Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3) by David Beers (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

He and the giant took off, their feet pounding the floor. They met the enemy at the top of the next hill.

Three men stood shoulder to shoulder, but only Alistair and Caesar could face them. The giant had his two laser blades out, and he launched one. It somersaulted through the air and pierced a skull. The enemy remained standing as if unable to decide what to do next.

He hit the floor.

Alistair and Caesar surged forward. The Titan saw everything and very little at the same time. His body reacted by instinct as he battled in the tightest quarters he'd ever experienced, yet the giant adapted to Alistair's fighting style. When Alistair needed more space, it was there, and when he needed support, the huge creature gave it.

Those behind the two gods of war watched in awe. They all had their weapons ready, but they didn’t get the opportunity to use them.

In truth, to meet Alistair and Caesar in a tight spot was a death warrant. Of course, those attacking couldn't have known that, but the physical setup favored them. The enemy could only have three men fighting at a time, and none of them were prepared for the violence they ran into. Alistair cut them down with his Whip as Caesar used his sheer size to pulverize anyone who got in his way.

They fought through a quarter-kilometer of men, stepping over the dead even as they created new death. At the end of the quarter-kilometer, the remaining men fled. They buckled under the pressure of certain death and rushed back into the fortress.

Alistair turned to the giant, his shoulders heaving as breath rushed in and out of his mouth. "Well done."

Caesar nodded but said nothing. Blood and guts covered the two of them as if they'd been born from a nightmare.

Alistair turned to look at his soldiers. "You all okay?"

He saw the awe on their faces. Perhaps fear, too. So much violence in such a fashion had to inspire both emotions.

Relm finally spoke. "Just waiting for my chance to get involved, broth."

The giant replied, "It is coming."

Ares wore his MechSuit, everything but the helmet still retracted into the neckline. He stood next to one of the underworld generals, a man who looked like he'd been in his fair share of battles but had no training outside of what his profession had given him through trial and error.

The general held a DataTrack, and Ares had watched Alistair and some freak of nature wipe out almost a legion. Finally, the men fled, knowing that to stand any longer would only bring death.

Ares had never seen anything like the man next to Alistair. He was covered in black armor and was much taller than Alistair. "Who is that?" he asked as they watched the invasion proceed uninhibited.

"That's a gigante," the general said absently. "He must have started serving your friend there at some point."

"He's human, right?" Ares asked. The word “gigante” sounded foreign, and the man was too big. Something wasn't adding up.

"To a point, I guess. They're made in labs. We have more." The general touched things on the DataTrack, giving orders to move men and weapons to the tunnel's endpoint. The plan was to make it a kill zone, where Alistair would be forced into tight quarters. Manius' men could spread out and fire indiscriminately.

Ares knew Alistair wasn't stupid. He'd expect this, and the man was a brilliant tactician, so it wouldn't be as easy as the general was thinking. "You have more of those things?" He pointed at the DataTrack.

"Quite a few, yes." He was hardly paying attention to anything Ares said.

"Why in the hell aren't we using them? That creature is a force of nature. A tornado."

"It's too late for a lot of reasons I don't have time to explain right now, all right? Just know your friend there could turn the entire cohort against us, and then we’d be in real trouble. Got it?"

Ares didn't, not really. The general was pinning his hopes on this kill zone, but Ares was thinking further ahead. There was a thirty percent chance Alistair would make it out of that, especially with the creature at his side. He was like a battering ram of old, the kind invading armies had used to break down a castle's doors.

Where are you going, old friend? Ares wondered. You can expect to get inside here, I think, but back out? No. You've lost the element of surprise, and carrying a wounded Thoreaux with you? You'll be cut down.

It clicked then what Alistair's plan was. He was far too smart to think he could get out, not without help. Ares didn't understand what the general had said, but if Alistair was in charge of one of those creatures, he did understand.

If this man thought all those gigantes would serve the Fallen Titan, then so did Alistair. He was heading to them.

Ares left the general, the plan formulating in his head. He had to find Hel.

Ares rushed through the fortress. The bitch had to know what was happening by now, and there was no chance she'd fight Alistair straight up. Ares had seen other Titans like her who had devolved the same way. A beating that severe changed a person. It brought real fear to them, perhaps for the first time, and that was what had happened to Hel. She would try to hurt Alistair in the most painful ways imaginable, but only if she was safe.

Ares found her in her room. She was donning her battle gear, but her Whip was already on her hip. Her back was to him when he stepped in the open doorway. "Are you going to fight?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

"Yes," she said, both of them knowing it was a lie.

"The prisoner, is he dead?"

Hel strapped a vest to her chest. "No. I'll kill him when Kane is there to see it."

"Do you think we're going to win this? After everything that's happened, you know he's