Ninteenth wave.

[Oton]

The sky was dark, covered by heavy, gray and hanging clouds.
It was always like this by that time in the Southern lands of Imperia.
The air carried the smell of ozone, cold and moistly. The rain was about to pour any moment now.
Imperian unit was patrolling the clearing nervously, watching vigilantly every point of the dense forest. The soldiers were hungry, tired and broken. Their replacement was late as usual, food had all gone yesterday and water was off limits because they were not allowed to abandon the position.
The Captain had deployed the army in the village which was ten miles in North, his orders were to defend it no matter the cost. The problem was... this time nobody knew who or... what will be the enemy. The terrain was the worst possible for defense. Not too high hills were taking turns with pastures and the dense forested wilderness shouldering the entire area. Maneuvering the cavalry would be extremely difficult here and the archers were useless because of the thick bushes which deprive them from the advantage of their long range.
"A those... dreadful Sarans could be still everywhere..."
Foreman's thoughts were interrupted by a muted buzz.
He was just about to turn and see the source of this buzz when... the yard and a half long arrow pierced his neck.
The soldier fell and his comrades saw his face turning gray, with foam coming out of his mouth. He shivered, his eyes stared glassy and... he died.
'Poison', the other soldier screamed, but he didn't have time for anything else.
Five more poison arrows were fired from the woods.
Black skinned warriors, armed with long pikes, stepping as silently as panthers, started to come out between the trees.
And they were bringing the rain along.

Nineteenth wave results

Successful pillages: 1990
Defenders' victories: 570

Nomads killed: 34489080
Imperian soldiers killed: 2238005

Civilians killed or taken into slavery: 21935039

General Robust sacrificed over thirty four million of tree children, but he managed to severely damage the imperian civil population. The free rulers had never seen such numerous force before and they simply did not have enough time to prepare to meet the sea of enemy spears in time. Robust immediately impressed the Horde Chieftains with his brutality and the barbarians started to treat his lightly armed, but extremely mobile and fierce black soldiers with respect.
For the first time in the nomad history a Warlord coming from the Jungle, was recognized as a Marshall of the Horde after one single battle. It was unheard of. But Mony and Xaoc were wise leaders and preferred to pay the necessary respect to him instead of isolation. Robust's exotic soldiers earn the recognition with their blood, after all.
And their Marshall himself... was only yearning for rest.
'Well, kiddo, looks like you will be the next to lead the sons of Steppe into battle', they were sitting both with Jane in front of his tent, drinking green tea and enjoying it. The General had brought plenty of it. It was known for this tea that it was mad from the leafs of an ancient tree. It calmed the nerves, as well as replenishing the strength. Amazon had forgotten how it tasted.
"It's been a long time indeed."
'Like I said, my old friend... Each night here... is someone's last.'
The both kept quiet for some time and the afternoon sun finally managed to pierce the clouds and light up their faces.
The spring was coming into nomads camp.
And the war continued.
More brutal and more merciless than ever.