Chapter 33
Meanwhile, the small village was surrounded by towering wooden palisades, the sharpened logs forming an imposing barrier separating the humble settlement from the untamed wilderness beyond.
An eerie silence hung in the crisp night air, only disturbed by the occasional hoot of an owl.
Suddenly, a cacophony of guttural shrieks and the crackling of torches shattered the tranquility. Countless goblins, their grotesque features twisted in feral snarls, converged around the village's sturdy gate like a ravenous horde.
The flickering flames cast an ominous, dancing glow upon their sickly green skin and malformed bodies.
The sight of the vile creatures clawing and slamming their crude weapons against the wooden gate in a frenzied attempt to breach it struck terror into the hearts of the villagers huddled within.
"Ah…look! The monster!"
"No…!"
Panicked screams and cries erupted, shattering what little composure remained.
Goblin hands, their nails cracked and caked with grime, scrabbled desperately to find purchase on the walls, their elongated shadows undulating across the ground.
Slit pupils peered through the gate's narrow gaps, reflecting the torchlight like those of feral beasts stalking their prey.
The male villagers, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and grim determination, braced their bodies against the gate, straining every muscle to reinforce the buckling barrier.
"My lord!" one cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "The gate won't hold much longer!"
SLASH-!
In a blur of motion and a spray of foul goblin blood, those creatures attempting to scale the walls were abruptly decapitated.
A lone figure, clad in gleaming chainmail armor that caught the torchlight, emerged from the shadows - a knight with his helmet's visor firmly closed.
"Filthy creatures!" the knight bellowed, his deep voice reverberating from within his enclosed helm.
With powerful, sweeping arcs of his massive sword, he cut through several goblins at once, their severed limbs and viscera raining down as their bodies were effortlessly cast aside.
Anger seethed from the knight as he turned his concealed gaze upon the terrified villagers below. "Retreat! You're useless!" he roared, his harsh words laced with contempt.
His eyes scanned the area beyond the walls, where a seemingly endless horde of goblins stood defiantly, their rusted blades and torches raised high.
The flickering flames revealed a churning sea of grotesque, goblin-like monstrosities stretching as far as the eye could see, their numbers appearing to swell with every passing moment.
At the vanguard, lightly-armed skirmishers brandished primitive blades and wore crudely fashioned hide armor.
Rank upon rank of heavily-equipped goblin warriors followed, their hulking forms adorned with pitted axes and decrepit shields etched with vile, indecipherable symbols.
Cruel spikes protruded from their makeshift armor, stained with the dried blood of past victims. These brutes would undoubtedly prove the toughest foes to overcome.
More than 500 monsters—comprising heavily armored units, archers, and even foot soldiers—were arrayed before him. Just by seeing this, the knight knew that winning would be a challenging task.
"Tsk! Where has he gone?! Did that mage flee?!" The knight's words came out in a wheezing rasp from behind his visor as he crushed goblin skulls with his armored gauntlets, the sickening crunch of bone resounding through the night.
The knight was none other than the noble, Belev Averial. Despite his poor technique and sloppy posture, the tremendous raw power behind his wild sword swings was evident. He grew increasingly agitated.
His circular chainmail helmet encased his entire head, leaving only a narrow slit through which to peer out into the world.
Upon witnessing the relentless goblin advance, Belev's agitation twisted into seething hatred, his grip tightening around his sword's well-worn hilt.
Image of the one man who should have been aiding in the village's defense flooded his mind, fanning the flames of his fury. "Fucking commoner bastard!" he spat, oblivious to the goblins nocking arrows to their crude bows and pointing them skyward.
SWOOSH!
SWOOSH!
The whistling of the first volley of arrows penetrated Belev's rage-induced haze, their iron tips cutting through the night like deadly messengers of fate.
Arrows whistled through the air, leaving Belev with no choice but to clench his teeth and resort to the arcane powers coursing through his veins.
"O flame that dances, heat that scorches," he whispered, the incantation carrying an ethereal weight as his blue eyes darkened and his body grew uncomfortably warm beneath his constricting chainmail armor.
"I call on thee, unleash thy fury." The final syllable caused an aura of bright orange amber light to emanate from his gauntleted hands.
"Wind that whirls and fuel that torches," Belev continued, his gravelly voice muffled by the enclosing helmet. The air around him seemed to ripple and distort, transforming into countless flickering embers that swirled in an unseen vortex.
"To my will, I beseech your powers," he declared, bending his knees and gripping the hilt of his massive blade with both hands. As if answering his call, the entire length of the sword ignited, wreathed in undulating tongues of fire.
"MY BLAZING WHIRLWIND FURY!" Belev's booming roar shook the very air as he leapt from the wall, his body propelled by mystical energies.
The flickering embers coalesced into a swirling typhoon of roaring flames that seemed to bend to his very will, the blazing maelstrom slicing through the distance toward the goblin horde.
BOOM!
The impact shook the earth, utterly demolishing the wooden palisade where Belev had stood only moments before.
A scorching wave of fire obliterated everything in its path, engulfing the goblin archers and their deadly volleys in an inferno of crackling flames. A deep, blackened furrow scarred the ground, the heat so intense it caused the very air to shimmer and distort.
THUD!
Belev landed nimbly, his face flushed with the immense effort of channeling such destructive magic. "Hah...hah..." he panted, his chest heaving beneath his sweat-soaked gambeson.
Despite his massive magical attack, the decreasing number of goblins and casualties were only evident among the foot soldiers.
The heavily armored goblins, who had fallen, began standing up again with little to no damage. The archers, who should have been burned, were protected by these metal shields from the goblins.
Additionally, noticing the gaping breach in the village's defenses, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Tch, too many of them!" Belev spat, sweat beading on his brow beneath the stifling confines of his helmet. Even the searing intensity of his flames could not hold off this relentless horde indefinitely.
A flicker of doubt crept into his mind then.
Could this truly be the end? To die alone, surrounded by goblin filth, with no glory or reward to show for his deeds?
No, he could not accept such an ignoble fate!
He was not ready to fall here!
"Tsk, archers! Fuck, where are you, sluts!" Belev's furious bellow echoed across the embattled village as the foolish goblins, carrying only torches, mindlessly flocked toward the smoldering breach instead of using the flames to set the remaining wooden palisades ablaze.
"GRR-!"
"SCREEEECH-!"
They screamed and charged through the gap like a green tide of malformed flesh, while Belev, blocking their path, abandoned his now useless greatsword and drew a longsword from the scabbard at his hip.
"Useless teammates!" Belev snarled, his harsh words dripping with disdain as the swarm of grotesque goblins approached.
However, his eyes burned not with fear or uncertainty, but with a potent mixture of hatred and steely resolve - a stark contrast to the arrogant disdain he had previously displayed.
"SPIRITS OF THE BREEZE, HEED MY CALL!" Just as Belev braced himself, prepared to meet his fate, an ethereal incantation carried upon the wind reached his ears.
He glanced over his shoulder to find the elven woman already aiming her exquisitely crafted bow directly at him, or more precisely, at the space he currently occupied.
Countless gossamer strands of verdant mana coalesced around the arrowhead, swirling and pulsing with arcane energies as her serene, ageless gaze locked onto her mark with unbending focus.
SWOOSH!
Without a moment's hesitation, Belev throw himself into the side, his chainmail rattling as a tremendous gust of wind swept across the battlefield.
The goblin swarm was flung aside like raggedy dolls, their shrieks of terror drowned out by the thunderous impact as the elf's spell obliterated the very ground where he had stood only instants before.
"Crazy..." Belev muttered under his breath as he landed in a crouch, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the telltale signs of fatigue etched upon the elf's delicate features.
It was to be expected - channeling such immense power required an extraordinary expenditure of mana. "Damn, you almost kill me!"
Unfortunately, fortune did not favor the defenders this night.
"There's more..." Belev's gravelly voice was tinged with grim resignation as his gaze settled upon another seemingly endless horde of goblins flooding through the breach torn in the wooden palisades, their misshapen feet trampling the broken corpses of their kin felled by his flames and the elf's devastating strike.
As he steeled himself to face this new onslaught, Belev's eyes narrowed, detecting an unnatural purple haze slowly creeping forth from the goblin ranks. "Reinforcements?!"
...
Meanwhile, the villagers had rushed to the elven woman's side, their faces etched with concern as she struggled to remain upright after unleashing such a cataclysmic attack.
"My lady, are you okay?"
"My lady, do you need anything?"
Despite the sight of the seemingly endless goblin horde only meters away, the villagers' eyes shone not with fear, but with profound compassion and gratitude for the elf and the ill-tempered noble who had so valiantly defended their homes.
The elf swayed unsteadily, her legs trembling with the immense strain of gathering and channeling so much raw mana into her attack.
Yet her voice remained calm and measured as she answered, "Just bring me some dandelion." Her body shook, a reminder that she had but one shot remaining before utter exhaustion consumed her.
"Dandelion?" The villagers exchanged puzzled looks, but seeing the elf's unwavering determination despite her wobbly stance, they wasted no time in obeying her peculiar command.
It was an unusual request, to be sure - yet in this quaint village surrounded by grassy fields and meadows, finding a few sprigs of the ubiquitous yellow wildflowers proved no difficult task. Some of the more eccentric villagers had even taken to drying the fluffy dandelion heads to use as rustic decorations in their humble homes.
"W-what..." But then, the elf's murmured words of amazement caused the villagers to turn, their brows furrowing in confusion as they followed her widening gaze. "No way..." she breathed, and they soon understood her awestruck reaction.
A vast, billowing cloud of acrid purple smoke was rapidly descending upon the goblin ranks from above, shrouding the foul creatures in an impenetrable veil of roiling vapors.
The unnatural miasma seemed to churn and twist of its own accord, blotting out the torchlight and plunging the battlefield into utter chaos.
Harsh coughs and agonized shrieks erupted from within the noxious gloom as the goblins flailed blindly, their cries soon devolving into sickening gurgles as the toxic fumes seared their lungs.
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