*Date: 33,480 Second Quarter - Iron Confederacy and Goblin Chiefdoms Border*
The torches of the goblin camp sputtered as night wind swept the clearing. Shadows jerked across the crooked tents, and for a heartbeat all was still. Then Roderic raised his hand.
"Now," he barked.
Marco and Ardrem unleashed fire and lightning. The twin blasts slammed into the goblins clustered around the central bonfire, exploding in showers of sparks and blood. Screams erupted. Chaos rippled outward as the drunken horde scrambled for weapons.
"Hold the line!" Roderic thundered, shield raised. He charged first, five other shielded men slamming into position beside him. Their wall locked tight, iron rim to iron rim. Demir sprinted to the left flank, bracing his battered shield as the first wave of goblins crashed against them.
The impact rattled his bones. Crude axes, clubs, and spears clanged against their defense, sparks flying in the dark. Demir gritted his teeth and shoved forward, his short sword darting out from behind the shield. The blade split a goblin's throat, then withdrew just as another slammed against him.
On the right flank, Sin roared, cleaver hacking down a shrieking goblin. Timmy's spear darted past him, punching through another's gut. They moved in rhythm despite Sin's fury, Timmy steadying the strikes, Sin battering the gaps open.
Behind the wall, Marven's bow sang. Each arrow found a skull or throat, sharp twangs cutting down goblins before they reached the line. Marco and Ardrem hurled blasts of fire and crackling lightning, scything through weaklings in droves. The air stank of burnt flesh and ozone.
"Keep the wall!" Roderic shouted again, voice calm, commanding, carrying above the din.
Demir's arms burned. His shield juddered with each blow, his sword chipped and dulled against bone. Still he held, pushing goblins back step by bloody step.
For a time, it worked. Weaklings fell in heaps, their numbers thinned. Human fighters broke off from the wall to flank stragglers, cutting down goblins trying to circle. The skirmish tilted in their favor.
But then howling cut the air.
From the chief's tent came a sound that froze Demir's marrow: the howl of a beast, deep and resonant, shaking the very ground. The goblins roared in answer, parting like water as their leaders emerged.
Two elites strode forward first. Hulking brutes clad in patchwork plate, iron masks hiding snarling faces. Their axes gleamed, sharper than any crude goblin steel, clearly upgraded from sentry weapons.
And behind them, the chief himself rode into the firelight astride the silver wolf.
The beast dwarfed every creature in the camp, armored in seamless plates that shone with unnatural polish. It strained against chains, fangs bared, foam flecking its muzzle. The chief clung to its back with manic glee, a giant spear leveled in his hands.
He bellowed, words broken and jagged. "HUMAN WALL... BREAK!"
The wolf surged forward. The chief's spear slammed into the shield line.
The impact was catastrophic. Wood splintered, men toppled backward, and the wall cracked open like a split log. Roderic roared as he absorbed the brunt of the blow, his shield dented inward. Goblins poured into the gap, shrieking, clawing, driving toward the heart of the formation.
"Close! Close it!" Roderic shouted, forcing his shield up again.
Demir snarled and shoved against the tide, but already the fight had turned. The line was broken. The battle dissolved into knots of desperate struggle.
Demir, Sin, and Timmy were driven to the right by two goblin elites. The brutes swung with terrifying force, each blow hammering against shield and steel. Sparks flew as Demir blocked a downward chop, the vibration numbing his arm. He slashed back, but the blade skittered off armor as though striking stone.
"Only charged strikes worked. I know it. But here, in chaos, where every second is survival, measuring the rhythm for a charge is near impossible. I can't count like in the mines where almost all my fights were one on one," Demir thought.
"This sword is no better than Moradin's sword," he thought bitterly, parrying another swing. "I'm fighting blind."
One elite slammed his boot into Timmy's gut, then rammed the edge of his axe between the boy's legs. Timmy's scream cut short as he collapsed, clutching himself, eyes wide in agony.
"Timmy!" Sin roared. Rage flooded him. He hurled himself forward with reckless abandon, cleaver hacking wildly.
The second elite backhanded him. The strike landed like a hammer, hurling Sin to the dirt.
"Sin!" Demir's chest burned. He saw the moment, the second of exposed neck as the elite raised his axe to finish Timmy.
Demir roared and gathered every ounce of strength. His sword glowed faintly, not with magic but with sheer will as he swung in a perfectly timed charged slash. The blade bit deep into the elite's throat. Blood sprayed, hot and thick, and the brute crumpled with a crash of iron.
The world narrowed. Demir grabbed Sin by the collar and hauled him up. "You can't fight like this!" he shouted, shaking him. "Pure hatred will kill you. Do you understand? You'll burn yourself out!"
Sin's eyes blazed. "He almost killed Timmy!"
Demir forced him to look. Timmy writhed but still breathed. "Yes, but you still have him. You still have your brother. If you keep fighting like this, you'll get both of you killed. For weeks you've been drowning in rage. It has to stop."
Sin's jaw clenched, silent.
Demir's voice dropped, harsh and urgent. "Your father didn't want me to tell you this... but you have another sibling. Your mother was pregnant. She's waiting for you. Back in the real world. You have to survive, Sin. You have to return to your mother. You don't get to die here."
Before Sin could answer, the second elite lunged. Demir raised his shield to catch the blow. The impact split the rim, tearing wood and iron, but he held. His knees buckled, teeth grinding.
"Now!" he roared.
Sin surged forward. For a heartbeat, his cleaver glowed, not with system light, not with numbers or pop-ups, but with raw, burning fury refined into focus. He swung, and the strike carved clean through armor and bone.
The elite staggered, chest split wide, and collapsed in a heap.
Demir's shield arm trembled, the torn edge biting into his hand. He stared at Sin, shaken. That strike had felt like a charged blow, though no markers appeared, no system prompt glowed.
"We will tear this game open and get out. Just believe," Demir said to Sin.
Elsewhere, Roderic fought like a wall of iron. He and two shielded men pressed against the wolf's lunges, barely holding ground. Ardrem hurled arcane bolts, flames searing fur, lightning snapping against the beast's armor. Still it surged, spear thrusting again and again, forcing Roderic back inch by inch.
The commander spat blood, teeth bared. "Stand your ground!"
Demir shoved forward, hacking through another goblin, his lungs burning, arms numb. Around him, the humans fought with desperate ferocity, cutting down weaker goblins who tried to flank. The ground was slick with blood and mud, corpses piling high.
But still the goblins came.
The bonfire cast long, dancing shadows over the battlefield. Broken tents smoldered, arrows jutted from corpses, and the wolf howled again, shaking the marrow of every fighter.
At last, the chaos slowed. The horde was thinning. Bodies lay scattered, goblins shrieking their last.
And when the smoke cleared, barely twenty goblins remained, clustered tight around their chieftain.
The chief brandished his spear, voice rising above the din. He pulled the magical collar and the wolf stamped and snarled, eyes burning gold.
"HUMAN SCUM... DIE TONIGHT!"
Demir raised his battered shield, breath ragged. Beside him, Roderic tightened his grip, blood running down his arm. Around them, their small band of survivors pulled close, eyes hard despite exhaustion.
The skirmish had cost them dearly. And yet, at the heart of the camp, they still stood. Twelve against a chief, his beast, and twenty goblins who had yet to break.