From within the haze, three hulking shapes emerged through the smoke and red fog, orcs, each nearly the bulk of two men. Their guttural snarls rolled through the din as they stomped over the bodies of fallen goblins, trampling them without thought. The goblin horde had thinned, but the sight of these monsters renewed the dread in every adventurer’s chest.

  Brett spotted them first. His pulse hammered as he raised his hand and started chanting, flames licking across his fingers. He could feel the weight of every spell now, the ache of a mana pool running close to dry, but he couldn’t stop. Not with those things bearing down on his friends.

  He hurled a fireball into the centre of the orcs. The spell arced through the smoky air and exploded with a crack that shook the trees, engulfing the beasts in roaring flame. The heat washed over the battlefield, lighting up the clearing like dawn.

  Goblins near the blast vanished in screams and ash, their crude weapons melting in their hands. But the orcs—

  They didn’t fall.

  Brett swore under his breath. The flames clung to their skin, blistering and blackening it, but the orcs just roared louder, furious instead of afraid. The smell of burning flesh carried on the wind. One of them slapped out part of the fire on its shoulder and raised a massive cleaver, its single good eye glowing crimson under the haze.

  “Bloody hell… they’re still coming!” Brett shouted, pulling another fireball into existence, the magic tugging at the last dregs of his strength. After this he realised he’d need to switch to firebolts in an attempt to conserve some mana.

  Perberos was moving. He darted along the treeline, eyes narrowed, bowstring drawn tight. He ignored the goblins now, this was a bigger threat. He lined up his shot on the lead orc’s broad chest and loosed.

  This arrow thudded into muscle but barely slowed it. The orc snarled and kept coming.

  Another arrow, this one higher, glancing off the collarbone. A third buried deep just below the creature’s neck, dark blood spilling down its chest. Still, it didn’t stop.

  Perberos ground his teeth, adjusted his stance, and drew again, feeling the familiar weight of tension in his bowstring. “Come on… come on…” he muttered.

  The orc lifted its head, mouth open in a bellow.

  Perberos let fly.

  The arrow screamed through the haze, vanishing into the fog, before burying itself with a wet crunch right through the orc’s eye socket. For a split second, the beast just froze, like its brain hadn’t caught up to the fact it was dead. Then it let out a choking gurgle and collapsed backwards. The impact shook the ground, spraying mud and bloody grit across the grass.

  “Holy shit!”

  For a brief second, the adventurers cheered but the other two orcs didn’t even glance at their fallen kin. They just kept marching forward through the carnage, smoke curling from their burned flesh, eyes fixed on the treeline where the adventurers waited.

  Josh braced behind his shield, feeling the tremor of each heavy footstep through the earth.

  “Right, one down,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on his sword. “Guess it’s our turn.”

  The other two orcs pushed their way through the surviving goblins, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Smaller creatures were sent flying, some crushed underfoot, others knocked aside by sheer brute force. One of the orcs swung a spiked club lazily at a goblin in its path, smashing the creature into a nearby tree with a wet crunch before bellowing again, the sound shaking Josh’s ribs even from a distance.

  Brett’s fire still clung to them, licking along their shoulders and backs, the flames crackling where flesh had blistered and peeled away. Their skin bubbled and split under the heat, but the pain only seemed to drive them further into a frenzy. The smell of scorched meat filled the air, thick and nauseating.

  Josh grimaced behind his shield, his throat dry. “They’re not even slowing down,” he muttered.

  One of the orcs slammed a goblin aside with its forearm, sending it tumbling into the dirt, then locked eyes on Josh and roared. The sound hit like a shockwave, rattling through the trees.

  Brett, standing on a slope behind them, threw a final fireball. The spell streaked across the battlefield, bursting between the two orcs in a flash of molten light. For a moment, both disappeared in the explosion, and goblin corpses went flying in every direction.

  When the smoke cleared, both orcs were still standing. Their hair had burned away entirely, their skin blackened and cracked like charcoal, but their muscles flexed beneath the charred surface. Steam hissed from their bodies as their wounds sizzled, glowing faintly red with mana-fuelled rage.

  Brett stumbled, his breathing ragged. “That… should’ve hurt them a lot more.”

  Perberos cursed under his breath, drawing another arrow and loosing it, though he knew it would do little against things like that unless he got another lucky hit. The shaft buried itself deep in one orc’s side, but it didn’t flinch, didn’t even look down.

  The pair charged forward now, low and fast despite their size, their heavy footfalls pounding across the dirt. Josh could feel the vibration through his boots as they closed in, the last few goblins diving out of their way.

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  Bhel grunted beside him, tightening his grip on his axe. “Time to earn our keep, lad.”

  Josh swallowed, raised his shield, and braced himself. “Aye. Let’s see if these bastards can bleed.”

  The orcs broke through another group of goblins, pushing others forward, and the fight began anew, closer, louder, and far more deadly.

  Josh drove his sword deep into the chest of another goblin, feeling the resistance as the blade met bone before tearing free with a wet rip. The creature slumped to the dirt, twitching once before going still. He took a half step back, raising his shield and peering over its rim. Through the haze and smoke, the two orcs were closing fast, monstrous shapes cutting through the chaos, their hulking bodies framed by firelight and shadow.

  He knew they couldn’t let both reach the line. If they did, it would be over in seconds.

  “Bhel!” Josh barked, voice hoarse from shouting. “I’m pushing forward, we take one before the other gets close!”

  The dwarf’s answering roar was like thunder. “About time we stopped waiting!”

  Without another word, Josh surged forward, his boots churning up dirt and blood. The goblins in front of him barely had time to react. He slammed into the first group like a battering ram, his shield crunching into ribs and skulls, sending bodies flying left and right. Green blood splattered his faceplate as he drove on, carving a path through the swarm.

  Behind him, Bhel followed like a living avalanche. Every goblin Josh knocked down was met with a brutal end — the dwarf’s axe rose and fell in wide, heavy arcs, each swing punctuated by a grunt of effort and the wet crack of bone. He moved with grim purpose, splitting skulls and severing limbs as easily as chopping firewood.

  Around them, enemy arrows fell like rain, thudding into the ground, bouncing off armour, hastily thrown up magical shields, or some even driving deeply into goblins.

  “Keep moving!” Bhel shouted, his voice booming over the clash. “Don’t slow down, lad!”

  Josh didn’t. He felt the burn in his legs, the strain in his shoulders, but he pressed on. The orc on the right had broken ahead of the other, its charred hide glistening with blood and soot. It swung a cleaver the size of a man’s torso, scattering goblins as it came, it was heading straight for him.

  Perfect.

  Josh adjusted his grip, hefting his shield and sword as he charged the last few metres. His heart hammered against his ribs, every instinct screaming at him to run, but he buried the fear deep. If he stopped now, if he faltered for even a moment, that thing would plough through their line and kill everyone behind him.

  —

  Carcan’s breath came in shallow bursts, the air thick with smoke and the copper tang of blood. Sweat trickled down her neck, plastering loose strands of hair to her face as she called out warnings between spells.

  “Left, Josh, shield up!” she shouted, thrusting her staff forward. A shimmer of golden light flared just in time to catch an arrow before it could skewer his exposed side. The impact rippled through her arm.

  Her heart hammered. Every cast was a drain she could feel deep in her chest. She forced herself to take a half-step back, drawing in ragged breaths, trying to steady her shaking hands. She’d already used one mana potion, the glass vial now lying somewhere at her feet, shattered. The second sat in her palm, her thumb resting against the cork.

  She hesitated.

  If she drank it now, she’d recover enough to keep fighting but that would be it. A third potion in a short time would overload her system, make her magic unstable, maybe even burn her mana channels. The thought made her stomach twist.

  Her eyes darted back to the fight. Bhel was a whirlwind of brute strength, his axe drenched in black goblin blood, and Josh was charging through the enemies line like a battering ram, despite a fresh gash across his shoulder. She’d patched a handful of scrapes and cuts, nothing life-threatening yet but that could change in a heartbeat.

  “Damn it,” she whispered, gripping the potion tighter.

  Another arrow whistled toward Josh. Carcan reacted on instinct, swinging her staff and pouring what mana she could spare into a quick barrier. The arrow hit, splintering harmlessly against the shimmer of light before vanishing into sparks.

  Her knees trembled from the effort.

  She could feel the drain, the growing emptiness inside her chest that no amount of rest could fix right now. Around her, the forest glowed with firelight and chaos, and she realised, this wasn’t even the worst of it yet.

  She forced herself upright, voice sharp as she barked another warning. “Josh! Two on your right! Bhel, that one behind you is still alive!”

  Her mana was running low. Her hands shook. But she refused to falter.

  If she gave in now, someone would die.

  —

  Josh slammed his shield forward once more, the impact cracking bone and sending another goblin tumbling lifeless to the dirt. He barely had time to breathe before the press in front of him parted, one of the orcs had forced its way through, its bulk towering above the sea of green bodies. The other lagged behind, tangled or slowed by something unseen.

  With a growl building in his chest, Josh braced his boots against the blood-slick ground and charged. The orc met him head-on, bellowing, both unwilling to give an inch.

  The collision was brutal. Shield met muscle and iron with a sound like a hammer striking an anvil. The shock rippled up Josh’s arm, his shoulder screaming in protest as the impact drove the breath from his lungs. The orc staggered a half-step but didn’t fall, its tusked snarl inches from his face, hot breath stinking of rot and smoke.

  For a moment, it was just raw strength man against monster, will against weight. Josh dug his heels into the mud, teeth gritted, feeling the strain in every muscle as the two locked together like clashing titans.

  Then Josh’s shield met the orc’s cleaver mid-swing, the impact exploding through his arm like lightning. He staggered, boots sliding back through the mud, but he didn’t fall. The orc’s red eyes flared, and it bellowed, bringing its weapon around again in a wide, brutal arc. Josh ducked under the swing and drove his sword up, stabbing deep into the creature’s side. The blade cut through burned flesh, and hot, black blood sprayed across his arm.

  The orc roared in fury, not pain, and tried to grab him, massive fingers closing around his shield. Josh yanked back, twisting his body and kicking out with his boot, slamming the edge of his greave into the orc’s knee. The creature dropped slightly, enough for Josh to rip his sword free and thrust again, higher this time, toward its ribs.

  Behind him, Bhel’s axe split another goblin in two, the dwarf closing fast. “Keep it busy!” he yelled.

  “I’m bloody trying!” Josh shouted through clenched teeth, blocking another blow that sent a jolt up his arm. The metal of his shield warped under the strain, the edge dented where the cleaver struck.

  He shoved forward with everything he had, feeling his strength skill thrumming beneath his skin, muscles burning as he forced the orc back a step. Its massive chest heaved, its breath coming out in snarls that stank of blood and smoke.

  He had to hold out until Bhel reached them.

  RPG Stat Buff Edition:

  You deal 1d6 damage to the Algorithm of Indifference by leaving a review.

  You land a critical hit by hitting Follow.

  Roll high, adventurer.