Chapter 246: The Fall of the Compies

The attack that the clones initiated was like an erection. It was strong, but it was short lasting.

They were powerful, and they had plenty of advantages to aid them, yes, but regardless of that fact, they were significantly out-numbered, and it was even surprising that they could get the death-count to three-hundred people already.

If shocks of pain couldn’t get to them, the bloodloss surely would.

Even the Compy clones who spent the entirety of their time floating above the army of enemies, and only coming down for a bite, were wounded several times already. The enemy had plenty of spears, at least ten of them each, since they were prepared for a big battle, and a long trip, and when that was multiplied by a thousand, the fact was that the enemy had at least ten-thousand spears to shoot!

Ten-thousand spears against forty-five massive targets would eventually buy the enemy an advantage, that was a no brainer. Even if half of the army were killed off before they could use up all of their spears, someone would eventually run into the spears, the ones that weren’t broken at least, and use them to their advantage!

The apes suffered great casualties. They took many people with them, but they eventually fell into an eternal slumber, one after the other. Three died from blood loss, and two from shock.

However, at that point, the death-count amongst the enemy was up and above four-hundred people! They lost nearly half of their comrades, and they were gaining an advantage over the massive clones, yes, but the battle wasn’t over yet.

It was fair to say that both sides were suffering.

The Compy clones made one mistake, they spread themselves too thin, as they followed the many lit torches across the mountainside. In one way, they wanted to have a mouthful of the enemy without any of the other large clones interrupting them, but in the other way, this was what made them easy targets!

Even within the depths of the night, where the hand-held torches barely provided any illumination of what floated above their heads, the enemy had a good chance to hit something even if they made bland assumptions of where the giant, flying dinosaurs were.

With several spears to aid every single comrade within their group, at least a tenth of them landed on a Compy clone eventually, and this was when the clock started ticking.

The enemy could probably never kill a six-ton dinosaur by blunt force, but just like nearly every other creature that stepped foot on this planet, or swam in its many seas, wounded animals could bleed out.

Considering that the Compy clones were twelve-meters, or forty feet long from head to tail, there was a decent sized surface-area for the enemy to hit. They didn’t even have to be good at aiming for their spears to eventually hit flesh.

Granted, some of the spears fell back from the sky and hit some of the comrades, but that was a risk that the enemy had to take.

Once wounded, the Compies got pissed off, and grounded themselves more often, placing their large feet awkwardly above the edge of the pathway.

They were heavy, so they destroyed parts of the pathway for good, and blocked it for eternity, or at least until someone cleared it up.

Once grounded, they got closer to the enemy, and even slipped into the pathway by a few feet. Their bodies couldn’t nearly fit within the pathway, but they still grabbed a hold of several enemies, crushing them to death, or eating them whole before they got the chance to run away.

The men and women that did manage to get away, were piling up on one another like sardines, trying to make some distance from whichever one of the clones had landed close by, and within that short time-bracket, they managed to regain some of their composure, and launch another counter-attack.

With a big target to hit, they threw one spear after the other, and did not miss.

Each Compy had at least fifteen wounds on their bodies before they even grounded themselves, and after that point, their wounds counted above forty.

The shock was equal to stepping into a toothpick for them. It wasn’t too bad, but they had been bleeding already, and were bleeding even more now, so their movements were sloppy.

Some of the Compies clumsily charged forward within the narrow pathway, and hurt themselves in the process. They either cracked their bones, or suffered some blistering sprains, which tampered with their mobility quite significantly.

After that point, they were easy targets. They accepted their deaths, and slowly succumbed to it as they painted the pathway with their own blood.

Their deaths were like a domino-effect. It was exponential.

When all forty of the Compies were alive, the enemy had lost four-hundred men already.

However, after that death-count reached five-hundred, ten Compies had already succumbed to the sweet, quiet embrace of death.

It was no picnic, and the enemy had managed to figure out how to fight back already. They were stuck within a big, natural formation of rocks and hard stone, but they were no longer stuck within a rock and a hard place.

There were plenty of cavemen within the army who were Combat Mages, other than mere cavemen. Their abilities were combat based, so along with the many fireballs and thunderbolts that had been shot already, another wave of them followed suit, targeting the clones that were grounded, and easier to hit.

Even if short, it burned a hell of a lot hotter than the stab-wound of a spear, and the aftermath of the burn was impossible to shake away under a short time. Thunderbolts were even more disabling, as it messed with the equilibrium of the already wounded dinosaurs. Great volts of electricity were effective against anything that had a heart-beat, regardless of how big that creature was.

Many more Compy clones fell, and by the time when all of them were gone, dead, the total death-count they managed to inflict against the enemy was a bit above six-hundred.

Plenty of them were injured, and they might not make it to the next sunrise, but the clones that Jimmy sicked on the enemy, be it ape or dinosaur, were done with their contributions. They succumbed to the warm, or perhaps even cold embrace of death, and left their bodies behind, for the enemy to either stab out of spite, eat, and etcetera.

With the casualties they suffered, the remaining four-hundred or so survivors of the massacre considered running away all together. At least half of them considered it, and when they saw the many bodies of their comrades, some whole, and some not, they were even more convinced to flee, but amongst the crowd, some tribe Chiefs, and many elders had survived.

Their influence amongst the crowd was great, and they were aware of this, so they used it to their advantage.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of the elders asked, “You poor bastards, do you not realize what we have achieved? We conquered the mountain that no other man had conquered! We have stared the spirit of this forsaken place in the eye, and spat on it!”

Likewise, other influential people across the long pathway shared similar tales of pride, of glory. They were too proud to admit defeat, for one thing, and were sure that the battle past the tip of the mountain was an easy one, one that they should win within minutes, and so, they didn’t want to give up. They’d push forward even if they had to storm their enemy alone, but if a few hundred people followed after them, it was all the better.

“We will fight to the end!” One of the few tribal Chiefs shouted, “Anyone who abandoned the battle, abandoned us, better kill themselves up this mountain along with the rest of the men and women they stabbed on the back! If we find them, I’ll behead them myself!”

Other people of influence shared the same message, more or less, and so, with a total of four-hundred people, half of them injured, and a tenth of them close to death, they pushed through the mountainside.

They climbed through the wreckage that the clones caused, be it barricades made out of stone, their bodies, or the hundreds of bodies of cavemen, and pushed towards the tip of the mountainside.

They were several hours away from the people they targeted, and with the battle they suffered through, and survived, the people who either pushed forward out of their own willpower, or were dragged into battle through direct threats, the survivors had to pretend like they had a fighting chance. They had to believe that they could win.

The tribe past the mountain was supposed to be small, it was supposed to be easy to wipe out, and they took comfort in that fact, but in their perspective, they believed that not even the mountain wanted them up here.

They didn’t connect the monstrous apes, and the flying dinosaurs to the dinosaur tamer they were all briefly aware of. They were sure the dinosaur tamer was dead, for one thing, so they believed that the casualties they suffered today came from the mountain itself as capital punishment, or as a test, granting the survivors the definition of permanent passage.

“Hopefully the mountain will treat us better next time,” Many of them thought.

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