Holding Off Reinforcements (Part 2)

His name was Santo. He belonged to the Blackfire Legion, and he was also a Blackfire Guard.

But the mission before him left him deeply displeased, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Because these orders came directly from the warlord. If there was anything embedded in his flesh and blood since his earliest days, it was this: no matter what happened—obey orders.

Flickering firelight illuminated the rolling mountains, casting a pallid glow.

Bright ribbons of flame, like tears of phosphorescent powder, left burning trails across the night sky.

The assault on Mount Mishil had been long and arduous, made even harder by the defenders' rock-solid will.

But the revenge-hungry Blackfire Legion was like piranhas following the scent of blood through water. They never gave up, never loosened their bite, and once battle began, they never stopped attacking.

He did not know how the war was progressing elsewhere. All he knew was that the Legion's strategic objectives seemed to have changed. Their focus no longer appeared to be capturing those heavily fortified defensive positions.

Santo was now northwest of the Mishil Line, in what had once been a human defensive stronghold.

A company had held out at a place called Uss Fortress until the last man, long enough for the remaining soldiers to escape and retreat into the intricate underground tunnels and mines.

But those people were not Santo's concern.

He sprang out of the darkness, picked up his gun from a nearby rock, secured the weapon at his waist, and surveyed the surrounding landscape.

The ridges extending from Mount Mishil wound through the heart of the valley like a curved spine. Every vertebra bore a crooked peak, every fissure contained rippling river valleys, and every cleft plunged deep into the rock, forming hidden valleys, dead ends, and