The rumble became a deafening din. The tide of monsters swept through the narrow gully of the ravine, a wave of gray flesh, drooling and hatred. The air became unbreathable, saturated with the smell of rot, corrupted ether, and the stunning spores of the Fongus.
The plan, or what was left of it, shattered.
On the scree at the entrance, Loïd and his team unleashed a hell. Incandescent fireballs swooped down on the horde, roasting the goblins and exploding the slimes into acid sheaves. Elara Griffin, with her elegant hands, projected sharp bursts of ice like razors that skewered the creatures. Kaito Tanaka used his magnetism to shake and disarm goblins, making them more vulnerable. It was effective, but it was like throwing stones into an ocean. For every monster slaughtered, three others took its place.
Below, the line of defense was a maelstrom of violence. Conor, anchored to the ground, his shield and Ironskin forming a rampart, took the blows of the club and the charges. Marcus, by his side, roared as he struck his stone fists, reducing the goblins to paste. But the pressure was too strong. The Slimes tried to crawl on their legs, their acid eating away at the boots and stockings of the armor. The Fongus, in the rear, were releasing their spores, and already some defenders were beginning to slow down, their movements becoming stiff.
Hakime, Arthur and Lyra were caught in the fray, forming a mobile point of resistance in the midst of the chaos.
"We can't stand it like that!" cried Arthur, using his Quickstep to escape a group of goblins who were trying to surround him. His new daggers drew silver lines in the dark, aiming at the eyes and throats. "You have to find the one who leads them!"
"Where is he?" cried Hakime, skewering a goblin who was trying to jump on Conor. He projected a blinding flash of light to disorient a group, but the effect was temporary. The mass was too large.
Lyra, perched on a small rock in the back of their group, rained deadly shards of glass. "I can't see it! The horde is too dense! He must be in the back, safe!"
Suddenly, a piercing cry rang out on their left. The line of defense had given way to one place. A defender, paralyzed by spores, had been dragged through the horde and torn apart. The monsters rushed into the breach, threatening to surround the remaining defenders.
"The breach!" cried Conor, unable to leave his position without compromising the whole front.
Hakime didn't hesitate. "Arthur, Lyra, with me! Conor, hold on!"
They rushed to the breach. Hakime used his spear with a new ferocity, his points in Strength making a difference. He no longer needed surgical precision; he swept, struck, skewered, creating a living space. Arthur became a whirlwind of blades, distracting and slashing. Lyra, from her position, focused her attacks on the area, nailing the goblins to the ground with glass projectiles.
They managed to close the gap, but the cost was high. Hakime felt his ether diminish at an alarming rate. Arthur had a deep notch in his thigh, and Lyra was pale, sweat dripping down her forehead.
As they repelled the last attackers, a different, deeper roar charged with evil authority dominated the din of battle. He did not come from the entrance, but from somewhere above the ravine.
Looking up, Hakime saw a massive figure standing out on the ridge, dominating the chaos. Bigger than an Ogre, crowned with twisted horns, his body emitted a thicker and more harmful haze than that of other monsters. His eyes shone with cruel intelligence.
"King Goblin," whispered Lyra, her glass shaking slightly in her hand. "Level 10. He doesn't fight. He leads."
The monster raised a deformed arm and pointed a scratched finger at the heart of the student defense. As a single being, the horde redoubled in intensity, rushing with a new frenzy, specifically targeting the weak points that the leader had identified.
The situation had just changed. They were no longer fighting against a blind tide, but against a directed army. And his general had just given the order to destroy them.