Dominion Command Tent
General Thrace studied the battlefield map with growing frustration. Six hours of combat. Frontline barely moved despite deploying everything except final reserves.
"Deploy the reserves. Fifteen thousand fresh troops. Hit their center and south flank simultaneously. We break their line before nightfall"
Officers moved quickly, relaying orders.
Ten thousand infantry to center—replacing exhausted frontline troops who had been fighting for six hours straight.
Five thousand mixed units to south—pressure Coalition archer positions on hills, force them into melee combat where they were less effective.
Controlled beasts increased to two hundred total. Mix of Servitors and Nobles, coordinated assault designed to overwhelm.
***
Coalition Center Formation
The Vendar militiaman had been fighting for six hours. Arms aching, legs trembling, barely able to lift shield anymore.
Then he saw them coming. Fresh Dominion troops. Thousands of them. Not exhausted. Not wounded. Ready to fight.
"Gods, they have reserves we did not know about"
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"
Fresh troops hit tired defenders like wave against beach. Coalition line buckled immediately.
He stabbed with spear mechanically. Dominion soldier—younger, stronger, fresher—batted it aside and slammed shield into him. He went down hard.
Squadmate dragged him back before finishing blow landed. "Fall back! Organized retreat!"
Coalition pressed back two hundred meters in brutal thirty minutes.
Casualties spiked. Eight hundred Coalition wounded just in that half hour. Four hundred Dominion casualties from attacking across open ground.
***
Southern hills turned into melee chaos. Archers forced to draw swords, fighting hand-to-hand against infantry climbing slopes.
Without high ground advantage and clear shooting lanes, archer effectiveness plummeted. Hills contested, advantage lost.
***
Freed Beast Deployment
Thessa heard the call through Feyra's Lightfield network. Coalition line buckling. Reinforcements needed immediately.
Her squad—twenty freed beasts, mix of Servitors and Nobles—formed up rapidly.
Across the staging area, three hundred Servitor-tier beasts prepared for light combat and harassment duties. Two hundred Noble-tier beasts equipped for frontline fighting with pack tactics. Fifty Elite-tier specialists readying for precision strikes against Dominion beast handlers.
First combat of her life. Terrified. But cubs were safe in Bloomring, protected by Terys and garrison. She fought so they would grow up free.
"Move out! Support center formation!"
They ran forward. Thessa's legs carried her toward sounds of battle. Toward screaming and clashing and death.
Human soldier beside her shouted. "Stay close to us! We will protect your flanks!"
She had never thought she would fight. Never imagined choosing to run toward danger.
But this was pack. Real pack. Choosing together.
***
Freed beasts hit the wavering Coalition line with fresh enthusiasm.
Thessa used her speed to dart between enemy soldiers, harassing, distracting, creating openings for human warriors to exploit.
Dominion soldier swung sword at her. She ducked, bit his leg—not deep, just enough to make him stumble. Human soldier beside her finished what she started.
"Good work! Keep moving!"
Noble-tier freed beasts fought in coordinated packs alongside human infantry. Elite-tier specialists targeted Dominion beast handlers with precision strikes, disrupting enemy controlled beasts.
Line stabilized. Not advancing, but no longer retreating. Fresh enthusiasm countered Dominion numerical advantage.
***
Then something happened that confused everyone.
Dominion controlled beast—a Noble-tier hound forced to fight—suddenly turned toward Thessa and her pack. Stared at them fighting willingly alongside humans.
Handler whipped resonance through control rod. "ATTACK THEM!"
Hound hesitated. Just one second. But visible hesitation.
"They fight for humans willingly? That is unnatural! That is wrong!"
More handlers noticed freed beasts fighting as equals. Morale disruption spread through Dominion beast handler corps.
Everything they believed about beasts needing chains, about control being necessary—challenged by visible evidence.
***
Thessa felt it then. Section of battlefield where she stood—reality tilted.
Not physically. Something deeper. All the freed beasts around her stumbled simultaneously. Lost coordination for ten seconds.
Dominion controlled beasts felt it too. Panicked. Control rods flickered as resonance disrupted momentarily.
Handlers struggled frantically. "What is causing this? Stabilize them!"
Thessa recovered her footing. "What was that? Felt like the world tilted wrong"
Passed quickly. Battle continued. But something was deeply wrong with this battlefield.
***
Zor Descends
Through bond, Draven's mental command reached him: *Zor. Center formation is still under pressure. Break their advance*
*Storm answers, Bearer*
Zor dove from five hundred meters altitude. Lightning charged along his wings, building power with every meter descended.
Sovereign Strike.
Impact hit Dominion center like divine wrath. Two-hundred-meter radius explosion. Lightning arced across metal armor, chains of electricity jumping from soldier to soldier.
Three hundred soldiers incapacitated instantly. Not dead—stunned, burned, unconscious. Formation shattered like glass.
Gap created. Coalition infantry exploited immediately, pushing through broken enemy lines.
***
Dominion responded by deploying a King-tier beast. Ironback Rhino, massive and chained, forced into combat against Zor.
Rhino charged. Ground-based versus aerial. Horn aimed to gore.
Zor evaded with aerial superiority, circling above, striking with lightning from safe distance.
Rhino became enraged. For one moment, broke through control conditioning. Turned toward its handler.
Handler whipped resonance viciously. Control rod flared. Pain forced beast back into compliance.
Through bond, Zor transmitted to Draven: *Bearer. That beast is a slave. Like I once was. Like Malvorn is. Every controlled beast here is a victim*
*I know. That is why we must win this. Free them all*
***
Then Zor's lightning strike in one section behaved strangely.
Instead of blue-white electricity, it arced purple. Dissipated faster than it should. Less powerful.
*What is this? Storm obeys me. Why would lightning change color?*
Felt wrongness in that area. *Battlefield is sick. Reality itself is ill. Storm cannot fix this*
Avoided that section for remainder of combat.
***
Emperor's Command Tent, Rear Position
Emperor Valerius received casualty reports with growing dread.
Eight hours of battle. Five thousand Dominion wounded or dead. Three thousand five hundred Coalition casualties.
Losing the attrition war. Slowly but definitively.
General Thrace reported grimly. "We are losing, Majesty. Their constructs, their weapons, their morale—every advantage compounds against us. We need Malvorn deployed now"
Spymaster Korin tried objecting. "Shatterlord deployment carries significant risk. Control rods have been strained during the march. Handlers are reporting anomalous behavior from him—"
"I do not care about risk!" Valerius slammed fist on table. "We are losing this battle! Deploy Malvorn. Break their lines. End this today!"
Orders issued immediately.
Wake Malvorn from combat standby. Rear position, two kilometers back, held in reserve until now.
Handlers prepare advance. Fifty Chainkeepers to escort, control rods fully active.
Target: Coalition center, where Zor struck. Already weakened, perfect strategic breakthrough point.
***
Captain Veros performed final check.
"Lord Malvorn is responsive. Control rods functioning within eighty-five percent parameters. Minor resonance fluctuations detected, but manageable. Ready for deployment"
Valerius: "Send him forward. Crush them"
***
Coalition Center, Malvorn's Approach
The Vendar militiaman felt it before he saw it.
Rumbling. Ground shaking with rhythmic pattern. Not random—footsteps.
Soldiers looked east. Toward Dominion rear lines.
Malvorn emerged from the camp.
Even two kilometers away, impossible to miss. Fifteen stories tall—one hundred eighty feet of living mountain. Each step created magnitude-three earthquake that everyone felt.
Seven Soulsteel shackles glowing blue. Fifty Chainkeepers surrounding him with control rods raised. Body moving forward but eyes—deep brown, tired—showing no aggression. Just obedience forced through two hundred years of conditioning.
"Gods above. That is Lord-tier. How do we fight something like that?"
Dominion soldiers saw their trump card deploying. "The Shatterlord! The Emperor's ultimate weapon! We cannot lose now!"
Morale surged on Dominion side. Wavered on Coalition side. Primal terror. Legend made flesh and chains.
***
Brenn's voice carried through Bloomscript to all units. "Lord-tier earth beast approaching. Do not panic. Severance teams—advance now. Beast Speakers priority mission: free him. He is a slave, not our enemy. Zor, Sylvara—engage if necessary, but liberation is first priority"
Draven spoke directly to severance team leaders nearby. "He has suffered for two hundred years. We end that suffering today. Either he is freed, or we die trying. There is no middle ground here"
***
Malvorn's Internal State
Malvorn walked because handlers forced him to walk.
Two hundred years. Always this. Walk. Fight. Kill. Obey.
But something was different today.
*Covenant frees slaves. They fight for liberation. And I fight against liberation. Against my own hope*
*Chains never broke before. Two hundred years proved it impossible*
*But something feels different today. World feels wrong. Shackles vibrating strangely. Ground unstable beneath my feet*
*What if today is when chains finally break?*
*Hope is pain. Hoping always leads to more pain. But I cannot stop hoping*
***
Then ground beneath him began glowing. Purple-black light spreading in ten-meter radius. Lasted five seconds.
All seven shackles vibrated violently. Simultaneously. Resonance spiking in ways control rods were not designed to handle.
Control rods flickered. Chainkeepers panicked immediately.
Malvorn roared. Not aggression. Pure suffering as anomaly interacted with control rod resonance, amplifying pain beyond normal levels.
Captain Veros shouted frantically. "Stabilize him! What is causing this interference?!"
Chainkeeper responded while adjusting settings. "Unknown, sir! External resonance disruption! I have never seen this pattern before!"
Veros: "Increase dampening power! Keep him controlled! We are five hundred meters from enemy lines!"
Shackles stabilized. Barely. Handlers sweating, control rods pushed to dangerous levels.
Malvorn felt it clearly now.
*Something is breaking. Not just my shackles. Reality itself is breaking*
*And when reality breaks... maybe chains can break too*
*Maybe. Just maybe. Today is different*
***
Notes:
Terminology Clarification: Beast hierarchy is Wildling (rarely in armies) → Servitor (single gift) → Noble (3-5 gifts) → Elite (above Noble, below King) → King → Lord → Overlord. Elite-tier beasts have advanced capabilities beyond Noble but have not yet achieved King-level authority over other beasts.
Dominion Reserves Deployed: Fifteen thousand fresh troops after six hours, ten thousand hit center and five thousand hit southern hills, Coalition line pressed back two hundred meters, casualties spike with eight hundred Coalition wounded in thirty minutes versus four hundred Dominion attacking casualties.
Freed Beasts Enter Combat: Five hundred fifty volunteers (three hundred Servitor-tier for harassment, two hundred Noble-tier for frontline, fifty Elite-tier for precision strikes), stabilize Coalition line through fresh enthusiasm, Thessa experiences first combat thinking of cubs, Dominion handlers disturbed seeing former slaves fighting willingly alongside humans.
Reality Disruption Affects Beasts: Ten-second disorientation hits all beasts in one section regardless of allegiance, freed beasts stumble and lose coordination, Dominion controlled beasts panic and control rods flicker, handlers struggle to maintain control, Thessa feels world tilting wrong.
Zor Engages Center: Sovereign Strike from five hundred meters, two-hundred-meter radius lightning explosion, three hundred Dominion soldiers stunned instantly, Ironback Rhino King-tier forced to fight Zor, rhino briefly breaks control before handler whips resonance viciously, Zor realizes every controlled beast is victim.
Lightning Anomaly: Zor's strike turns purple instead of blue in one section, dissipates faster with less power, Storm Sovereign confused why lightning would change, avoids that area recognizing reality sickness.
Emperor Orders Malvorn: Eight hours battle, five thousand Dominion casualties versus three thousand five hundred Coalition, losing attrition war, overrides concerns about control strain, orders immediate deployment to Coalition center.
Malvorn Advances: Magnitude-three earthquakes with each step, seven glowing shackles visible two kilometers away, fifty Chainkeepers escorting, Coalition morale wavers with primal terror, Brenn orders severance teams forward prioritizing liberation.
Critical Anomaly Near Malvorn: Ground glows purple-black in ten-meter radius for five seconds, all seven shackles vibrate violently and simultaneously, control rods flicker dangerously, Malvorn roars in agony from amplified pain, handlers barely stabilize, Malvorn realizes reality itself is breaking and hopes chains break with it.
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