Satou moved quickly, his mind already working through the plan step by step. The group of goblins followed behind him — some limping, others being supported by their comrades. The sounds of battle echoed through the cave, growing closer with each passing second.
"How many fighters do we have?" Satou asked without looking back.
A gruff voice answered. The scarred goblin with the chipped tusk. "About thirty fighters who can still move properly. The rest are wounded or too weak."
Satou's eyes swept the group as they walked. He could see the spread — warriors with crude axes and swords, scouts with bows, shamans clutching gnarled staffs, a few larger goblins built like they could absorb punishment. Most showed signs of injury but they were still on their feet.
'Thirty fighters. Around fifty total. Against trained soldiers and mages.'
The odds were still terrible. But at least they had numbers.
"What's your name?" Satou asked the scarred goblin.
"Gob," the goblin grunted.
Satou blinked. Then let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gob. As in goblin. Very original."
Gob's eye twitched. "You got a problem with my name, whelp?"
"Not at all. It suits you," Satou said, waving a hand. "Gob — gather the fighters. All of them. We need to talk strategy before we split up."
Gob raised an eyebrow. "Strategy? You?"
"Yes, me," Satou said flatly. "Unless you'd rather keep throwing bodies at trained soldiers and hoping for the best."
Gob stared at him for a long moment. Then grunted. "Fine. But this better actually be something."
He turned and barked at the group. "All fighters, over here! The whelp's talking!"
The thirty combat-capable goblins gathered around Satou, their expressions running from skeptical to openly hostile. Some muttered under their breath. Others simply glared.
Satou took a breath and raised his voice. "I know most of you don't trust me. Honestly, I wouldn't either. But right now we're all dead if we don't work together — so set it aside and listen."
"Get to the point," one goblin growled.
"The point," Satou said, his voice sharpening, "is that the humans expect us to be stupid. They think goblins are mindless savages who charge in screaming and die. So that's exactly what we're not going to do."
Several goblins exchanged glances.
"We use tactics," Satou continued. "Ambushes. Hit-and-run. We make them fight on our terms instead of theirs."
A lean goblin scout spoke up. "Tactics? We're not an army."
"No," Satou said. "We're desperate survivors with nothing to lose. That makes us dangerous if we're smart about it." He pointed at Gob. "Gob — you lead the first ambush squad. Ten warriors. Mix of heavy hitters and fast strikers."
Gob crossed his arms. "And what does this ambush look like?"
Satou crouched and began drawing in the dirt with a sharp stone. "The main tunnel has a junction ahead — three paths converging at one point. You hide your squad in the two side tunnels. When the humans enter the junction, let them reach the center. Then hit from both sides at the same time."
"Both sides?" Gob repeated.
"Five on the left, five on the right. Their shields are built for frontal attacks, not flanking. They'll have no clean defense against it. Target the mages first — they're the most dangerous and the least protected. Once the mages are down, isolate and overwhelm individual soldiers. Don't let them regroup."
A bulky goblin warrior frowned. "What if they don't walk into it?"
"They will," Satou said. "They're overconfident. They think we're just running scared — and we are — but they won't expect organized resistance. That gap is what we're using."
He stood and pointed at three scouts. "You three — find high ground. Ledges, cracks, anything you can reach. Covering fire only. Aim for exposed areas — necks, joints, visors. Anywhere the armor doesn't cover."
The scouts nodded slowly.
Satou turned to the shamans. "Stay behind the warriors at all times. No flashy spells — you'll drain yourselves and give away your position. Focus on support. Slow their movement, disrupt their formations, heal critical injuries if you have the mana for it."
The old shaman with the twisted staff spoke up. "And what will you be doing, young one?"
"I'll be with Gob's squad at the junction," Satou said. "I have a ranged attack that can interrupt spellcasting. My first priority is taking out their mages before they can fire off anything that wipes us all at once." He glanced at his hands briefly, feeling the mana still slowly rebuilding in his system. It wasn't full — not even close — but it was enough for a few shots. He'd have to make each one count. "I won't have many shots. So I need the ambush to land clean."
Gob grunted. "And if the plan falls apart?"
"We improvise," Satou said. "But at least we start with something."
Silence stretched through the group. Then, grudgingly, goblins began to nod — one by one, then more.
"Alright," Gob said. "We do it your way. But if we die, whelp, I'm haunting your ass."
Satou smirked. "Get in line."
He glanced back to where Jessica, Kelvin, Goblin 1, and Goblin 2 were grouped with the non-combatants near the cave wall. Jessica caught his eye and immediately looked like she was about to follow him. He held up one finger — stay — and she stopped, though her expression made clear she hated it.
'Keep them safe. Survive this. Then get everyone through that crack.'
He turned back to the tunnel.
Gob's squad moved into position.
Five goblins crouched in the left side tunnel — Gob himself, two warriors with axes, a scout with a bow, and a lean goblin with twin daggers. Five more hid in the right — a bulky goblin with a club, two spear-wielders, another scout, and a shaman clutching his staff.
Satou took a position on a small ledge overlooking the junction, Stone Spit primed and ready. He could feel the thin reserve of mana sitting at the bottom of his reserves — not enough to be reckless. Two clean shots at the mages. Maybe three if he was lucky.
He settled in and waited.
Minutes stretched. The only sounds were breathing and the distant echoes of chaos deeper in the cave.
Then — footsteps.
Heavy. Armored. Multiple sets moving with the steady rhythm of soldiers who had done this many times before.
Satou's enhanced hearing pulled apart the voices.
"Command says they're fleeing deeper in," one human said, his voice muffled by his helmet. "Typical goblin behavior. Cowards."
"Makes our job easier," another replied. "Just follow the tracks and clean them out."
"Stay sharp," a third warned. "These tunnels are tight. Good place for an ambush."
"Ambush? From goblins?" The first soldier laughed. "They're barely smarter than rats. They'll just run until we corner them."
'Keep talking,' Satou thought, his eyes narrowing. 'Keep underestimating us.'
Eight soldiers entered the junction — steel armor catching the torchlight, swords drawn and ready. Behind them walked two mages, staffs glowing faintly at the tips.
Satou's eyes locked on the mages immediately. Those two first. Nothing else mattered until those two were down.
"Clear ahead," the lead soldier called.
"Clear left and right," another confirmed.
The formation moved to the center of the junction.
Satou raised his hand, watching. Waiting. Letting them get fully in.
The last soldier crossed the threshold.
He clicked his tongue twice — the signal they'd agreed on.
Gob burst from the left tunnel, his axe swinging in a brutal arc. The blade caught the lead soldier in the gap between helmet and chest plate. Blood sprayed as the man gurgled and went down.