"Mochi, you need to get some sleep." Yuki leaned against my back and purred as I worked at the tree stump that served as my workbench. "It's been three days since I got to use you as a pillow."
The dwarves had been working hard to create a fortress out of nothing, and the beastkin were traversing the wastes collecting a demon train to follow them. I couldn't just do the bare minimum of maintaining my weapons and armor, my workaholic nature wouldn't let me, so I had spent the days and nights working to collect demon cores to make into tools of war and purifing demon beasts into edible food.
Naturally, the beastkin were more than happy to take the extra meat off my hands. Every time I took a five minute nap, I'd find a pile of miasma soaked demon beasts waiting in front of my tent for purification.
I wished I could understand what the beastkin were saying, but it felt good to see clearly starving people eat their fill.
"You go on ahead of me." I told Yuki without interrupting my work. "I've only made half the number we need for the battle."
In my hands was a weapon that I really wanted to test against demons in massed combat. Hopefully it would be as effective against demons as it was against humans.
"Mrowr." Yuki grumbled for a bit before exiting the tent. She returned a few minutes later and put my helmet on my head.
Huh? Why's she putting my helmet on? Why does she have the elder's hammer-
CLANG!
The last thing I remembered, aside from a ringing in my ears, was being dragged into my bed, and Yuki curling up on top of me with satisfied purring. Perhaps a break would be a good idea, and taking her suggestions in future might be good for my health.
The headache I woke up with the next morning convinced me that next time Yuki told me to get some rest, I should go to bed. I wanted to avoid getting whacked in the head again. Although it was a promise that a workaholic like me couldn't keep.
Further padding in my helmet became a necessity.
A week after our arrival at the beastkin settlement, we were assembled for battle with the demons. Chief Haiku informed us that his scouts had lured enough pockets of demons to make for a legendary battle, and the dwarven warriors were more than ready for it.
Dwarves of the Warrior's Guild, especially those in Clan Stormfall, lived solely for battle. They slept and breathed warfare. I couldn't help but get caught up a bit in their enthusiasm as they sharpened their blades and polished their shields. In the dawn's early light.
Where there previously was nothing but barren wastes, a dirt fortress had risen above the level ground. I had advocated in my spare time for a historical Roman fortress that partially been adopted by the clan leader as an accommodation to the son of the thane. An empty moat surrounded our position that was absolutely packed with wooden spikes, courtesy of the beastkin. It was also filled with a surprise I felt would turn the tide of battle even more than the spikes.
"That boar bacon this morning was really good." Yuki remarked as she munched on some snacks before assembly. She passed me a piece of jerky.
"Mhmm! This is good. Beastkin are excellent cooks." My comment caused her to blush and purr contentedly. Before I could ask about it, Clan Leader Gradhogord stepped onto a small platform to address his warriors.
We formed into our lines at the edge of the moat and turned towards the clan leader.
"My fellow dwarves of the Stormfall Clan!" He boomed out. "Chief Haiku says that his scouts have rounded up five hundred members of the demonic race. They approach rapidly. Soon we will have the honor to prove our worth and test the strength of our arms. Let our ancestors see that we are deserving of their good name and fight with the strength of a thousand dwarves!"
The two hundred dwarves present, and one catfolk girl, let out an eager cheer. Full of vigour and courage. We turned around to face the treeline where the demons should presently emerge.
A dozen or so beastkin ran out, they were the ones leading the demon forces towards our fortress. When the lures spotted us, they tripled their speed and somehow managed to leap over the moat and collapsed once they were safe.
Although initially surprised at their supposed prey escaping, the demons saw us waiting with drawn arms and let out their demonic battle cries. Contrasting with our deep bass and baritone war chants, demonic war shrieks were shrill and spine chilling.
"Ready for this, Yuki?" I asked as I gripped my weapon. "Wait, doesn't it look like there are more than five hundred of the wazzocks?"
"Nya that you mention it…" She appeared to count the rushing demons. "One... Two... Three... Four..."
"There are at least a thousand." Etrig, who was stationed next to us as the only other student in the party, grumbled to us. Yuki and I stared at him, wondering how he was able to count that fast. "Counting the number of your enemies is a skill taught to every child of the Stormfall Clan."
"A thousand demons." I scratched under my helmet and wiped away the bead of sweat that was forming. "Maybe I should have prepared more."
"Stormfall Clan!" Elder Wevrik bellowed from his place on the front line. Which happened to be a few yards to the right and front of us. "Hold the line. If we can fight off this amount of demons, then surely word of our exploits will reach the High King himself. Fight! Fight for honor, for glory, for the ancestors!"
"For the ancestors!" Weapons were beaten against shields as the excitement and enthusiasm grew ever greater. I did my best to maintain a level head and did one last check of my weapons, but I could feel goosebumps appearing on my skin.
My breathing became labored and my palms threatened to soak my gauntlets. I was a paper pusher workaholic, not a warrior!
"Mochi..."
A warm presence emanated from the catfolk girl. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I felt my spine straighten, my chest puff out, and my gaze steeled.
Time for battle!
If there was one good thing about being a history nerd in my last life, it was that I was familiar with all sorts of ancient killing implements, and my dwarven biology meant I could carry every single one of them. In addition to a few spares for myself and Yuki.
Yuki smiled at me. She swung her short sword, perpetually borrowed from the Goldshield Clan armory, and hopped about to stay loose. Of course, the sword and the rest of her equipment was magically enhanced with demon cores and runes by me to have a variety of buffs.
After a few minutes of tense standing and watching the horde get ever closer, the demons fell into the moat. Seconds seemed like hours as I waited for the first of my crafted devices to go off. They were still untested and I had no clue if they would work against demons.
After seven years in this world, the random informational I had half watched were fading from memory.
KABOOM!
With a bone jarring explosion, the first claymore went off and demon body parts flew in every direction. This was followed by dozens of additional blasts that rocked the battlefield.
"Nya! What was that?" Yuki's head emerged from over my shoulder, her cat ears were flat against her head.
"I didn't tell you before? Those were the landmines I've been working on all week."
"Mrowr! You had those things in our tent? Scary."
Yes. My secret weapon were landmines. Take that Geneva Convention! You can't touch me in another world.
For magical reasons, the demon core powder explosives were more powerful than earthly equivalents. With dozens to hundreds of demons being killed or injured in the first onslaught, with others being unexpectedly being slain by unlucky demons stepping on remaining traps.
"Pay attention, beastkin." Etrig snapped with an overjoyed smile that was brighter than a spotlight as the battle lust washed over him. "That was certainly a surprise, but the battle is about to be joined!"
After the slaughter caused by the explosives, the front lines of demons hesitated for an instant. But only for an instant. They were forced by those behind to continue the assault and the shell shocked demons were swiftly cut down by battle junkie dwarves.
Yuki and I were pushed back out of the line by over eager warriors who were anxious to strike their first blow against the enemy. Elder Wevrik's speech was perhaps a bit too effective at riling up the dwarves.
"Nya, that was rude!" Yuki leaned against me, completely unconcerned. "Can I nap until it's my turn to fight?"
"Wazzock!" Etrig cursed. "How can you contemplate napping in the midst of all this?"
"Mochi will keep me safe." She replied. "He's always kept me safe and will continue keeping me safe."
"It's Mogrim." I corrected her. "We've known each other for two years now, you could at least get my name right!"
"Nya, the name Mochi is cute. Mogrim isn't that cute."
Etrig watched our banter with disbelief. "You two are insane. The ancestors must surely be laughing in their halls."
Our conversation was interrupted by an eight foot tall demon brute leaping through the lines of warriors in front of us. It was wielding a pitch black demonic club that looked otherworldly, and, above all, extremely deadly.
"Hragh!" I grunted as I tanked the ship mast on my shield. "Yuki!"
"On it." She leapt through the air, using my back as a springboard, then cut off the demon's head in one fell stroke. "One down, nine hundred and ninety nine to go."
Her math was quite wrong, but her heart was in the right place.
Together, we charged into the engaged battle line to take on any and all demons that dared to challenge us. We continued with the same pattern. I'd enrage the combatants, pinning them in place with my shield, then Yuki would slice and dice using her superior agility and much lighter body. Etrig had a much more traditional fighting style that relied on personal strength.
He would deflect or tank demon blows, depending on the size and strength of his opponent, before cutting them down. Etrig's strikes took down the demons at their weak points with frightening skill and power.
All around us, similar individual battles occurred.
Elder Wevrik was a tornado of destruction. His axe with a handle longer than he was cleaved demons in half, both top to bottom and side to side. Not a single enemy could even get within a yard's distance of him.
Clan Leader Gradhogord fought in a more restrained manner. His single handed double bladed battleax took down any demon who trapped themselves against his shield.
Demonic death screams mixed in the air with dwarven rallying cries in a stomach churning cacophony. Pained shouts of the wounded swirled as well as razor sharp fangs and claws shredded armor.
My mind was forced to filter every sound and sensation in the fight, flight, or freeze reaction. The last two were not options, so the only thing possible was to fight.
"Look, Mogrim!" Etrig gloated. "The demons flee our strength!"
"Wazzock!" I shouted as I kneecapped a demon before splitting its skull with my ax. "If a single demon escapes, then they'll come back with reinforcements!"
In the thirty seconds afforded to me by slaying my opponent, I glanced around the battlefield. Or at least as much as my diminutive body could see.
Only a portion, a very small portion, of the demons were breaking away from the rear lines and retreating towards the perceived safety of the forest.
There was no one free to deal with the wazzocks. Every dwarf warrior had the entirety of their attention fighting the demons still attacking our lines.
I had enough weapons, but not enough people to wield them.
How should I resolve this? We won't survive another onslaught, not without considerable casualties.
While I tried to think of a solution for an impossible problem. A shadows flickered between me and the sky.
At first I thought it was an airplane, until I remembered this world did not have an aeronautics industry. When I looked up, I found the words emerged on their own.
"The eagles!" I shouted. "The eagles are coming!"
This wasn't completely true, as I found out when they came closer, they were eagle harpies. Their brown feathers and white crested hair reminded me of the American Bald Eagle from my previous life. However, harpies did not have beaks, instead they had beautiful female forms and were exponentially larger than the birds.
With insane speeds of jet fighters, the harpies dove from the sky to shred the demons with their clawed feet. Any demons they missed were sniped by beastkin archers hidden in the trees. It soon became apparent that my worrying had been for nothing.
Another hour of combat later, Elder Wevrik and the clan leader competed for the final kill of the battle.
A throaty cheer echoed where there had only been bloodshed. Victory was ours!