It had been three days since the goblins' counterattack—three days since the forest campaign had turned into something far worse than anyone in High Command had anticipated. What was meant to be a decisive clearing operation had instead crippled one hundred legions, leaving them effectively out of fighting condition. For every legion of one million soldiers that had entered the forest, barely forty thousand had emerged. The scale of the losses was staggering, far beyond even the most pessimistic projections. It wasn't just a defeat—it was a revelation, one that cast a long, ominous shadow over the future of the war.
Understandably, High Command had grown deeply apprehensive, and no one felt that pressure more than Herman. Seated behind his desk, he leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers hidden somewhere beyond it. "I discussed it with the think tank," he said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of reluctant acceptance. "We couldn't find any viable solution… other than a full-scale assault. We have to cut off their portal." His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest as he continued. "We counted roughly one hundred million armored goblins in the forest alone. That means there are potentially another nine hundred million beyond that—waiting." He exhaled quietly. "And with our current combat record? Two armored goblins for every one elite human soldier…" He shook his head. "That ratio is not sustainable." Turning his gaze slightly, he looked toward the man standing nearby. "Do you have anything better, Rian?"
Rian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward and placed a report on the desk, his expression just as grim. "No," he admitted. "We don't have the luxury of alternatives. We can't outkill them, and if we don't cut off their source…" He hesitated briefly before continuing. "I've also consulted with the scientific teams. It's been confirmed—reproduction is possible here." That alone was enough to make Herman's stomach sink, but Rian wasn't finished. "We don't know how long goblins take to mature, so I used comparative models based on popular media and speculative biology. If even a fraction of those assumptions are correct…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
Herman reached for the report despite clearly not wanting to, his eyes scanning the pages. With each line he read, the color drained further from his face until it was as pale as milk. "…That's bad," he muttered under his breath. For a moment, silence filled the room before he set the report down with a heavy sigh. "I heard Marshal Xian Mu called for a meeting," he said, shifting topics with forced composure. "All top generals." "Yes," Rian replied. "Three hours from now. Same room as always." Herman nodded slowly before pushing himself to his feet. "Good. Then let's eat first," he said, a faint, almost forced grin appearing on his face. "Might as well listen to everyone's ideas on a full stomach. We'll need to end this quickly… or we're finished."
The grand strategy room was already filled by the time Herman arrived. Generals from across the world—representing different nations, alliances, and even religions—sat in tense silence, their expressions uniformly grim. Even those whose forces hadn't participated in the forest campaign had read the reports. They understood what those numbers meant. The room carried an unspoken agreement: this was no longer a war of advantage—it was a war for survival. At the center of it all stood Marshal Xian Mu, his gaze sweeping across the gathered leaders. "Everyone here has seen the reports," he began, his tone calm but unyielding. "So I'll skip unnecessary formalities. The question is not whether we commit…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "…but how much we are willing to commit."
Before anyone else could respond, Herman raised his hand. Xian Mu nodded toward him. "Marshal Herman. What does the EU propose?" Herman stood, adjusting his uniform slightly before speaking. "I had my aides calculate the maximum number of troops we could mobilize globally without collapsing our logistical systems," he said. "And when I say maximum, I mean cutting everything down to the absolute essentials. Civilian production was reduced to the bare minimum. Rations simplified—no more preserved goods, only nutrient blocks." A few generals shifted uncomfortably at that. "Under those conditions," Herman continued, "we can assemble approximately two billion additional troops." The room erupted into noise almost immediately—protests, disbelief, outrage. Herman raised his voice slightly to continue. "They should be deployed immediately. Trained during transport and used as reserve forces to reinforce damaged legions."
"Enough!" The single word cut through the chaos like a blade. All eyes turned toward Marshal Slobozhanin, who stood with an expression of barely restrained frustration. "Do any of you have a better solution?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Or would you prefer we argue while we march toward slavery?" The room fell silent. "I agree with Herman," he continued, his tone hard. "We need overwhelming force, and we need it now. Have you forgotten what the goblins did to the hills? That was in a single month. If we give them time to fortify, we lose our only advantage." He glanced around the room. "We cannot afford hesitation."
Herman nodded, signaling his aides. "If that's not enough to convince you," he said, "we've prepared a report." Papers were distributed quickly, and as the generals read, the reaction was immediate and uniform. Faces paled. Hands tightened. The room seemed to grow colder. "The first half contains confirmed data," Herman explained. "The second… is theoretical. But even as a possibility, it carries too much risk to ignore." When the last of them finished reading, the silence that followed was heavier than before. Xian Mu exhaled slowly. "A troubling theory," he admitted. "But one we cannot dismiss." He straightened slightly. "We'll put it to a vote." The decision passed with little resistance. "Then it's settled," he continued. "Now we discuss execution. How do we convince our governments? And more importantly—how do we destroy the portals?" Hands rose across the room as strategies began to form, each one carrying the weight of desperation.
While the world's leaders debated the fate of humanity, far from the tension and strategy, Arin finally returned to his family. The moment he stepped into the clearing, a voice called out to him. "There you are! What took you so long?" Bertho approached with a wide grin, clearly relieved. "Don't tell me the bounty on those mages got you that excited." Arin raised an eyebrow slightly, a faint smirk forming. "So you know about the points?" he replied. "I figured people would keep that to themselves." Bertho laughed lightly. "We found out the same way you did—by killing them. Honestly, we probably wiped out at least half of the mages in this section of the forest." He crossed his arms, still smiling. "Though what surprised me more was that they wanted the bodies for research. Paid us extra points for them, too." Arin blinked. "That's… unexpected," he admitted. "Didn't think they had that kind of surplus."
"Neither did we," Bertho said. "Especially with how slow they usually process rewards." Arin nodded slightly before his expression softened. "More importantly… is everyone okay?" There was a hint of concern in his voice now, one he didn't bother to hide. Bertho's expression shifted as well, becoming more serious. "We're fine," he assured him. "We stayed in the trees once things went bad. Even when defenses collapsed, we avoided direct engagement." He paused briefly. "We were more worried about you. Everyone else made it back yesterday." Arin let out a quiet breath of relief. "Good," he said simply. Then, after a moment, his tone changed again—more focused, more serious. "I need to call a family council." Bertho blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "A council? That serious?" he asked. He had more questions, but they died in his throat the moment he saw Arin's expression. This wasn't casual. This wasn't optional. "…Alright," he said after a moment. "I'll gather everyone." Then, with a small grin returning, he added, "Better make it quick, though. Those grey slabs they're feeding us? I'm not sure they qualify as food." Arin huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah… I noticed," he replied.