Ben, the alliance leader Silas had named, stood on a high ridge overlooking the valley. He was surrounded by a small council of five other lords- two women and three men- all of them peering down at the goblin encampment.
"Damn, how many of these hideous bastards are we dealing with?" Ben grumbled. He adjusted a brass-rimmed ocular artifact, his gaze drifting from the green-skinned swarm below to the female lord standing nearby. She was dressed provocatively, wearing gear that seemed designed more for vanity than a battlefield.
A few paces back, a disciplined force of forty soldiers stood ready, their weapons gleaming in the overcast light. Suddenly, a centaur warrior galloped in from the treeline, his hooves thundering against the earth. He came to a sharp halt and offered a formal salute.
"Lord Ben, the scout report is finalized," the centaur reported. "There are roughly one hundred and twenty goblins in the hollow. The majority are common fodder, but we have identified twenty uncommon-grade warriors and two rare leaders stationed directly around the treasure."
Ben sighed, the weight of the ocular artifact in his hand feeling heavy as he scanned the valley. 'One hundred and twenty goblins. And two rare-grade champions guarding the prize,' he repeated. He turned to the other lords, his gaze sliding over the woman who called herself Elena.
''The risk is high, Ben, but so is the reward,'' one of the male lords, a man named Marcus, said as he sharpened a heavy broadsword. ''If we do not take this now, another group will. We have the numbers and the quality.''
''Elena, can your scouts keep the perimeter clear while we engage?'' Ben asked.
Elena smiled, tapping a small silver bell at her waist. ''My scouts are already in position. They will let us know if anyone, or anything, approaches our rear.''
'Idiots,' Leo thought from his vantage point a kilometer away. He was seated on Ira, the hell-horse's heat keeping the rain from soaking his coat. 'They think a perimeter of common scouts will stop a rare-grade assassin like Vespar.'
Beside him, Malphas stood like a statue of blood-stained iron. ''Shall we intervene, my Lord?'' the knight asked.
''Not yet,'' Leo replied. ''Let the vultures weaken the goblins. We will take what is left.''
Leo looked at Silas, who was tied up and shivering on the ground nearby. 'Something is wrong. Why haven't the goblins left after claiming the treasure?' he wondered. 'Usually, they would retreat to a fortified camp, not linger in the open like bait.'
Ben's alliance didn't charge blindly. They were methodical, picking off stragglers and luring scouts into the shadows to be silenced. It took several minutes before the disappearance of their kin reached the ears of the higher-ups.
''The stage is set. Are the traps active?'' Ben asked, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he watched the goblin line begin to waver.
''Of course,'' Elena replied, her eyes flashing with malice. ''The fools will be thinned out by half before they even get a chance to swing those rusted blades.''
When the goblins finally spotted the humans waiting on the ridge, the forest erupted in a cacophony of shrieks. ''Kill those ants!'' a hulking goblin leader roared, unsheathing a massive, notched greatsword from his back.
The horde charged with a reckless, bloodthirsty frenzy. But as the first wave reached a designated point just meters from Ben's position, his smirk widened. The ground gave way with a sickening crack, revealing a massive, concealed pit lined with sharpened stakes.
RUMBLE
A trench ten meters wide swallowed the vanguard of the goblin horde in a single breath. The sounds of breaking bone and wet thuds echoed through the valley as the creatures were skewered on the stakes below. It was a calculated meat grinder.
''Archers! Fire!'' Ben shouted, pointing his sword at the struggling mess in the pit.
A rain of arrows came down from the alliance's soldiers, hitting the goblins who were trying to climb out of the hole. Elena laughed as she watched the slaughter. ''It is like shooting fish in a barrel,'' she said, her eyes fixed on the chaos.
On the ridge, Leo watched the scene with a frown. 'Too easy,' he thought. 'They are not retreating. Even with half their numbers gone, they are standing their ground.'
The goblin leader with the greatsword did not flinch. He let out a low, guttural growl that silenced the screams of the remaining horde. He pointed his massive blade toward the pit. The twenty uncommon warriors, larger and more muscular than the rest, moved with a discipline that was uncharacteristic of their race. They carried heavy iron plates, likely salvaged from the ruins of other territories.
They slammed the plates over the pit, creating a bridge made of metal and bone.
Suddenly, the second rare leader, a shaman draped in raven feathers and charms, stepped into the light. He slammed his staff into the earth, and the very air around the alliance's ridge began to vibrate with a sickly frequency.
''Ben, something is wrong!'' Marcus shouted, stepping back as the ground beneath them began to glow with a necrotic green light.
A pillar of dark energy erupted from beneath the alliance's archers, turning them into dust instantly. The smell of ozone and burnt flesh filled the air.
''Focus on the shaman!'' Ben screamed, the arrogance finally leaving his voice as the real battle began.
Malphas narrowed his eyes, his voice a low growl of warning. ''Lord, these are not mere goblins. Something or someone is masking their very essence.''
Leo watched as the slaughter, which should have been a simple exercise in power, shifted violently toward the horde. The two rare leaders were performing far beyond the limits of their rank. The shaman, in particular, was weaving a unique spell; for every goblin that fell in the mud, twice as many of Ben's soldiers withered into gray dust. It was a life-exchange talent of terrifying proportions.
Marcus barely parried a crushing blow from the goblin leader's greatsword. ''Ben, these aren't just fucking goblins! We have to retreat!''
''Dammit!'' Ben snarled, his arrogance vanishing as he watched his men disintegrate. ''Retreat! Now!'' He grabbed Elena, signaling the remnants of his alliance to flee into the treeline.
''The shaman isn't just a caster; he's using a specialized talent,'' Leo observed grimly. He felt a rare surge of irritation, realizing he had underestimated the encounter just as the alliance had. He had seen a rare shaman and expected a rare shaman's limits. ''Move,'' Leo commanded, intending to capitalize on the frantic retreat.
But before he could descend from the ridge, a wall of pressurized blood erupted in front of him, catching a golden arrow mid-flight. The projectile hissed with holy energy as it was neutralized.
BOOM!
''What?'' Leo recoiled, his gaze snapping to Malphas. The knight was staring at a towering oak in the distance, his aura radiating a murderous heat.
From the high branches, a voice rang out - calm, serene, and dangerously playful. ''Do not stop now. Continue the show, just as you have so far.''
The leaves of the ancient oak parted as a woman stepped onto a thick branch. She was a High Elf, her stature tall, and her movements so graceful that the branch did not even sway. Her hair was a cascading waterfall of liquid gold that reached her waist, and her emerald eyes held a sharp, mocking light. She was dressed in light, intricate armor made of green scales and white wood, and in her hand, she held an ivory longbow that pulsed with a faint, golden glow.
But it was her companion who made Leo's blood run cold. Hoisting herself in the air with majestic, white-feathered wings, the Epic-grade warrior looked like a goddess of war descended from a higher plane. Her Divine Silver armor was seamless, covering her from her throat to her armored boots.
Her face was hidden behind a winged visor, but the celestial light pouring from her eyes was visible even through the slits. She gripped a spear forged from a single piece of sun-tempered gold, its tip vibrating with the hum of high-frequency lightning.
The High Elf tilted her head, her gaze landing on Leo. ''A human with a blood-stained knight and a shadow that smells of the abyss,'' she said, her voice like a melodic bell. ''You are far more interesting than those bickering lords in the valley.''
The golden aura from the winged warrior and the blood aura from Malphas clashed as the air between them grew thick with tension, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.