The moment the goblin mage fell, something shifted across the battlefield. Arin felt it before he fully understood what had happened. The faint crimson haze that had driven the goblins into madness flickered violently, as if struggling to hold itself together, before shattering completely. What followed was not relief, but recoil. The spell did not simply vanish—it snapped back. The goblins who had been under its influence staggered as the backlash tore through them. Their bodies, already pushed beyond their limits, could not endure the sudden reversal. Those who had been wounded collapsed instantly, their forms convulsing for a brief moment before going still. Others dropped their weapons, their strength draining away as confusion replaced the berserk fury that had once driven them forward.
Only a few seconds passed before a sharp horn echoed across the battlefield. The signal was unmistakable—the order to attack. The human forces, battered but still standing, surged forward to capitalize on the sudden collapse of enemy resistance. What had once been an overwhelming tide of armored goblins was now little more than scattered remnants, disorganized and weakened. The balance of the battle had shifted completely.
Arin, however, did not move with them. Instead, he leaned back against the trunk of his tree, letting out a long breath as the tension finally left his body. "I'm taking a rest," he muttered quietly to himself. The adrenaline that had sustained him throughout the fight began to fade, leaving behind a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. His limbs felt heavy, and his breathing slowed as he allowed himself a brief moment of stillness.
As his body cooled down, the discomfort began to set in. His clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to his skin as the breeze brushed against him. A chill crept through him, making him shiver slightly. "Yeah… I'm definitely getting a cold after this," he thought with a tired grimace. Now that the battle was effectively decided, the reality of what he had just endured began to sink in.
Looking down at the battlefield, Arin watched as the remaining goblins attempted to flee. It was a futile effort. The human soldiers did not give chase as a unified force—instead, they broke formation and engaged the enemy in direct combat. One-on-one fights replaced structured lines, and in those encounters, the outcome was almost always the same. The goblins, weakened and disoriented, stood little chance against experienced veterans. Unless luck intervened, they were cut down quickly and efficiently. But luck was rare on a battlefield like this, especially against soldiers who had survived long enough to become hardened by countless fights.
Still, Arin found his thoughts drifting elsewhere. "These things aren't even edible," he muttered, glancing at the goblin corpses scattered across the ground, which only made the situation more frustrating. "I can't wait until they figure out how to grow proper mana-infused crops," he continued inwardly. The rations they currently relied on were barely tolerable, little more than bland sustenance meant to keep them alive. Something better had to come eventually.
After resting for a short while, Arin pushed himself off the tree and began climbing down. "Let's see what the captain wants," he said quietly. His movements were steady, though slower than before, as fatigue still lingered in his body. Once on the ground, he made his way toward the command area, stepping carefully over the uneven terrain.
The closer he got, the more apparent the scale of the battle became. Bodies were piled high against the trees, forming grotesque barriers that prevented them from rolling further down the hill. At the base, the accumulation had created something resembling a dam, easily several meters high. The sheer number of corpses was staggering. Arin paused briefly, taking in the scene with a neutral expression. If he had to estimate, hundreds of thousands of goblins had died here. It was less a battlefield and more a slaughterhouse.
Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath him. "Whoa—!" Arin reacted instantly, ducking to the side as a section of bodies collapsed and slid downward. The small avalanche passed just behind him, carrying debris and corpses down the slope. He steadied himself and let out a quiet breath. "That's dangerous," he muttered, now moving with greater caution.
It didn't take long to spot the command group. A man wearing a blue armband stood among them, issuing instructions to the remaining soldiers. The marking made his rank immediately clear, even to those unfamiliar with formal military insignia. Arin approached him without hesitation.
"Captain," he said, stopping a short distance away. "Do you need anything from me, or are there not enough survivors left to organize anything meaningful?" His gaze swept briefly across the area. "I don't recognize many faces anymore."
The captain turned toward him, studying him for a moment before nodding slightly. "So you must be Arin," he said. "My name is Yoshikazu. Nice to meet you—and thank you. For taking out the mage." His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued, "I assume that was you. You seem to be the only archer left alive in this sector."
Arin shrugged lightly. "Yeah, that was probably me. Hard to miss—he looked ridiculous trying to wear our clothes." A faint hint of amusement crossed his face. "Didn't suit him."
Yoshikazu allowed himself a brief, tired smile before his expression grew serious again. "As for orders, I can't give any right now. We're still trying to assess the situation," he said, gesturing toward the battlefield. "But we'll likely regroup within the hour. Legion command should send a signal soon."
He paused before adding, "Until then, I'd appreciate it if you could help recover the fallen. We can't leave them like this."
Arin nodded without hesitation. "No problem. I'll help." Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Though I am curious how many units actually survived. That resistance was heavier than expected."
"You're not wrong," Yoshikazu replied. He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "Actually… could you take over as a scout? My scout didn't make it, and we need someone to keep watch."
"Much better than stripping corpses," Arin said with a short laugh. He gave a half-hearted salute before turning away, already moving toward the nearest tree.
Within moments, he was climbing again, disappearing into the canopy with practiced ease. When he reached the top of the tallest tree on the hill, the wind greeted him strongly, swaying the branches beneath his feet. From that vantage point, the forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a vast expanse of green broken only by the scars of battle.
At first glance, it almost looked peaceful.
Then he saw the smoke.
Thin plumes of black smoke began rising from various points within the forest. One appeared, then another, followed by several more. Arin's expression darkened as he counted them. Each plume represented a captain signaling total collapse—a final message indicating that their position had fallen beyond recovery.
"…That's not good," he muttered.
As time passed, more plumes appeared. Within the hour, there were at least thirty visible columns of smoke. And that was only what he could see from his position. There were likely more, hidden beyond his line of sight.
Then something else caught his attention. A plume of a different color rose in the distance—bright purple, unmistakable even from afar. Arin narrowed his eyes slightly. "There you are," he said quietly. It was roughly ten kilometers to the left, slightly behind their current position. Legion command.
Without wasting any time, Arin descended from the tree and returned to the command area. Yoshikazu was still attempting to organize the survivors, though it was clearly a difficult task. Too many officers had fallen, and too many units had been broken apart. In truth, counting the survivors was easier—there were far fewer of them.
When Yoshikazu saw Arin approaching, he straightened slightly. "I hope you have better news than what I'm seeing," he said, his tone strained. "Because this is not looking good."
Arin shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I counted at least thirty black smoke signals—that's just what I could see." He paused briefly before continuing, "As for the legion commanders, they're about ten kilometers to our left, toward the center of the forest."
A brief silence followed before Yoshikazu nodded slowly. "I see," he said quietly. Disappointment flickered across his face, though it was not entirely unexpected. "We're not in good shape either. Let's move toward the rendezvous point and regroup."
His gaze shifted toward the remaining soldiers. "…If there's anything left to regroup."