A Yarmdon Puppeteer - Part 5

THUD!

Count Thrush flinched, as two men from the final rank were blown away, bearing open a gap. Thrush had thought there were more rows that the faceless force would need to charge through, but once more, that thudding force had betrayed his expectations.

Thrush's horse took a step back, as if realizing the same danger that Thrush himself had begun to realize.

Now they could both see it. First, it was a bloody hammer of giant proportions that drew the eye. And then it was the giant youth, drenched in dark purple blood, that took a man's attention and then made a slave of it.

Seeing him, Thrush understood, on an instinctual, animalistic level. The boy he saw was the single rogue element that he knew to fear. That which shouldn't exist on the battlefield – a single man, capable of changing the tides all by his lonesome.