen, Yes-yes, — he proclaimed, showing a Warpstone medallion around his neck. — Important-valuable. Do not kill. Let us negotiate.
I had heard that song from dozens of Goblins going under the knife, but now it might be true. This was no ordinary Skaven before me. Grey Seers are not born to the Ratmen very often. Noticing my interest, Gotri continued:
— I get-find for you much wealth, food, the best burrow, good females.
— What a chatty meal, — Magg boomed from behind me. — Cut him, Jurg, and we'll eat.
— It's better not to eat him, — I noted. — This Skaven consumed too much Warpstone.
— Yes-yes, do not eat. Negotiate! — Gotri chimed in. — I give ransom. Much food. A whole mountain.
— But you shouldn't trust him either, — Erik remarked, leaning on his meat-hammer, which was covered in blood, matted fur, and brain fragments. — Cut him down, Jurgen. He'll only trick us and escape anyway. His riches are far away. We have no way to get them.
— Stop! — Gotri shrieked. — Nearby. Everything is nearby! There is a mine not far from here! Dig-mine Warpstone! Clan Skryre. They respect-love me very much! They have man-things and many valuables. They will give you Warp-tokens for me. Give females. Give food!
Hmm. Exchange a hostage for human prisoners and money? Sounds like an interesting idea. However, it was obvious that the Skaven would try to stab us in the back if given the chance. Could we arrange this in a way that minimizes the threat?
— Food? — Magg was interested. — Do they have gold and silver?
— Yes! — Gotri squealed. — Shiny good-valuable gold. All yours! Agreed?
Magg removed his helmet, scratching his bald head. And a rather interesting idea came to my mind. Perhaps we could actually trade the Grey Seer for valuables and even make our getaway. The main thing was to execute it smartly.
— I don't like this idea, friends, — Erik said with doubt. — The creature before us is no better than a Beastman.
— But what if we manage to save the prisoners? — I noted.
— And grab the gold! — Magg supported. — I want to buy more of that tasty brew!
Well. An Ogre drunkard—a woe to the party. However, Magg's bad habit might play into my hands now.
— We accept your offer, Gotri, — I said. — But if you trick us, you will die instantly. Master Erik, please reload your pistol again and keep it aimed.
— We're going for gold! — the Ogre rejoiced.
Yes.
And for new trouble.