Doirak Ironside, also called Ironhide, was leading half of the thousand-strong force in the center. I got two hundred on the left flank, while Valeria and Vay were driving the rest on the right like there was no tomorrow!
My paws were already aching, and we still weren't even close to keeping up the pace.
We moved in an arc to bypass the White Hedgehog settlement, which was Isai's target. I personally tried to stay away from direct combat — especially since the only thing I'd ever commanded in my life was a group of trainees someone had to babysit. Yeah, great.
Riders reported that Kasho was already besieging the lair of the Stone Shield tribe in the west, and Isma's grandson was preparing for a frontal assault. As for Barga's movements — no news had reached me yet. Still, I kept pushing this bunch forward. A goblin tracker from the Venom Arrow Tribe — who had spent a long time recovering from wounds and hadn't gone east with Gyrd — guided us. A real expert.
"My lord, the path leads to a large clearing. The queen is surely hunting down weaklings and cowards fleeing the battle. It's crawling with fresh tracks!"
His voice rasped, his nose almost glued to the ground — acting more like a dog than anything else. A green one, at that.
"Keep the units ready. We're to support Kasho. Send twenty riders to secure the area north of the clearing. The rest will assist the queen in skirmishes with Gray bands!"
Alright… so far, it wasn't going too badly. We captured ten Grays, including two adult males. One was level 27, the other 32. Considering they had no weapons and looked miserable, among goblins they'd already have the potential to become elite hobgoblins…
The night was windy. Cold drifted in from the north between the trees. Leaves rustled, and older trees creaked under the pressure of the wind.
Something felt off.
From afar, I could hear the sounds of battle… no, more like skirmishes. On the clearing, a dozen not-so-weak reddish auras of fury clashed with the green auras of hundreds of goblins. Well, on foot there's no escaping wolves — and poisoned arrows and javelins do their job.
It all felt like we were on some kind of expedition in a video game. Who would've thought that not long ago we were on the verge of dying, and now we were making such bold moves?
Maybe those villages weren't part of the Gray Alliance — at least according to the spies — but was it really supposed to go this smoothly?
I once heard a phrase: don't be afraid when things go badly — be afraid when things go well, because that means something's about to go to hell.
In life, that seemed to hold true.
That's why my breathing was heavy, and I thought over every word several times before speaking…
"Great Artax! Bad news! Our scouts report strong Gray forces approaching from the north! They're moving fast — in large numbers! From the north!"
Oh, for fuck's sake! I knew it! I fucking knew something would happen. And of course it had to be now, right when that damn vampiress decided I should take part and set an example for the greens!
What do I do!? Think! Think, Oskar, think!
"Fall back into the trees! Send riders to Kasho in the southwest! Someone notify Doirak and the Queen — we need support! Now!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Steady! Hold your lines! Let them come deeper into the glade! Our arrows won't reach them yet. The left is secure! Kasho will be here soon!"
Dear God… real life isn't some damn game. We barely had a few banners and old horns — no radios, no phones. Who knows what'll happen or if they'll even make it in time!?
For now, all I could do was make sure this rabble didn't panic and scatter.
Moments later, one aura after another began appearing beyond the clearing. It stretched maybe half a kilometer long and four times that wide — at least according to the tracker, who knew this land from the days he hunted on Gray territory.
How did they know!?
There's no way those three settlements could've prepared forces this large! I'd understand five hundred warriors combined — but I could clearly sense at least two thousand auras approaching from the north and northeast!
Before we fully took positions, I saw dozens of Gray warriors in the distance — shields, axes, torches — moving in formation.
Orcs!?
This was supposed to be a bloodthirsty band of berserkers — not an organized army! What the hell is going on!?
"Fire!" I ordered.
Dozens of arrows flew toward the enemy, but struck their shields or missed entirely.
"Fire at will!" I repeated.
A wolf rider approached from the east, a red hand symbol on his tunic. From the center.
Finally! Reinforcements!
"Great Devourer! General Doirak requests support! The orc army struck us with great force! The battle is ongoing!" he shouted from afar, spitting blood. Arrows were lodged in his back.
What the hell!? How is that even possible!? How am I supposed to help them!?
Wait — Vay! With him, we can win. And Isai and Kasho should arrive soon. We have a chance! We'll make it out alive!
The orcs stopped before us and formed a shield wall. Horns echoed. Gray banners flapped in the torchlight.
A problematic force.
Each of them was at least level 25, and one giant with a massive shield was stronger than Banyak — level 51!
Threat level: very high.
Beyond my capabilities.
We stood in a standoff, waiting to see which side would attack first. They hesitated — likely unsure of our numbers. We, on the other hand, knew that if we stepped out onto the open field, we'd be crushed.
I might take down two or three myself.
But not five hundred.
"My lord! A hawk with a message from the Queen! More Gray forces are approaching from the east and southeast! Several hundred orcs have moved between Barga and the Queen! More are coming from the northeast! We are to hold position and wait for Kasho!" the tracker rasped, adjusting the knife at his belt.
The situation was becoming more disastrous by the second, and staying put wasn't helping.
I had goblin elites with me — every fifth one was a hobgoblin, meaning level 25 or higher. At least we wouldn't get completely slaughtered if they charged… Probably.
If they knew there were only two hundred of us and they had more than double that — they'd have attacked already.
I got lucky.
I decided not to sit here like a fork stuck in manure. I took thirty hobgoblins on foot and, staying within the tree line, moved toward Doirak. The tracker Gyrd took command of the main force while I organized the detachment.
Twenty shield-bearers and ten berserkers.
Old goblins, scarred, muscular — killers and veterans of Valar.
"Forward! With me, children of Zod! The Sword God will give us strength!"
I called out, and they answered with a roar worthy of the Green Army's elite.
I survived that damn dragoness — I'll survive this mess too… I'm like a damn cockroach. You can stomp me, burn me, and I'll still live.
Not that I like it.
Then — a terrible noise erupted from the south, from the dense thicket that now seemed far more ominous.
Did those bastards launch a surprise attack!?
Where are my scouts!? Where are the signals!?
Oh no…
"Artax! Artax! Run east! We've been betrayed! Betrayed!"
I knew that voice.
Mago — Kasho's observer and friend of mine.
What happened!?
Moments later, it became clear. He rode toward us on a wolf with a dozen badly wounded greens. His face was torn, arrows stuck in his body. His wolf barely held together and collapsed as they reached us — like some mythical marathon hero falling after completing his mission.
"Kasho! That bastard! He attacked us by surprise! The eastern goblins are on the orcs' side! The Queen must learn of this betrayal!"
Soon, the familiar horn of the Red Serpents sounded. Dozens of footsteps approached from the southwest — and with them, most likely, the orc garrison of the Stone Shield settlement.
From the north — one force.
From the east — more.
We were finished.
"ARGHH!!! ATTACK!!!"
A Gray with a massive shield roared, and hundreds of infantry surged forward across the clearing like wild beasts.
Only one option remained.
"Retreat! Run east if you value your lives! Follow me, children of Zod!"
And I ran first.
Like a captain unworthy of his post abandoning a sinking ship.
Damn it… I'm ashamed.
I didn't even realize when I started trampling through bushes and shrubs, spitting curses and roaring from the depths of my lungs.
"Follow the Great Devourer! Don't lose heart! The Sword God watches!" Mago shouted. He turned and cut off the head of a goblin with a snake painted on his forehead — but a rider's spear pierced his chest.
Kasho, riding a wounded wolf in a spiked breastplate, smiled darkly — then spat on poor Mago…
"Kill them all! Down with the servants of the cold-blooded!"
I'll never forgive myself.
Poor Mago…
Overwhelmed. Trapped. Massacred.
As I ran through the trees, I could think of only one thing — revenge on that smiling bastard… Kasho, the orcs' lapdog.
To avenge Mago.
I swore to myself I would slaughter that vile tribe.