Chapter 412: Break Their Formation

Kael looked at the javelin in his hand, then toward the rider who had thrown it. The man seemed to expect him to send it straight back, and for a moment, Kael considered doing exactly that. He drew his arm back, judging the distance between them, before changing his mind.

"No."

He tossed the javelin upward and struck the middle of its shaft with his fist. Wood snapped with a sharp crack, sending both halves spinning into the dirt. The young gladiators watched the pieces fall before turning their attention back to him.

"Stay together. Don’t move."

They did not understand the words, so Kael pointed toward their formation, pressed both hands inward, then gestured firmly at the ground beneath their feet. The oldest caught on and began shouting instructions to the others. Once they had stopped trying to spread out, Kael looked toward the infantry and noticed that the soldiers had stopped advancing.

They remained roughly thirty meters away, shields raised and ranks tight. Nobody had broken formation to take advantage of the javelins, and their commander appeared content to hold his position. Kael watched them for several seconds before looking toward the circling chariots.

"They’re waiting. They want those things to break us first."

The young gladiator beside him followed the direction of his pointing hand. Beyond the raised shields, another chariot was coming around for a pass, its rider already reaching for a fresh javelin. The infantry had no reason to risk entering a chaotic fight while Kael’s group remained together.

They could let the chariots circle and force the young gladiators to dodge until someone panicked. Anyone who broke away would have to contend with the bladed wheels, while anyone who stayed would remain a target for the riders. Once the group scattered, the infantry could advance and finish whatever remained. It was a simple, efficient plan, and Kael hated efficient plans when someone else was using them.

Another javelin flew toward the group as a chariot thundered past. Kael punched it aside, shattering the shaft against his gauntlet and drawing a roar from the crowd. Several young gladiators flinched at the flying splinters, but they held their ground while he searched the arena for something useful.

The changing battlefield had left debris scattered everywhere. Broken walls lay beside collapsed pillars, and large blocks of stone rested where the ogre had thrown or smashed them during the survival round. Several meters ahead, Kael spotted a section of masonry wider than his shoulders and thick enough that several ordinary men would have struggled to move it.

"That’ll do."

He stepped out of the formation, immediately drawing alarmed shouts from the young gladiators. Kael raised one hand without looking back, repeating the gesture that had kept them in place. Beyond the slab, one of the chariots changed course as its driver noticed him separating from the others.

"Stay."

Kael continued toward the stone and crouched beside it, working both hands beneath its broken edges. For a moment, the slab refused to move. Then his legs tightened, his back straightened, and the masonry lifted from the dirt with a grinding scrape.

The cheers began giving way to confused shouting as he kept lifting. Dust spilled from the underside of the slab, running over his arms and shoulders before falling around his boots. By the time he held the entire piece above his head, the nearest sections of the arena had gone quiet.

Even the young gladiators seemed to have forgotten their fear. They stood watching him while the approaching rider stared at the stone overhead. The driver understood what was about to happen a little sooner and hauled on the reins, but Kael was already adjusting his grip.

He planted his feet, shouted, and hurled the slab toward the chariot. The vehicle had barely begun its turn when the masonry struck its front, tearing through the wood as though it had been assembled from dry sticks. One wheel ripped free and bounced across the arena while the bladed axle twisted beneath the impact.

The rider vanished behind splintered timber and flying bronze fittings. His driver was thrown forward, tumbling over the collapsing front of the chariot as both horses went down almost together. Their momentum carried them through the wreckage before they rolled across the dirt, dragging broken harnesses and pieces of the vehicle behind them.

The crowd screamed as debris scattered across the chariot’s path. Kael lowered his hands and watched the detached wheel bounce once more before falling onto its side. Very little of the vehicle remained in a shape anyone could have recognized.

"Okay."

That had worked somewhat better than expected. Unfortunately for the next driver, his chariot had been following the first closely enough that he now had an entire destroyed war machine blocking the route ahead. He pulled hard on the reins, forcing his horses into a sudden turn.

At that speed, there was no graceful way to manage it. The chariot swerved, one wheel lifted, and the entire vehicle tipped before the driver could correct it. His rider went over the side first, striking the dirt and rolling several times before the driver followed.

The horses continued running, dragging the overturned chariot behind them. Wood scraped across stone, the broken frame bounced, and one of its remaining sections caught against a chunk of masonry. The sudden stop pulled the harnesses taut and brought the horses stumbling to a halt.

For several seconds, the battlefield seemed uncertain what to do with itself. Two chariots had become wreckage, and the infantry’s attention shifted despite the shouted orders from its commander. Several soldiers turned their heads, one shield lowered, and the rank behind it tried adjusting to cover the gap.

That was the opening Kael had been waiting for. Their plan had depended on the chariots forcing his group apart, and losing them had briefly left the infantry watching the wrong part of the battlefield. He looked over his shoulder and found all twelve young gladiators staring at him.

Kael pointed toward the soldiers, then made a firm forward motion with his hand. The oldest followed the gesture and tightened his grip on his cutlass, finally looking away from the wrecked chariots. The others began watching him for instructions.

"Get ready."

The young man raised his weapon and shouted to the rest. Fear remained on their faces, but several were now looking toward the infantry with something closer to excitement. Kael had given them a reason to believe they might survive this, and he intended to use it before the soldiers recovered.

He turned and ran straight toward the closest formation. Shields snapped forward as the soldiers saw him coming, and spearpoints lowered through the gaps behind them. Their commander shouted another order while the front rank braced for the charge.

Kael accelerated instead of slowing. One soldier near the center visibly shifted his shield, apparently expecting him to stop before reaching the spearpoints. Kael drove his boots into the dirt hard enough to crack the ground beneath them and jumped.

He rose above the front rank with both arms lifted and his legs trailing behind him. The soldiers looked up, several raising their shields while others simply stared at the armored man passing over their weapons. Kael leaned forward as his ascent ended and activated his gauntlets.

Frost bloomed across his left hand while Fire erupted around his right. Pale cold and orange flame spread over opposite fists as he descended into the formation. Directly beneath him, one unfortunate soldier managed to get his shield overhead.

Kael landed on it. The shield folded, the soldier collapsed beneath him, and the impact drove both into the ground before Kael’s knees finished bending. He brought his fists down on either side of the crushed shield and struck the earth.

Fire blasted outward from his right hand while Frost erupted from his left. Ice raced across greaves, shields, and weapons, locking armored joints and freezing boots to the ground. On the other side, flame forced men backward as heat rushed beneath their armor and caught exposed cloth.

The ground cracked around Kael, leaving a shallow crater beneath his feet. Men staggered or were thrown into the ranks behind them, knocking shields out of position and dragging others down as they fell. The soldiers who had been ready to receive a charge suddenly found themselves struggling to remain upright.

Kael rose in the middle of the ruined formation with smoke curling from one gauntlet and frost coating the other. For a brief moment, the nearest soldiers could only stare at him. He looked past them toward his waiting underlings and raised his voice.

"NOW!"

They did not understand the word, but they understood the opportunity. The oldest gladiator lifted his cutlass and screamed, drawing an answering shout from the remaining eleven. Then the entire ragtag group charged as the spectators erupted around them.

Kael turned back just as a soldier thrust a sword toward his ribs. He caught the man’s wrist, pulled him forward, and drove his other fist into the center of his chest. Brass armor caved beneath the gauntlet, and the soldier flew backward into two men who were trying to recover their footing.

Another attacked from the side, forcing Kael to duck beneath the blade before kicking the man’s legs out from under him. A shield came toward his face before the soldier had finished falling. Kael caught its edge, ripped it free, and swung it sideways into a nearby helmet.

The young gladiators reached the broken formation seconds later. Soldiers who had expected to fight behind overlapping shields suddenly had opponents coming through the gaps, over fallen men, and around weapons they could no longer bring to bear. Their discipline had given them control while the ranks held together, but Kael was making certain they never got the chance to restore them.

The oldest gladiator slipped around a shield and struck its owner with the flat of his cutlass. Another tackled a soldier around the waist before he could turn, driving both of them into the dirt.

Kael caught sight of one of the younger gladiators backing into the path of a sword. He stepped between them before the thrust landed, taking the blade against his gauntlet and closing his fingers around it. The soldier stared at the trapped weapon just long enough for Kael to headbutt him.

Their helmets struck with a ringing clang, and the soldier dropped beside his sword. Kael turned from him to punch another man away, then kicked a third before he could raise his weapon. Three meters beyond them, several soldiers were trying to form a fresh shield wall.

He charged before they finished. The soldiers managed to brace, but the impact drove the man in the center backward into the rank behind him. Those beside him stumbled inward as their shields lost support, and Kael pushed through before anyone could close the gap.

Within seconds, the disciplined unit had become a collection of men trying very hard not to stand directly in front of him. Whenever a few managed to gather, Kael forced his way toward them and broke them apart again. That left the young gladiators with opponents they could reach without having to fight through an entire formation.

They noticed the difference quickly. Their shouts grew louder, and the men who had barely wanted to move a few minutes earlier began pressing forward. One climbed onto a soldier’s back and hammered the top of his helmet with the pommel of a stolen sword, while another used a shield nearly as large as his torso to ram an opponent into the dirt.

A spear came toward Kael through the confusion. He caught the shaft, pulled its wielder forward, and stepped aside as the man stumbled past him. The soldier ran straight into one of the young gladiators, who looked startled for half a second before punching him in the face.

Kael laughed at the boy’s expression as the soldier fell. The young man glanced toward him, still holding one fist raised as though surprised by how well that had worked. Kael gave him a nod of approval.

The boy grinned before turning back toward the fight, a stolen weapon already within reach at his feet. Kael was watching him retrieve it when a horn sounded over the noise of the melee.

"LET’S SEE HOW WELL YOU DANCE!"

Kael said as he literally grabbed and hurled a man several dozen meters in the air. More of the soldiers realized that this man they were surrounded was no man. But a hulking beast that was tearing through their ranks.

More men were either crushed, kicked, stepped on, or simply thrown against their own brethren. There was no finesse or mastery, no technique or martial arts, nothing but pure brawn and muscle. And in a war of numbers, that mattered much more than who can swing a sword more beautifully.

Kael looked up and saw the remaining chariots changing direction.

They had stopped circling the arena and were turning toward the fighting instead. His smile disappeared as the first driver brought his horses into line with the largest cluster of men.

The blades extending from those wheels would cut through anyone standing in their path. Imperial armor offered no more protection from them than the young gladiators’ poor equipment, and there were soldiers packed among his underlings. Apparently the drivers had decided that was acceptable.

Kael shoved a soldier away and turned toward the others, but several were too busy fighting to notice him. The oldest had his cutlass caught against a shield, and two of the younger men were trying to drag an opponent off his feet. None of them were looking toward the approaching horses.

"Of course."

He pushed through two soldiers as the chariot gained speed. Its rider reached for a javelin, while the driver kept the horses aimed directly toward the broken formation. The pounding hooves were growing louder, but the men nearest Kael still seemed more concerned with the weapons in front of them.

There were too many people packed together to clear the path in time. His underlings were mixed among the soldiers, and even those who noticed the danger would have to force their way through the fighting to escape. He could dodge the charge himself, but he could not let it reach the others.

Kael rolled his shoulders and stepped out of the melee. Behind him, steel rang against shields while the crowd grew louder at the sight of the approaching chariot. Ahead, the two armored warhorses continued charging, dragging the bladed vehicle straight toward him.

"All right."

He planted his feet in the churned dirt and watched the harnesses pull tight beneath the horses’ strides. The chariot bounced over a shallow rut without slowing, its driver making a small adjustment to keep the charge straight. Kael flexed his gauntleted hands and held his ground.

"Let’s see how strong these things actually are."