The sound of eight thousand boots was like thunder rolling through stone. The cave mouth swallowed the army one column at a time, their torches casting wavering shadows along the jagged walls. The air was close, heavy with the stench of blood, rot, and damp earth.
Angela strode at the vanguard, her massive greatsword resting across her shoulder. The crimson of her hair caught the torchlight, making her look like a walking flame in steel. Every so often, a goblin would leap from a crevice, only to be cleaved in half before its shriek fully left its throat. Golden sparks flashed around her boots when she dashed, Juggernaut's Rush cracking the stone beneath her feet.
At the rear, Selvara moved like a phantom. She dashed from flank to flank, piercing stragglers that tried to circle the formation. Her estoc whispered through the air, leaving faint crimson distortions that snapped shut with the sound of shattering glass. Her silver eyes never blinked, and her voice remained silent as she cut them down.
Between these two titans, the army advanced quickly. The elites marched close, their spells flaring in bursts of flame, lightning, and ice to clear clusters of goblins. The disciplined lines of spearmen and shield-bearers followed, cutting down whatever slipped past.
Still, even in this slaughter, goblins kept coming.
---
By the time they reached the first wide chamber of the cave, the army realized what they had walked into.
It was a nest.
The cavern stretched high and wide, filled with crude huts of bone, hide, and mud. Fires burned in pits, black smoke staining the stalactites above. Goblins swarmed out of every passage, shrieking. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Hobgoblins banged crude drums and raised jagged shields, roaring in challenge.
"Forward!" Captain Klein bellowed. His voice rang like steel. "Spread out! Cut them down!"
The elites raised their hands. Dozens of voices chanted in unison, the air trembling as they shaped their power. Flames erupted in roaring waves, lightning arced across the cavern, blades of wind carved through huts and bodies alike. The goblin nest burned.
The soldiers spread into squads, shields locking, spears thrusting. Each step forward cost blood, goblins flung themselves recklessly into spearpoints, hobgoblins hammered against shields. A handful of soldiers fell, crushed or torn apart, but for every one man down, a hundred goblins died screaming.
Angela stood at the center of the vanguard, carving a path with thunderous sweeps of her greatsword. Blood sprayed across her armor, her laughter booming like a drumbeat. "Faster! Don't slow! Trample them into the dirt!"
At the rear, Selvara darted from one cluster of goblins to another, her estoc piercing throats, eyes, and hearts in seamless rhythm. Lightning Veins sparked blue across her body, each fifth strike stunning her prey before she finished them with surgical precision. Soldiers whispered her name in awe.
---
Viscount Dell, Roderick, and Captain Klein advanced with the command staff at the center. Dell's lips curled as he surveyed the carnage.
"Curious," Dell muttered. "So many goblins… so many hobgoblins. Yet no orcs."
Klein's brow furrowed, his gauntleted hand gripping his sword hilt. "It makes no sense, my lord. Orcs do not usually abandon their lesser kin like this."
Roderick's voice was grim. "If they are not here, then they are elsewhere. And that should worry us more than this slaughter."
Dell clicked his tongue, displeased but silent.
---
The army pressed deeper. Blood ran down the stone, fires burned in patches, goblins shrieked and died. Hours seemed to pass in minutes until finally, they reached the deepest chamber.
The cavern was enormous, its walls cracked and veined with unnatural purple light. At its heart stood the realm break.
It pulsed like a wound in reality, its surface rippling purple and black. Veins of corruption spread along the stone floor, making the cavern shiver as if alive. Every few seconds, a new goblin tumbled out screaming, only to be cut down instantly.
Captain Klein's eyes narrowed. He raised his hand. "Mages! Surround it! Disrupt and seal it, now!"
Dozens of elites broke formation and rushed forward, forming a circle around the realm break. They thrust their staves into the ground, their voices uniting in a harsh chant. Symbols of light burned into the stone, weaving a net of power around the portal.
The realm break pulsed violently, as though resisting. The cavern shook, purple cracks spreading wider.
Then, slowly, agonizingly, the light dimmed. The rippling surface shrank, the veins of corruption receding into the ground. With a final shudder, the realm break snapped shut, leaving only scorched stone behind.
Silence fell.
One of the mages, sweat pouring down his face, began to laugh breathlessly. "So easy to disrupt and close… ha… and yet so fucking hard to open one."
A ripple of uneasy chuckles spread among the elites.
Captain Klein exhaled, lowering his sword. "Good. Spread out. Investigate every tunnel. I want no surprises."
The army moved to obey.
---
Viscount Dell approached the two women who stood watching the portal's end. Angela leaned casually on her bloodstained greatsword, her crimson braid plastered to her armor with sweat. Selvara stood silently beside her, her estoc clean despite the hundreds she had killed.
Dell stopped before them, studying them like a merchant eyeing jewels. His lips curved in a smile too smooth, too practiced.
"So," Dell said, his tone dripping with false warmth. "You two… mercenaries, yes? Name your price to serve under me. Gold, land, titles, whatever you desire."
Angela tilted her head, grinning with amusement. "And what makes you think we will serve under you?"
Selvara's silver eyes narrowed. Her voice was cool, flat. "We are not the ones who decide such things. Our leader decides. What we are, what we wield, even our lives… all of it belongs to him."
Dell blinked. The words unsettled him more than he expected. "Your… leader?"
Selvara gave the faintest nod. "Yes."
Dell's gaze lingered on them both, drinking in their beauty, their presence. His eyes dropped to Selvara's weapon, the Needlefang Estoc and for a heartbeat, his face betrayed lust and greed. He licked his lips.
"That sword," Dell said slowly. "Where did you find it? What lord or merchant could sell such a thing?"
Selvara met his gaze without flinching. "It was a gift. From our leader. As was all we are."
Dell's eyebrows lifted. His mind churned with calculation. Their leader, then… If I can reach him, convince him… perhaps one of these women will be mine.
He forced a smile back onto his face. "Then I will meet this leader of yours. Soon."
Neither Angela nor Selvara replied. Their silence was answer enough.
---
The army spent hours scouring the tunnels, but no orcs were found. Only the dead, only the remnants of goblin nests. Finally, Captain Klein called the retreat.
As they emerged back into the night, Dell's temper cracked. He spat into the dirt.
"Cursed vermin! The orcs must have retreated into the labyrinth. By now they're already on the surface, scattered. Hiding. Preparing. Cowards!"
Roderick's face tightened. "If they are in the surface tunnels, my lord, then they will spread… and carve new realm breaks elsewhere."
Dell snarled. "Send riders to the kingdom! Now! Tell them the orcs plan a mass break against Elarion itself."
Scouts galloped into the night. The rest of the army marched west, returning to Thornfield's village.
---
The return was grim. The villagers were already packed, their belongings on carts and backs. The moment Dell rode in, he lifted his hand.
"Evacuate immediately!" he commanded. "By dawn, no soul remains here!"
The villagers obeyed, falling into weary lines.
Among them walked Loid. He hung at the back, blending with the crowd, his hood low. But his attention was fixed on the glowing screen before him:
[ Reputation Coins: 30.40 ]
[ Reputation Points: 3306 ]
[ Units Owned: 2 ]
[ System Level: 2 ]
Loid's breath caught. "Over two thousand already…"
Angela and Selvara appeared at his side, silent guardians, blood still staining their armor and blades. Loid glanced at them, a faint smile touching his lips. "Well… you two killed a lot."
Before they could answer, Viscount Dell rode up. His eyes locked on Loid with sudden intensity.
"So," Dell said, voice sharp. "You're the leader they spoke of."
Loid hesitated, his mind racing. Then he exhaled slowly and nodded. "Yes."
Dell's smile spread, greedy and cold. "Then I will ask plainly: give me one of your women. In exchange, I will grant you a prize beyond imagining."
Angela's hand tightened on her greatsword. Selvara's silver eyes went flat. Loid's voice was steady, but cold. "Absolutely fucking not. Consider your proposal impossible."
Dell's jaw tightened. "Ten thousand coins," he pressed.
"No," Loid said without hesitation.
Dell's lips parted, ready to speak again until Loid cut him off. "We will excuse ourselves. There are matters to discuss in private."
With that, Loid turned. Angela and Selvara followed him, the three vanishing into the crowd.
Dell sat stiff on his horse, his face twitching with rage. His voice was a low snarl, unheard by all but the closest guards.
"Fucking bitch. I'll find another way."
---
A short distance away, Loid stopped, the two women at his sides. He opened his screen once more, the glow lighting his eyes.
He spoke softly. "You've both proven yourselves again and again. But I need to decide. Do I raise Angela to level six? Or summon a new comrade to join you?"
Angela smirked, resting her greatsword against her shoulder. "That choice is yours, commander. Whatever you decide, I'll break bones either way."
Selvara inclined her head, her voice calm. "The decision is yours. We are blades in your hand."
Loid sighed, rubbing his face. "Both of you are already capable… but a new comrade may help us, we just need about two thousand more reputation points... The more, the merrier."
The screen flickered in his vision, the choice waiting.
The march west began.
The night grew darker.
And somewhere far away, the orcs laughed in the shadows.