The goblin horde was a chaotic tide of snarling dire wolves and jagged steel. At the center of the storm rode a hobgoblin whose presence was far more disciplined than the rest. His hair was tied back in a tight knot, and his leather armor bore the scars of a dozen campaigns. He didn't carry the clumsy swords of his kin; instead, a long, silver-tipped spear was secured to his back.
''Full speed! Break their spirit at the gate!'' the commander shouted.
The cavalry's response was a guttural roar that vibrated in the chests of those standing on the walls.
As the range closed, the undead archers released their draw. The bone arrows whistled a funeral dirge as they descended. The commander's smirk was wide and predatory. He unsheathed his spear in a blur of movement, leveling the point at the incoming volley. ''Echo Counter!''
A ripple of distorted mana erupted from the spear's tip. The arrows halted mid-air, trembling for a split second before hurtling back toward Leo at a lethal velocity.
'An interesting skill,' Leo thought, his expression remaining cold.
Verdict stepped forward, her gloved hand cutting through the air in a downward arc. ''Fall.''
The command was absolute. The gravity around the arrows seemed to multiply a hundredfold, slamming them into the walkway with enough force to shatter the bone shafts into dust.
The commander's smirk twitched into a nervous grin. ''A suicide mission, then. Very well.'' He hoisted his spear until it caught the dim light of the Origin. ''Who are we?''
''Grim Riders!'' the riders screamed, the name a vow of blood.
''Then we die as warriors! Charge! We are but the first of many!''
"Master… shall I erase them?" Verdict asked softly, her gaze fixed on the approaching raid—nothing more than trash awaiting judgment.
''No, let the infantry deal with them. I want to see how they hold up,'' Leo commanded. He didn't wait for the riders to reach the gates. Raising his hand, a faint crimson glow bled from his fingertips as he signaled the archers. ''Ignore the riders. Gut the wolves. If they wish to die as warriors, let them walk the final distance on their own two feet.''
The archers shifted in eerie, mechanical unison. There was no breath to catch, no pulse to steady. They calculated the arc of the charging beasts and loosed their string. A concentrated rain of bone hissed through the air, seeking the soft throats and unprotected underbellies of the mounts. The effect was instantaneous. The dire wolves shrieked as they were nailed to the earth, their forward momentum transforming the proud charge into a grisly heap of shattered bone and howling goblins.
The hobgoblin commander swatted away the arrows aimed at his own mount with a casual flick of his spear. His eyes were dark and unreadable as he stared up at Leo. ''Not so easy, invader,'' he murmured with a cold smile.
The ground around him was a slaughterhouse of twitching beasts and trapped soldiers. Yet the discipline of the Grimtooth Clan remained unshaken. Those who survived the pile-up scrambled to their feet, dragging jagged steel from their sheaths with a defiant hiss.
''You truly believe a few splinters of bone will halt the Reckoning?'' the commander chuckled. He twirled his spear in a glittering circle before leveling it at the ramparts. ''Stop cowering behind your stone skirts and face us like a true warrior!''
'What is his endgame?' Leo mused. He pushed his gaze beyond the immediate carnage. His Crimson Perception pulsed. Through the haze of dust and blood, he spotted a shadow—a lone assassin draped in midnight silk, perched silently among the branches of a distant tree. 'A scout? Or is this entire charge just a distraction?'
''Malphas, hold your position. Let the Captain lead the vanguard. Execute anyone foolish enough to draw breath in our presence,'' Leo ordered.
The heavy gates groaned open, vomiting a tide of darkness into the valley. Malphas remained in the shadow of the threshold while the Death Knights marched out in a wall of obsidian steel. Behind them, the Boar-kin and Pig-kin scrambled, their eyes gleaming with the greedy hunger for easy experience points.
The hobgoblin commander's confident mask remained intact as the undead approached. However, when he saw the Boar-kin and the mutated Pig-kin, his lips began to twitch. The disbelief among the Grimtooth ranks reached a breaking point when a massive, red-skinned goblin stepped into the light. He was a mountain of raw, bulging muscle, naked from the waist up, with a heavy war-hammer resting effortlessly against his shoulder.
A ripple of shock went through the native ranks. ''A mutated champion? Standing with the invaders?''
The commander's face turned a shade of bruised purple. He shot a subtle, sharp nod toward the treeline before raising his spear once more. ''Charge! It matters not who stands against us! Tear the invaders apart!''
The ranks of the undead parted like a dark curtain as the Captain stepped into the clearing. He planted his war-hammer into the earth with a bone-jarring thud. ''Weaklings,'' he rumbled, the word vibrating in the air.
The insult was the final spark. The goblin front line surged in a desperate wave, a dozen warriors lunging at the red giant with jagged steel.
''For the Lord!'' the Captain bellowed, his voice a physical force that rattled the stones of the stronghold.
He swung the hammer in a catastrophic arc.
KRAK.
The impact was more than a strike; it was an atmospheric rupture. The front rank of the goblin horde simply ceased to exist as a cohesive unit, their bodies pulverized and sent hurtling back into their own ranks. The kinetic energy turned the dead into projectiles, crushing those behind them in a messy spray of green blood and broken armor.
The Death Knights moved in the wake of the carnage. Operating with the cold efficiency of a hive mind, they blurred into the goblin ranks. Their longswords parried and thrust in a rhythmic dance of death, carving through the survivors. Behind the wall of obsidian steel, the lesser undead swarmed, their rusted blades finding the gaps in the goblins' leather protection and gutting them where they stood.
The Boar-kin fought with a primal, mocking cruelty. Their laughter was a harsh bark that rose above the screams of the dying. ''Haha! Die, you green filth!'' one shouted, burying a hatchet in a goblin's skull.
However, the tide turned when the goblin commander moved. He was a streak of lethal discipline amidst the chaos. With a series of precise thrusts, his spear found the glowing cores of two Death Knights, reducing the elite soldiers to heaps of lifeless bone. He carved a path through the fray, his eyes locked on the Boar-kin. His spear whistled through the air toward a Boar-kin's throat. The creature managed to parry with its heavy axe, but the commander's momentum was overwhelming, sending the Boar-kin tumbling back into the dust.
''Cat got your tongue, pig?'' the commander sneered, his eyes cold.
He lunged to finish the kill, but the Captain intercepted him like a falling mountain. The giant goblin lunged forward, his hammer wreathed in a sinister crimson light. ''Savage Cleave!''
''Fool,'' the commander hissed, his posture shifting in a heartbeat. ''Echo Counter!''
The hammer struck an invisible, resonant barrier. The Captain's eyes widened as his own overwhelming strength was reflected back into his frame. The skill backfired with a sickening thud, the impact rippling through the Captain's muscular chest and forcing him back a step.
Seizing the opening, the commander's spear flashed downward, burying itself deep in the chest of the fallen Boar-kin. ''GUHHH!'' The warrior coughed a spray of dark blood, his body twitching once before the light faded from his eyes.
Leo watched the scene from the battlements, his expression unreadable, though his eyes narrowed at the commander's technique. Below, the sight of their fallen kin ignited a primal frenzy in the remaining Boar-kin. They ignored the common goblins entirely, turning as one to let out a roar of absolute fury that drowned out the sounds of the battlefield.
'A redirection skill,' Leo thought, his fingers tapping against the stone. 'Useful. But it has a limit.'