A few weeks later, a formidable contingent of 9,000 soldiers, led by Damian Vargas and accompanied by various nobles eager for glory, arrived at Merger. The addition of Merger's own 1,200-strong army brought their total force to 10,200.
Damian rode at the front, his eyes scanning the assembled troops. "This should be enough to crush any goblin threat," he thought, feeling a surge of pride and determination.
Margaret stood at the gates with Celeste, watching the soldiers march in. "It's an impressive force," she remarked, her eyes lingering on Damian.
Celeste nodded. "We need every single one of them if we're to push back the goblin horde and root out the mastermind."
As the soldiers set up camp, Alaric observed from a distance, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Perfect. Now we have the numbers. Let's see how they handle this."
Damian dismounted and approached his younger brother, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in his gaze. "So, little brother, you're the one who figured out the goblin movements?"
Alaric shrugged nonchalantly. "Someone had to. Glad you could finally join the fight."
Damian's expression tightened. "Let's hope your plan works. The Duke is watching closely."
Alaric nodded, his face serious. "It will work. Just make sure you follow my lead."
Margaret approached the brothers, her face a mask of determination. "We need to coordinate our forces. The goblins have been relentless, and we can't afford any mistakes."
"Agreed," Damian said, looking over the assembled troops. "Let's get to work."
For the next several days, the Vargas forces and Merger's army worked together, refining their strategy and preparing for the inevitable clash. The camp buzzed with activity as soldiers trained, supplies were organized, and battle plans were finalized.
In the midst of the preparations, Alaric found a moment to himself, tinkering with his remaining weapons. "This has to work," he thought, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. "If we fail, it's not just my reputation on the line—it's the safety of everyone here."
Meanwhile, Celeste and Margaret reviewed maps and reports, their faces etched with concern. "The goblin horde is massive," Celeste murmured. "Even with our combined forces, this won't be easy."
Margaret nodded. "But we have Alaric's intelligence and our soldiers' skill. We'll find a way to win."
As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the camp, the troops gathered for a final briefing. Damian stood at the front, his voice steady and commanding. "Tomorrow, we face a great threat. But we are strong, and we are ready. Follow your orders, trust your comrades, and we will emerge victorious."
The soldiers cheered, their voices ringing out in the evening air. Alaric watched from the sidelines, a sense of anticipation and determination filling him. "This is it," he thought. "The moment we've been preparing for."
With their spirits high and their resolve unshaken, the combined forces of Vargas and Merger prepared to face the goblin horde, ready to fight for their lives and their future.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the battlefield as the assembled armies of Merger and the Vargas forces stood in disciplined ranks. The soldiers were lined up with precision, their armor gleaming in the daylight. The cavalry units, powerful and ready, were stationed at the rear, while battlemages, their robes fluttering in the breeze, stood at the back, their hands crackling with latent magical energy.
The tension in the air was palpable, a mixture of anticipation and dread. The soldiers exchanged nervous glances and whispered reassurances, their eyes fixed on the dense forest ahead. Every footstep seemed to echo as the entire force waited in a tense silence, broken only by the occasional clatter of armor and the murmured commands of the officers.
Suddenly, the stillness was shattered by the guttural snarls and shrill, high-pitched cries of the goblins emerging from the forest. It was as if the very trees were coming alive with the noise. The goblins surged forward like a green, undulating tide of chaos. Their numbers were staggering, an endless wave of malice and fury that rolled toward the well-organized ranks of the human army.
The goblins, with their twisted faces and crude weapons, seemed almost feral in their advance. They carried makeshift shields and rusted blades, their eyes glinting with a wild, malevolent light. The front lines of the human army braced themselves, the clatter of weapons and the sharp commands of their leaders breaking the tense silence.
At the front of the line, Damian Vargas stood tall and resolute, his armor polished to a mirror sheen. He raised his sword high, the blade catching the sunlight. "Hold your positions!" he shouted, his voice ringing with authority. The soldiers, though nervous, obeyed without hesitation, their shields raised and weapons at the ready.
Beside him, Margaret Karmon's face was set in a mask of determination. She gripped her sword tightly, her eyes scanning the advancing horde. The battlemages behind her began to chant, their voices rising in a rhythmic incantation. The air around them shimmered with arcane energy, their magic preparing to unleash a torrent of destruction.
As the goblins drew closer, the cavalry units shifted restlessly, their horses snorting and stamping. The cavalrymen, poised and ready, waited for the signal to charge. The tension was nearly unbearable, every soldier on edge as the monstrous tide approached.
The goblins' advance was halted by a sudden blast of magical fire from the battlemages. The flames roared across the front lines, scorching goblins and sending their shrieks echoing through the forest. The goblins faltered, but only for a moment. Their sheer numbers seemed to absorb the blast, and they pressed forward, a relentless tide of green.
Damian, seeing the goblins' unyielding advance, gave a sharp command. "Prepare for combat!" The soldiers braced themselves as the goblins closed the distance. The first clash was violent and immediate. Goblins and humans collided in a frenzy of steel and rage. The air was filled with the clang of weapons and the cries of battle.
The cavalry, sensing the moment to strike, spurred their horses forward, charging into the goblin ranks with a thunderous roar. The hooves of the horses pounded the ground, and the cavalrymen swung their lances with deadly precision. The goblins, momentarily stunned by the charge, scattered, but the cavalry pressed on, cutting down those that remained in their path.
On the battlefield, Margaret led a group of soldiers in a coordinated push against the goblins. Her sword flashed as she cleaved through enemy after enemy, her movements precise and deadly. The soldiers followed her lead, forming a tight defensive line to hold back the relentless assault.
The battlemages continued their spellcasting, sending waves of magical energy across the field. Explosions of fire and bursts of lightning illuminated the battlefield, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the combatants. The goblins, undeterred by the magical onslaught, pressed forward, their numbers seemingly endless.
Despite the chaos, the human forces fought with discipline and determination. The soldiers held their ground, their training evident in every swing of the sword and every thrust of the spear. The cavalry's charge had disrupted the goblin ranks, but the goblins regrouped and continued their assault with frenzied intensity.
As the battle raged on, the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a harsh light on the scene of conflict. The forest around them seemed to close in, the trees a dark, ominous backdrop to the struggle unfolding before them. The sounds of battle were a cacophony of violence—clashing steel, roaring flames, and the guttural cries of the goblins mingling with the shouts of the soldiers.
The fighting was fierce and relentless, but the human forces remained steadfast. The goblins, despite their numbers, began to falter under the unyielding pressure. The cavalry's repeated charges, the battlemages' devastating spells, and the soldiers' disciplined defense started to turn the tide.
Slowly but surely, the goblins began to retreat, their advance stymied by the determined resistance of the human forces. The once overwhelming tide of green began to wane, and the battlefield, though still chaotic, showed signs of shifting in favor of the defenders.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the field, the human forces continued their assault, pushing the goblins back with renewed vigor. The battle was far from over, but the tide had turned. The once seemingly invincible goblin horde was being driven back, step by bloody step.
The clash of battle raged on, a testament to the resolve and bravery of the human forces as they fought to protect their homes and their lives from the relentless onslaught of the goblin horde.