For a heartbeat, the world went quiet.

  Then Josh realised it wasn’t silence, it was the absence of new enemies. The ground around them was littered with goblin corpses, the air thick with the stench of blood, smoke, and singed flesh. A few dying goblins still twitched or whimpered, but the tide had broken.

  He could hear his own heavy breathing through the muffled ringing in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind, several soft chimes sounded, system notifications, waiting to be read. Across the clearing, Brett looked exhausted, his hands still faintly glowing from his last cast, while Carcan leaned against a tree, panting, her staff clutched tight, both of them were drinking mana potions.

  Josh lowered his shield, its face smeared with gore and ash, and met Bhel’s eyes. The dwarf gave a short, savage nod, breathing hard but grinning through blood-spattered teeth.

  They’d done it. For now.

  Josh drove his sword through the chest of a goblin that was still moving on the ground, twisting the blade before yanking it free. The creature gave a sharp, pitiful shriek before crumpling at his feet. For a moment, there was nothing but the rasp of breathing and the soft crackle of dying fires.

  The clearing around them was a mess of blood, smoke, and broken bodies. The stench was overpowering, burnt flesh mingled with the sour stink of goblins and the iron tang of blood. Brett leaned on his knees, gasping, his robes scorched and sweat dripping down his face. Bhel planted the head of his axe in the dirt and rested both hands on it, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

  After a few moments, the party regrouped, breathless but alive. The clearing stank of blood and burnt flesh, smoke still curling in the air like ghostly ribbons. Josh wiped his blade clean on a goblin’s tattered cloak, chest heaving with exhaustion, a grin cracking through the grime on his face.

  “Not bad for a day’s work,” he said, rolling his shoulder with a wince. “Didn’t think we’d walk out of that one.”

  Bhel let out a short, gruff laugh as he leaned on his axe. “Aye, you’re still on your feet, lad. Can’t say the same for the ugly bastards.” He gave the nearest goblin corpse a nudge with his boot. “That one’s not getting back up either.”

  Brett stumbled toward them, face pale but eyes shining, clutching his staff. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said between gasps. “If I hadn’t torched half of them, you’d both be goblin stew.”

  Josh barked a laugh. “If you’d aimed a little lower, I’d have more than a slight sunburn!”

  Carcan joined them, her staff still glowing faintly from the residual magic of her last spell. “You can argue later,” she said, though a tired smile tugged at her lips. “We’re still breathing. That’s enough for now.”

  For a brief, fragile moment, the group allowed themselves to exhale. The adrenaline ebbed, replaced by relief and the giddy disbelief of surviving something they shouldn’t have. Even Perberos emerged from the treeline, lowering his bow with a satisfied nod.

  “Well fought,” he said. “All of you. The gods favour those who stand firm.”

  Josh chuckled. “Let’s hope they keep doing that.”

  Then, like a bubble bursting, the moment shattered. The sound of battle rolled across the trees once more, clashing steel, guttural screams, and the deep, bone-rattling roars of orcs echoing from the left flank.

  Perberos’ face hardened. “That’s not over,” he muttered, already nocking another arrow.

  The party turned toward the sound, their brief reprieve fading into the smoke and fire of the battlefield.

  Josh swore under his breath and wiped blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. “We can’t just stay here. If they get overrun, the whole flank collapses.”

  Carcan hesitated, her voice strained. “You’re all hurt, low on mana… if we push further in—”

  “We don’t have a choice,” Brett cut in, straightening up and rolling his shoulders. His hands still glowed faintly, though the light flickered weakly. “If they fall, we’ll be next anyway. Better to hit them hard and keep the pressure up.”

  Josh nodded in agreement, gripping his sword tight. “We flank them, hit the bastards from the side. Bhel, stay close. Perberos — keep the pressure on from range. Brett, focus on spreading fire, but don’t burn us alive while you’re at it.”

  Bhel grinned, a feral glint in his eye. “About time we took the fight to them.”

  Carcan exhaled shakily and raised her staff. “Fine. But don’t make me waste the last of my mana.”

  Perberos gave a dry chuckle, already moving.

  The party tightened formation, moving through the burnt trees and over the matted bodies of goblins to dissipate into golden dust behind them. The air shimmered with lingering heat from Brett’s fireballs, and the soil was slick beneath their boots. As they pressed toward the sound of fighting, the metallic clangs and screams grew louder.

  Josh’s pulse quickened. He could see flashes of steel ahead, the guards locked in combat with a dozen goblins, their shields faltering, another orc lumbering toward them through the smoke.

  He raised his sword, voice hard. “Let’s give them some relief.”

  And with that, the party broke into a run.

  As the group pushed through the smoke and undergrowth, boots squelching in blood-soaked soil. Josh led the way, shield up, sword held at his hip. The sound of battle was close now, steel clanging, goblins shrieking, and the deep bellow of an orc cutting through it all.

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  They crashed through a tangle of crude tents, the smell of smoke and blood thick in the air, and burst into a small clearing that was nothing short of chaos. The instant they broke through, they slammed into the side of the melee like a hammer striking metal.

  A goblin turned it’s head just in time to see Josh’s shield slam into its spine. The impact was sickening, bone cracked, and the creature folded in on itself with a strangled yelp, collapsing in the dirt. Another lunged toward him, screeching, but Josh pivoted, his sword flashing in a brutal arc that split its throat.

  Bhel was already beside him, roaring as his axe bit deep into a goblin’s shoulder and cleaved through bone and sinew. The next swing took off a head cleanly, the body twitching as it hit the ground. Blood sprayed across his forearms, but he didn’t slow down.

  “Hit them hard!” Josh shouted, his voice hoarse but commanding, cutting through the chaos. “Don’t give them a chance to regroup!”

  Perberos’ arrows answered before anyone else could, a rapid thwick-thwick-thwick. Each shaft finding its mark in the masses of goblins. One stumbled back with a shaft through its eye; another spun and fell, clutching at its chest as blood poured between its fingers.

  Brett, standing a little behind, muttered the words of his spell. The air shimmered around his hands before a fireball shot forth, exploding in the middle of a cluster of goblins. Screams erupted as orange flame rolled over them. The stench of burning hair and cooked flesh filled the clearing.

  The goblin line faltered. Confusion rippled through them as their flank was suddenly gone, bodies dropping, smoke blinding them, arrows and flame tearing holes through their ranks.

  “Keep pushing!” Bhel bellowed, shoving forward, his axe flashing in savage rhythm.

  Josh moved in lockstep beside him, shield raised high, his every strike deliberate and heavy. His muscles screamed, his breath came ragged, but he pressed on. He could see the two guards now, battered, bloodied, but still standing shoulder to shoulder. Their shields were dented and smeared red, spears darting forward in quick, desperate thrusts. Around them lay a ring of corpses — goblins piled like discarded refuse, and among them, the hulking body of an orc.

  Behind the guards, three adventurers struggled to keep their footing, firing arrows and muttering weak spells as they tried to hold the line.

  A final orc let out a deep, guttural roar, so loud it vibrated in Josh’s chest. The orc lumbered behind the goblins, towering above them all. Its skin was dark and leathery, muscles rippling beneath crude armour. It swung a jagged cleaver the size of a man’s torso, carving through one of its own kind in its fury.

  The guards braced, shields locking again but when the orc’s weapon came down, it struck like a thunderbolt. The impact rang through the clearing, sending the guards staggering back a step. Their formation held, barely, but Josh could see the strain in their faces, the tremor in their arms.

  “Gods,” Brett muttered under his breath, watching the orc rear up again for another strike. “Looks like they’ve taken a battering.”

  Josh gritted his teeth, shield raised, and charged into the fray. He tore through the thinning goblins, smashing aside a snarling one with his shield before letting out his own roar and ramming full-force into the orc’s flank. The impact was like hitting a wall, the creature barely staggered, muscles bunching like corded steel beneath its scarred hide but it was enough. The orc turned, a guttural snarl ripping from its throat, one tusk broken and its skin blistered from old burns. Its eyes locked on Josh, blazing with murderous rage.

  Bhel came in low, axe sweeping out in a brutal arc that bit deep into the orc’s thigh. The blade hit bone with a wet crunch. The monster roared and twisted, cleaver already swinging down to split Bhel in half but Josh met it mid-swing. His sword came up just in time, catching the edge on the flat of his blade. Sparks burst in a bright flash, the force of the blow numbing his arm all the way to the shoulder.

  “Now!” Josh barked through gritted teeth.

  Bhel didn’t hesitate. He stepped in, planted his boot against the orc’s shin, and swung upward with both hands. The axe ripped through flesh and muscle, opening the creature from hip to ribcage. Hot blood sprayed across them both, thick and metallic in the air. The orc reeled back, bellowing, clutching at its spilling entrails.

  A streak of orange light seared past Josh’s shoulder — Brett’s firebolt. It hit the orc square in the chest, bursting into flame that rolled up its torso and over its face. The creature screamed as the fire ate into it, but before it could take another step, one of the battered guards thrust his spear forward. The steel punched clean through the orc’s neck.

  The monster gurgled, stumbled, and fell backward, crashing down onto a heap of its own dead with a final, shuddering roar.

  For a long moment, no one moved. Then, as the orc’s body finally went still, the remaining goblins broke. Their courage shattered like glass. They shrieked and scattered, tripping over the corpses of their kin, but Perberos’ arrows found them one by one. Each shaft hissed through the smoky air, punching through skulls and throats until the last of them fell with a strangled gasp, twitching in the dirt.

  Silence followed. Heavy and unreal. Only ragged breathing filled the clearing now, and the faint crackle of fire somewhere beyond the tents. The metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air, mingling with burnt leather and ash.

  Josh lowered his sword, chest heaving, his arms trembling from the effort. He glanced around at his friends: Brett’s face pale but set with grim resolve; Bhel’s axes slick and dripping; Perberos scanning the treeline, already reaching for another arrow just in case. Carcan hovered behind them, staff clutched tight, concern etched across her features.

  The fight here was done. But beyond the tents, the camp still pulsed with chaos, screams, steel, and the dull, rhythmic thud of something large still fighting.

  Josh leaned on his sword, breathing hard. His lungs burned, his shoulders felt like stone. “Everyone in one piece?” he managed between breaths.

  One of the guards nodded, pulling his dented helmet off and wiping a streak of blood from his temple. “Barely. We thought we were done for.” His voice cracked halfway through, equal parts relief and disbelief.

  Bhel chuckled darkly, flicking blood from his axe with a practiced twist of the wrist. “Lucky for you, we were feelin’ charitable today.”

  Brett smirked, though exhaustion carved deep lines into his face. “Charitable’s one word for it,” he muttered, glancing toward the smouldering corpse of the orc. “Stupid might be another.”

  Carcan was already moving among them, murmuring weak healing incantations as she checked wounds. Her hands shook with fatigue, faint trails of golden light spilling between her fingers as she sealed a cut on one guards arm. “Hold still,” she said softly. “You’ll live, though maybe you’ll wish you hadn’t tomorrow.”

  The guard gave a short, weary laugh. “Tomorrow sounds good right about now.”

  Around them, the clearing was a ruin of blood, bodies, and firelight. The orc’s flesh still smouldered faintly, a sickly orange glow beneath the smoke.

  Josh turned toward the distant sounds of battle, their comrades still fighting somewhere deeper in the camp. “No time to rest,” he said, voice low but firm. “The others might not be as lucky.”

  Perberos adjusted the strap on his bow, expression grim. “Then let’s finish this,” he said, voice like flint.

  The groups fell in behind Josh once more, weapons ready, their exhaustion buried beneath the one thing that still burned in them. Resolve.

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