Chapter 22: Clash of Claws and Blades

[Leav POV]

The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of steel, flesh, and blood. The Bonefang warriors clashed with Leav's growing forces, their rusted weapons glinting in the moonlight. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and iron, the sounds of snarling, battle cries, and dying screams blending into a single, maddening roar.

Leav stood at the heart of it all, his mind a whirlwind of calculations. His forces had grown, but so had the Bonefang threat. This was no mere skirmish—it was a battle that would determine the survival of his tribe.

"Tear, hold the center line!" Leav barked, his voice cutting through the din. "Yorl, take the left flank and break their momentum. Frot, take your team and eliminate their archers. Weal, poison the gaps in their formation!"

Tear, a massive figure among the goblins, let out a guttural growl and charged forward, his crude axe cleaving through the nearest Bonefang warrior. Blood sprayed across his green skin, but he didn't falter. He was a wall, an unstoppable force holding the line together.

On the left, Yorl was in his element. His wild, reckless swings tore through the Bonefang ranks, his laughter echoing through the battlefield. But Leav could see his problem—Yorl was strong, but too aggressive. He left openings, and the Bonefangs were starting to exploit them.

Leav moved before he could think. His blade intercepted a strike aimed at Yorl's exposed side, his movements precise, controlled. Yorl barely registered the save before snarling, slamming his opponent into the dirt.

"Think, Yorl!" Leav hissed as he parried another blow. "Power without control is weakness!"

Yorl's eyes flickered with understanding. His swings became tighter, more precise. He wasn't just a storm of destruction anymore—he was a sharpened blade.

Across the battlefield, Frot and his team slithered through the shadows, their daggers flashing in the night. The Bonefang archers, positioned atop a rocky incline, never saw them coming. One by one, they fell, their bodies slumping without a sound.

Weal worked his poison into the gaps of the Bonefang formation. Blades coated in venom slashed exposed flesh, and within moments, warriors crumpled, twitching and foaming at the mouth. Panic spread like wildfire through their ranks.

Leav's plan was working.

But then, a roar split the night.

A massive figure emerged from the Bonefang ranks.

[Bonefang Warlord POV]

The Bonefang Warlord was a monster among goblins. His muscles bulged under his crude armor, his eyes burning with battle-lust. He had watched the battle unfold, seen his warriors falter against Leav's growing forces. It enraged him.

These weaklings dared challenge the Bonefangs?

Unacceptable.

With a single leap, he crashed into the heart of the battlefield, his massive club slamming into the ground. The impact sent goblins flying, scattering them like leaves in the wind.

A sneer curled his lips. "You think you can stand against the Bonefangs? Against me?"

He caught a charging goblin by the throat, lifting him with ease before crushing his windpipe with a single squeeze. The goblin's body crumpled lifelessly, discarded like trash.

His gaze locked onto the one giving orders—Leav.

[Leav POV]

Leav's instincts screamed danger. The Bonefang Warlord was stronger than any goblin he had faced before. His presence alone shifted the battle, sending tremors of fear through Leav's forces.

Leav gripped his weapon tighter. This wasn't just about tactics anymore. This was about survival.

The Bonefang Warlord charged, his club swinging like a battering ram. Leav barely ducked in time, the force of the swing sending dust and debris flying.

He couldn't fight this brute head-on. He needed to be faster, smarter.

Leav darted to the side, his blade slicing through the warlord's arm. It was a clean cut, but the warlord barely flinched. He countered with a backhand swing, and this time, Leav wasn't fast enough.

The impact sent him sprawling. Pain exploded in his ribs, but he forced himself up. There was no time for weakness.

The warlord loomed over him, grinning. "Is this all you've got?"

Before Leav could respond, another figure crashed into the warlord—Tear.

[Tear POV]

Tear was no strategist, no thinker. But he knew strength, and he knew battle.

He had seen Leav fall, and something inside him had snapped.

With a snarl, he slammed into the Bonefang Warlord, his axe carving a deep gash into the brute's side. Blood spurted, but the warlord barely reacted. He turned, swinging his club in a wide arc.

Tear raised his axe to block, but the impact sent him skidding back, his arms trembling from the sheer force.

The warlord laughed. "Good. A real fight."

Tear bared his teeth. "I'll show you a real fight."

He launched himself forward, his movements raw, relentless. Axe met club in a deadly dance, each strike sending shockwaves through the air.

Leav regained his footing, his mind racing. Tear was holding his own, but the warlord was too strong. He needed a weakness.

His eyes darted across the battlefield. The poison.

"Weal!" Leav called. "Coat my blade!"

Weal was already moving. Within moments, Leav's weapon was slick with venom.

Leav didn't wait. He lunged forward, slashing deep into the warlord's leg. The poison worked fast, seeping into his bloodstream.

The warlord staggered.

Tear took the opening.

With a roar, he brought his axe down in a brutal arc, cleaving through the warlord's shoulder. The giant goblin let out a choked sound, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Leav moved in for the final strike, his poisoned blade plunging into the warlord's throat.

Silence.

Then—the Bonefang Warlord collapsed, his massive body hitting the dirt with a heavy thud.

The battlefield froze.

The Bonefang warriors, seeing their leader fall, wavered. Then, one by one, they broke, retreating into the night.

Leav exhaled, his body trembling.

They had won.

But this was just the beginning.