There exist a great many bestiaries regarding the various inhabitants of Tartarus and their pets and so, everything I say has to be taken with a grain of salt and in context. The Tartarian lack of major Divines is instead made up for in terms of sheer numbers, however that does not mean they don't have a ruling elite. Demon Princes come to mind as the most obvious, but lesser Dukes also exist and they, by all means and purposes, are Divines in all categories save for the fact I suspect they are not creatures of belief made manifest. However to try and describe Demon Princes as some unified category is to like throw all Divinity into a pot and claim we are equal. Ultimately, we are dealing with a range that goes from Malam to borderline-Olephia in terms of power.

And yet, if all Tartarus had were just the Demon Princes, they would be little more than a very strong Pantheon. Rather, it is through the sheer military power of the armies that they become a worthy opponent. In this fashion, they resemble the Imperial model of Doctrine, with out Steel & Sorcery rather than the White's Pantheon's evolution of Hero Doctrine. Yet while they lean on the reproducible masses to sustain the strength of their armies and use their Divine-equivalents as auxiliaries of the most elite, that is where the similarity with the Imperial ends.

It is one thing to be a pacifist who cannot stomach the thought of someone dying and to simply be pragmatic about death. I expect anyone reading this book to already comprehend this difference so there is no reason for explanation. Nevertheless, there exist two extremes, the officer who will retreat his men even when they have an overwhelming advantage for fear a single troop could be injured is one extreme. The other is Tartarus.

It is not that they are incapable of tactics, we have all seen that they have excellent generals already. However the rate at which they throw away the lives of their own obviously suggests either a population that is so large it requires culling or a reproductive rate that swells the supply of life to such amounts it effectively becomes worthless.

Example wise, we can take the case of a probing attack. The probing attack is an exposure to danger with no intention of securing victory and rather the objective of such an offensive is to secure information in order to minimize future casualties. I doubt such a concept exists on Tartarus. However they do know of delaying, they do know of waiting for reinforcements, they are capable of terrain analysis and of surrounding. I have even seen them lay siege to fortresses. Yet again, the reason they lay siege is to breach the walls with artillery rather bothering to starve the invaders out.

- Excerpt from "Officer Considerations, sixth edition." Written by Goddess Kassandora, Of War. Handed out to Imperial Officers sixty years into the Great War.

Fer raised her hands to her side, her hips and shoulders rolling from side to side as she confidently walked towards the huge demon that was approaching. Her bushy golden mane fell swayed as it fell down her back. The last of the retreating squads managed to get past the Goddess of Beasthood as cannon fire came from behind her. It would have been a deafening sound if it was just along, but Fer had grown used to it. The huge blasts were all the main cannons of tanks, the still-deep yet slightly quieter ones were APC autocannons. The high-pitched sounds came from the small arms of the troops down here. The crackling of stone was by the mages in the back who were ripping stones out of the ground to hurl into the enemy ranks.

Fer had known it would come sooner rather than later. And it had truly come sooner rather than later. The most surprising thing was that no Demon Prince had been sent. But as Fer saw how efficient the men were with their ammunition, soon enough, it wouldn't matter were it was all the royalty of Tartarus coming here or whether it would just be Hellsteed Cavalry. Once the Imperial Troops ran out of ammunition, they would be little more than little ducks.

Fer's nails grew into claws and her teeth sprouted into fangs as she looked up at the huge demon that had fixed its terrible little beady eyes upon her. It must have had some specific name but the Empire had reduced these huge, hulking, barn-sized monstrosities to just being known as greater demons. Some had wings, this one lacked them. It came in heavy armour of Tartarian blacksteel, small arms fire harmlessly clinked and sparked off the surface. Fer launched forwards before the tanks behind her started wasting her ammunition.

The demon carried a huge cleaver, the size of a light post, although it did not react in time as a Goddess came before it. Likewise, the monster's easily stopped the small arms fire, it probably would have taken a few cannon shells to crack, and it gave way under Fer on her first attempt. Metal bent and twisted with hair as darkness overwhelmed her. Warmth and liquid soon followed, it was the warmth of life and the liquid had a strong taste of iron and copper, higher than in humans. Fer licked her lips and drank eagerly. She was inside the monster's body.

Fer pressed around with her hands and felt the world around her rotate. The monster must have fallen over. She thought trying to find her way out of an opening through the armour and settled on the usual method for herself, a direct escape. In the same way she had done when she launched towards the creatures chest, she bent down, looked up, pre-emptively raised both fists to not bump her head and then unleashed all she could.

Stolen story; please report.

The Goddess of Beasthood reappeared from the body of the greater in a fountain of blood and slammed into the ceiling. Immediately, she stabbed a hand into the stone to hold herself there and inspected the battlefield.

That had not even be a single corps. It was probably just the most eager platoon or the demons who happened to be the closest to the entrance when they got the order to charge. Fer slid her claws into the ceiling and inspected the state of the two armies before her. A permanent, hot flame had hidden most of the rift from view. Now, only a sliver of the cliff was visible although the demons had very obviously built themselves some bridge or platform to let them stream back into the Dwarven Highway that they had just been expelled from. On the Imperial side, it was the opposite. There was no horde, instead it was columns of trucks which were driving away as men aimed guns back from them. The tanks and APCs had formed and lines and were reversing as a considerably slower pace, although they had obviously been tasked with the worst job of being the rear guard. The scraps of men that were still running about by the vehicles were quickly hurrying into something, anything that could take them away from here faster than their boots could carry them.

Fer's eyes found a man waving in a direction that could only mean he wanted her attention and she jumped down. They were maybe a minute from crashing down upon the first line of Imperial men even with the fact that line was moving backwards. No time to look. Fer twisted her entire body, her feet pressed against the ceiling and she kicked off.

The Goddess of Beasthood crashed down next to the soldier who had been waving. Black uniform, Imperial tricolour, then the Lubskan flag underneath it on his arm. An officer's cap on his head. "We've ordered a full retreat." Captain Jaroslaw said. "I've been asked to confirm it with you."

Fer raised an eyebrow. "Why?" She asked.

"We're going to be over-"

Fer interrupted the fellow. "I don't mean that, why bother telling me?"

"You're the Goddess, aren't you?" Jaroslaw asked. Fer supposed she was.

"It's not my demesne. Command your troops how you wish and then explain to Kassie why you decided you couldn't complete her goals." Jaroslaw did not look happy with the way Fer phrased that whatsoever, but there was little for him to argue with. He nodded and stepped away, bringing up the radio that every officer carried. Fer had wanted one until she learned it was so terribly short-range by itself that even her ears managed to be just as strong.

"Goddess Fer has agreed to it. Speed up the retreat. The man saluted and nodded, gunfire started to grow rapid and of Beasthood turned to see what was approaching now. More demons in black armour, more tiny flying imps, a trio of the greater demons this time. Another one was dragging himself up the cliff. A team of succubi dressed in nothing save for long coats of flame dived into from the side. Fer did not bother dismissing the man. She just watched the vanguard of the Section Expedition retreat in as organised manner as they could. "Thank you Fer." The man said.

Tanks opened fire, shells crashed into swarms of demons and sent dozens blown apart in a single explosion. Bodies that were hurled into air fell onto others to knock them down like bowling pins. One of the greater demons roared as his shoulder was ripped apart by a tank shell. The massive limb fell to the ground, crushing another set of demons as the beast fell to its knees. Sorcerers lifted off into the air and were clad in all the glories of crimson madness as they lashed out towards the prominent threats. The greater Demons and the Succubi in the air who could make pillars of flame explode from underneath the boots of men. The mages shook their jewel-clad gloves and waved their wands and spun their staves as balls of water condensed into the air around them or rocks lifted out from the ground.

And yet, through that total, overpowering cacophony of guttural roars and of crackling flames, of rapid gunfire and of thunderous explosions, of tiny screeches and of men shouting orders, Fer's ears swivelled when she heard of the most distinctive sounds of this new age. Metal clicking on metal as a spring launched a hammer forward and then bounced it back. One of the men had run out of ammunition. Fer didn't even bother to look at him, she trusted her ears to be correct. From the same general area of that clicking sound, came a shout. "Reloading!" A man shouted.

For a moment, Fer turned back to see the state of the retreat. Trucks had turned around and soldiers had dragged the machine guns on their rear. All that was being left were the sandbags although how much had they brought here in the first place? Fer's ears swivelled again and heard that same clicking. She heard the steaming hiss of metal as it began to heat. She listened to the trundling treads of tanks slowly reverse again.

And she took another step forward. This wave, they should still be able to handle. They had enough ammunition for it definitely. Fer found a good angle, one that would allow her shoot up, crash through a team of imps and then cannonball into another greater demon's head. This retreat could not happen quickly enough.

Fer knelt for a moment and felt the entire world slow down as she concentrated on nothing but the angle, the amount of force going to her legs, the speed she would release everything at. She blinked and felt her other senses become momentarily stronger. She picked out each and every smell, from the rubber reinforced with metal of tank treads to the fuel in their engines and the sweet scent of it being burned. She practically tasted biting gunpowder and coppery blood. She smell the stone around them and she smelled the demons from ahead. Their terrible, rushing masses as they flung themselves into a barrage of rapid fire.

The sound was a barraging cornucopia of noise, nothing like the beautiful tune of the Orchestra her sister commanded. It was a disgusting, deafening mess that seemingly tried to be everything a battle could produce. Orders were barked, curses were hurled, fires raged in the background as the centre stage was taken up by running boots and gunfire punctuated with the great thunderclaps that sounded every time one of the large tanks shot a shell, then again when it found target, and then everything only got worse as mages ripped the elements from nature and forced them to do mankind's bidding. And yet through it all, Fer's ears stood tall as her brows narrowed. The background had a background, below the sound of it all was the rattle of sliding, flowing sand.

How long did they have?

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