Bhel kept his promise. He hadn’t charged past Josh, no matter how much the battle’s rhythm begged him to. He stood firm behind the cart, a rock in a river of snarling green flesh. The goblins came at him in waves, screeching and scrambling through the mud, and Bhel met them all with steel and hate.

  The first one to try its luck darted low, jagged blade flashing. Bhel dropped his weight and swung the axe in a tight, savage arc. The impact cracked through the creature’s skull with a noise like a melon bursting. Bone fragments sprayed across the side of the cart. The goblin dropped, twitching, its blood steaming as it hit the iron of Bhel’s greaves.

  Another rushed him before he could fully reset. It was fast, all teeth and elbows, stabbing with something that might once have been a kitchen knife. Bhel caught its arm mid-thrust and wrenched, feeling the bones grind before the joint gave. The goblin’s shriek barely left its throat before his axe came down. The edge bit deep into its chest, splitting it open from shoulder to ribs. The weight of it dragged the axe down with it as it fell, spilling black blood into the mud.

  He yanked the weapon free with a grunt and spat, his breath fogging in the cold air. Over the din of battle he could hear as two more clambered up the side of the cart, claws scratching at the wood. Bhel waited until one’s filthy fingers gripped the top rail, then brought the axe up in a brutal uppercut. The blade sheared through hand and wrist along with the handrail, sending both flying. The goblin howled and tumbled backwards into the dirt. The second one was halfway over when Bhel stepped in and swung again, splitting its face clean down the middle. It fell limp, draped over the cart’s edge like a sack of meat.

  He could hear their chittering growing louder, more were circling. Bhel tightened his grip and planted his feet. A trio burst from the side, trying to flank. The first got an axe to the jaw, half its head turned to pulp. The second rammed into him and nearly took him off balance, but Bhel’s knee came up, crunching into its gut. He shoved it back, followed with a sideways sweep that caught the third mid-stride. The edge of the blade took the goblin’s legs out from under it, leaving it screaming in the mud. Bhel ended the noise with a downward chop, splitting its skull like firewood.

  The stench of blood, bile, and the acrid stink of goblin sweat was everywhere now. The ground around the cart had turned into a pit of filth and corpses. Every time one tried to climb over, it ended the same: a wet crunch, a shriek cut short, another broken body sliding into the heap.

  Bhel’s arms burned, but he didn’t stop. Each swing came heavier, slower, but still true. He worked by instinct now, dodge, step, swing, crush. When one managed to leap over the cart, Bhel caught it mid-air, drove the axe straight up beneath its chin, and flung the limp body off to the side.

  By the time he paused, just long enough to suck in a breath, there were at least a dozen bodies around him, broken, bloodied, some still twitching. He adjusted his grip, wiped a smear of gore from his beard with the back of his wrist, and growled under his breath.

  “Come on then, you little bastards,” he muttered. “Let’s see who’s left.”

  The next scream came almost immediately.

  —

  Brett watched from the tree line as Josh and Bhel stood firm against the relentless wave of goblins. The two of them looked like a dam holding back a flood, every impact, every scream, every clash of metal was another test of how long they could hold. Brett could feel the pressure on them even from here. The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke from the burning camp. He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t just stand there.

  Drawing a deep breath, Brett began to weave another spell, feeling the familiar burn of mana as it coiled in his chest and gathered in his palms. The energy thrummed, hungry to be released. He raised his hand high and hurled another fireball into the mob. It tore through the air with a whoosh, leaving a faint trail of heat shimmer behind it before exploding in the middle of the horde.

  The blast was deafening. The shockwave flattened several goblins outright, and the rest were thrown screaming into the mud. Fire rolled out in every direction, searing through crude armour and greasy skin. The stench of burning flesh hit Brett’s nose a second later, thick and sickly sweet.

  Josh and Bhel both flinched from the heat even from this distance. Josh raised his shield out of reflex, the front of it glowing faintly red from the intensity. His face turned away, feeling the blaze lick across his exposed skin. When he lowered the shield again, his cheeks and forearms were flushed raw. Brett winced. He’d placed it far enough to avoid maiming them, but not far enough to keep them comfortable.

  He took a shaky breath, already feeling the drag in his body. The adrenaline was still there, but underneath it, his mana reserves were thinning fast. His limbs trembled faintly, and there was a hollowness behind his eyes, the tell-tale pull of depletion.

  He fumbled for the blue-glass vial on his belt, yanked the cork out with his teeth, and downed the mana potion in one go. The liquid was thick and metallic, with a bitter aftertaste that made him gag. It burned all the way down his throat. He coughed, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then hissed through his teeth as the energy surged back through him, jagged and uneven, like being jump-started. “Definitely made from goblin ears,” he coughed.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  The relief was instant but short-lived. He could feel the smallness of it, how little he truly had to draw from. The potion refilled him, but not by much. Not enough. The realisation hit him harder than he expected. His power felt borrowed, temporary, fragile compared to the raw, physical brutality of what Josh and Bhel were doing down there.

  He steadied himself, forcing the thought away. There would be time to brood later. For now, he still had magic to give and his friends needed him.

  He began another incantation, hands glowing faintly again, firelight dancing off his determined expression.

  —

  Josh blinked through the haze, his vision swimming for a few moments after the blast. Heat still rippled in the air, the smell of scorched earth and burning hair crawling into his lungs. His exposed skin felt tight and stung with every breath, the damn fireball had left his forearms and cheek bright red, like he’d spent hours under a midsummer sun with no sun screen.

  He took a half-step back, shield raised instinctively as a goblin lunged from the smoke. Its crude blade clanged off the rim of his shield, the impact rattling his arm all the way to his shoulder. Josh twisted, driving his sword into the creature’s gut. The goblin shrieked, hot blood spilling over his hand as he yanked the weapon free.

  The others came soon after, a fresh tide of them charging through the smoke, eyes wild, skin bubbling and blistered, but weapons raised. Some were still burning patches of fire licking across their rags and skin but they didn’t seem to care. Whatever that red fog had done to them had stripped away fear, leaving nothing but rage.

  Josh gritted his teeth and set his stance. His arm ached, his lungs burned, and his shield felt heavier than it had minutes ago, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

  A goblin leapt at him, spear first. He caught the shaft on his shield and slammed forward, smashing the edge into its throat. It went down choking, gurgling as it clawed at the wound. Another came in from his right, Josh spun, parried, and drove his sword through its eye. His movements were pure instinct now: bash, twist, stab, repeat. The rhythm of survival.

  Bhel’s roar sounded from behind the cart, and Josh spared a glance long enough to see the dwarf split another goblin’s skull clean in two. The body fell across the cart, spraying dark blood across the wood. Bhel looked like something out of a nightmare, beard soaked, axe dripping, eyes locked on the next kill.

  Josh turned back just in time to catch another blow. A jagged blade scraped across his greave, sparks flashing as it skidded off the steel strips. The force made him stumble, but he caught himself, boot grinding into the dirt. He bashed the goblin down with his shield, then stomped on its chest to hold it still before driving his sword straight through its ribs. The scream was cut short, replaced by the wet crunch of breaking bone.

  He ripped the blade free and took a second to breathe, one single second. His chest heaved, sweat and blood dripping into his eyes. He could hear Perberos shouting something further out, the twang of his bowstring constant like a drumbeat.

  The goblins didn’t stop coming. The fire behind them had become a backdrop, orange and black, smoke rolling through the trees and from somewhere deeper in the camp, that same twisted cackle rang out again. It made Josh’s stomach turn. Whatever was commanding these things was still out there.

  He raised his shield again, setting his stance by the cart. “Come on then,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough. “Let’s see what you’ve got left.”

  And as another wave of goblins surged through the smoke, he met them head-on.

  All around the battlefield, goblins were dying in droves. The air was thick with the stench of blood and smoke, screams rising and falling in waves. Between the parties’ combined efforts, the forest clearing had become a slaughterhouse — arrows rained from the flanks, magic detonated across the camp, and steel flashed wherever the goblins tried to regroup.

  Josh could barely hear himself think over the cacophony. Every breath tasted of ash. His sword was slick with gore, the hilt tacky against his gloves.

  Perberos called out something triumphant from the treeline, loosing another arrow that dropped a goblin mid-sprint. Brett was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face as he prepared yet another spell, his hands trembling from exhaustion and adrenaline. Carcan’s healing light flickered between allies, patching wounds and keeping them on their feet.

  The tide was turning and with it the horde was thinning.

  Then something changed.

  It started as a low vibration beneath their boots — subtle at first, almost mistaken for the rumble of distant thunder. A second later, a sound rolled across the camp that froze everyone mid-swing, a deep, guttural roar that rattled the air and seemed to come from the earth itself. Then another joined it. And another.

  Josh’s stomach dropped.

  From deeper within the smoke, where the red fog still hung thick and heavy, hulking silhouettes began to move. Massive shapes, far too large to be goblins.

  Orcs.

  He didn’t need anyone to tell him, every instinct in his body screamed it before his brain caught up.

  The roars grew louder as the shapes emerged, towering brutes covered in crude armour, wielding heavy clubs, basic axes or cleavers that looked more like butcher’s tools than weapons. Their skin was a sickly grey-green, and their eyes burned with the same unnatural fury as the goblins’.

  Josh’s hand tightened on his sword. “They’re coming,” he said hoarsely, though everyone could already see.

  Further down the line, someone screamed for the others to regroup. Josh saw one of Brett’s fireballs fly through the air and detonate amongst the closest group of orcs, lighting them in bright orange flame, but it only enraged the creatures more. They bellowed and charged through the fire, swinging their weapons in an attempt to dissipate the flames sticking to them.

  Perberos cursed under his breath and started firing again, arrows snapping through the air toward the beasts, but most of them bounced harmlessly off thick hides and plates of scavenged armour.

  Josh swallowed hard, lifted his shield, and glanced back at Bhel. The dwarf spat on the ground and adjusted his grip on his axe.

  “Now the real fight starts,” Bhel muttered.

  Josh nodded grimly. The goblins had been a warm-up, this was going to be hell.

  The goblins of the algorithm grow weaker with every review left!

  Join the fight, adventurer, strike them down with your words of encouragement!