The Final Hours Before War

The transformation of the outpost was nearly complete. The reinforced walls stood taller, thicker, strengthened by layers of stone and ironwood. The gates, once a weak point, were now a fortress of layered steel and reinforced beams. Watchtowers had risen above the perimeter, giving my archers clear lines of sight across the battlefield. The traps and barricades had been expanded, making any direct assault a death trap for Carridan's forces.

But none of this was enough to win the war—it would only allow us to survive the first wave.

I stood atop the highest watchtower, staring out toward the distant tree line where Carridan's forces would come from. Two days. That was the time I had been given, and now those final hours were slipping away.

Below, the camp was alive with movement. Goblin warriors, mercenaries, and human archers trained side by side, sharpening weapons, checking armor, reinforcing weak spots in the walls. Even with our improvements, there was an undeniable tension in the air.

They knew.

We all knew.

The storm was coming.

Gorak stood near the center of the camp, overseeing the goblins' final drills. He swung his massive axe in demonstration, barking out orders in his guttural tongue as warriors mimicked his strikes, perfecting their killing blows. The Iron Fang mercenaries remained more structured, their commander, Draven, walking among them, ensuring their formations were tight, their weapons sharp.

For now, they worked together. But for how long?

I climbed down from the watchtower, moving toward the central fire pit where my commanders had gathered. Gorak, Draven, and the Shadeborn were waiting. The three pillars of my army, each representing a different faction now united under my banner.

I wasted no time.

"The enemy will be here by nightfall," I said. "This is our last chance to prepare before the fight begins."

Gorak bared his tusks. "Then we fight."

Draven smirked. "You make it sound so simple, orc."

Gorak turned his head, growling. "War is simple. They come, we kill. What more is there?"

The mercenary leader chuckled. "Tactics, for one." He turned to me. "We have the advantage, but that only lasts if we use it correctly. Carridan outnumbers us—even with the traps and fortifications, if we let them press us for too long, they'll break through."

I nodded. He was right. Even with my upgrades, I couldn't afford a prolonged siege. We needed to weaken Carridan's army before they reached our gates.

"We hit them first," I said. "A preemptive strike before they set up their lines."

Draven's smirk widened. "Now that's something I can work with."

Gorak crossed his arms, considering. "How?"

The Shadeborn, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Their vanguard will set up before the main force arrives. Scouts, supply carts, forward commanders. If we strike them at the right moment, we disrupt their momentum."

That was exactly what I needed.

"How many men are in the vanguard?" I asked.

The Shadeborn's violet eyes flickered. "Fifty, maybe sixty. Lightly armored. They move ahead of the main force to establish forward positions."

Draven nodded. "If we take them out, it delays the siege. Carridan will have to slow down, giving us more time to prepare."

"And if we fail?" Gorak growled.

I exhaled. "Then we fight a stronger enemy at our gates."

No one spoke for a moment.

Then Gorak grinned. "Then we do not fail."

I turned to my system. I needed reinforcements before this fight.

[Available Upgrades]

Summon an Elite War Commander (1,200 Gold) – A battle-hardened leader who improves all combat units.

Recruit More Advanced Goblin Warriors (450 Gold per unit) – Strengthens melee forces.

Summon a Second Guardian (1,000 Gold) – A new frontline defensive powerhouse.

Enhance Mercenary Training (800 Gold) – Increases Iron Fang combat effectiveness.

I made my decision.

[1,200 Gold Deducted – Summoning an Elite War Commander]

The air shimmered as my system activated. A new figure stepped forward from the ether, armored in worn but well-kept battle gear, his blade resting easily on his shoulder.

He was a human, tall and broad-shouldered, with a grizzled beard and cold, calculating eyes. A scar ran down one side of his jaw, and despite his age, he moved like a predator—controlled, patient, deadly.

He met my gaze and nodded. "You're the one in charge?"

"I am."

He studied me for a moment before grunting. "Good. Name's Commander Vaelin."

The system notification flashed.

[New Commander Acquired: Vaelin, the Battle-Hardened]

- Increases Unit Combat Efficiency by 15%

- Unlocks Advanced Tactical Formations

- Boosts Defensive Morale in Sieges

Draven whistled lowly. "Now that's a good addition."

Vaelin crossed his arms. "Where do you need me?"

I turned back to the group. "You're leading the preemptive strike. We need to crush Carridan's vanguard before they even reach our walls."

The older warrior nodded, already analyzing the best way to execute the plan. "How many men do I get?"

"Thirty," I said. "A mix of goblins, mercenaries, and scouts."

Vaelin nodded. "Enough to do some real damage. We move before sunset."

The battle was set.

By nightfall, our forces would clash with Carridan's vanguard. If we won, we could delay the siege, buy ourselves more time to prepare. If we lost, the outpost would face an overwhelming force.

I turned to my warriors, to the goblins sharpening their weapons, the mercenaries preparing their armor, the Guardian standing motionless, waiting for battle.

This wasn't just a skirmish. This was the moment that determined the future of my army.

Gorak grinned, gripping his axe. "We are ready."

Draven smirked. "Let's bleed them."

Vaelin tightened his gauntlets. "Then we move."