The ground trembled beneath the weight of George Tyson's armored boots as he stood at the front lines, the wind howling through the battle-scarred field. His towering frame, clad in the gleaming black and silver armor of the Bronze Steel Unit, stood resolute like an immovable mountain. Around him, his soldiers moved with practiced precision, each member of his unit ready for the brutal task ahead.
The distant roars of the approaching goblins echoed across the plains as George glanced over his shoulder at his commanders—Voloric and Richard. Their eyes met, and a single nod passed between them. There was no fear in his gaze, only the burning fire of a warrior who had faced death and come out victorious time and again. Today would be no different.
George's grip tightened on his great sword, the blade humbling even the fiercest of warriors. The aura of a hero, strong and unwavering, radiated from him like a storm about to break. His skill, Hero's Blessing, had already spread over his unit, granting them enhanced strength and resilience. His soldiers' steps were more deliberate, their resolve firmer, their focus sharper.
He turned back toward the front, eyes scanning the horizon. The goblin forces had begun to march across the field, their monstrous forms a sea of bloodthirsty eyes and snarls. At the head of the goblin army, a Silver Rank Tier-8 goblin warrior, towering and fierce, held a massive axe in his hands. The goblin's armored hide gleamed darkly in the sunlight, and his bloodshot eyes burned with malice.
"Today, I will break you, fool," George muttered to himself, his voice low, like the growl of a beast about to be unleashed.
The ground beneath George's feet seemed to roar as the first wave of goblin soldiers rushed forward. The Bronze Steel Unit's formation held firm. Behind them, the Bronze Blade Unit took their position, and the Blood Knights readied their shields for the incoming assault.
The goblins charged with reckless abandon, screaming war cries that shook the air, their bloodlust apparent in every step. But George Tyson was not concerned. This was the moment he lived for—the rush of battle, the clash of steel, the feeling of his sword slicing through the chaos of war.
"Form up! Stand strong! Hold the line!" George roared, his voice carrying across the battlefield, filled with the weight of leadership and the promise of victory.
His soldiers echoed his command, their lines tightening as the first goblin ranks slammed into them. The impact was like the crashing of waves against rocks, but the Bronze Steel Unit held firm, their shields interlocking, their feet planted solidly into the ground. The first wave of goblins was halted before they could even breach the formation.
George's eyes glinted with satisfaction. "Now. Bring them to their knees!"
With a single, powerful motion, George lifted his great sword into the air. **"Wrath of Steel!"**
A surge of energy exploded from his body, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to shake as his sword swung down with the force of an avalanche. The sheer power behind the blow cleaved through the first wave of goblins, sending their bodies flying through the air, their screams cut short in an instant. The force of the attack sent shockwaves through the ranks of the goblin army, causing their advance to falter.
Behind George, the Bronze Steel Unit surged forward, their weapons raised in unison, cutting down the remaining goblins with brutal efficiency. The goblins tried to retaliate, but George's domain, Hero's Protection, enveloped his soldiers, shielding them from most of the incoming blows. The goblins were no match for the strength and coordination of George's unit.
But the goblin leader, the Silver Rank Tier-8 warrior, was not so easily deterred. With a guttural roar, the goblin swung his massive axe at George, the weapon crackling with dark energy. The air around them seemed to darken as the goblin charged, his every step shaking the earth.
George's eyes narrowed. "This one's mine," he muttered, stepping forward with a confident smirk.
The goblin's axe came crashing down toward him, but George was faster. He sidestepped with the agility of a panther, his sword flashing as it intercepted the blow. The sound of metal meeting metal rang out like thunder. Sparks flew from the point of contact, but George held his ground, his great sword gleaming brightly in the sunlight.
With a roar, George pushed forward, his immense strength throwing the goblin back.
"Great Sword Destruction!" he shouted.
The sword became a blur of motion, its weight and power amplified by George's domain. With a single, brutal strike, George cleaved through the goblin's axe and sliced into the creature's chest, his blade cutting deep into the goblin's armor. The goblin let out a final, gurgling scream as it crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The battlefield fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of the wind and the cries of the wounded. But George was already moving forward, his blood pumping with adrenaline as he swung his sword to clear the remnants of the goblin's blood from the blade.
"That's one down," George muttered, his eyes scanning the battlefield. The Bronze Steel Unit had taken the front lines, and now the goblins were beginning to retreat. Their once-confident charge had turned into a desperate scramble as they realized the strength of Arthur's forces.
George's eyes swept over the battlefield, and it was then that he noticed something that made his blood run cold. Near the eastern flank of the battlefield, a lone figure stood among the chaos, arrows flying with deadly precision. Alisha, the commander of the Bronze Starlight Unit, was cutting through the goblin forces like a whirlwind.
Her Phoenix Shot lit up the sky, leaving trails of fire in its wake as it tore through the goblin ranks. Each arrow she released was a pinpoint of destruction, effortlessly felling goblin leaders and captains as though they were nothing more than targets. Her movements were graceful and terrifyingly fast, her longbow an extension of her will.
George's eyes locked on her, watching as she took down one goblin captain after another. Her Rain of Arrows fell like a storm, her arrows striking with surgical precision and overwhelming force. Every time her arrows found their mark, another goblin captain fell, their bodies crumpling to the ground as the chaos of the battlefield erupted around her.
"Impressive," George murmured under his breath. The sight of Alisha's battlefield dominance filled him with respect. He could tell that she was handling things effortlessly, taking down multiple leaders at once, and her tactical brilliance was on full display.
Just as George turned to refocus on his own unit, the ground beneath him seemed to tremble again. This time, it wasn't from the goblins' charge—it was something much more dangerous.
A massive roar echoed through the battlefield, followed by the thundering stomp of approaching monsters. George turned to see a terrifying new enemy emerging from the smoke and dust—the Leader of the Large Monster Gathering Area, a colossal creature covered in jagged armor, its eyes burning with a malevolent red glow.
The creature's form was vaguely humanoid, but it was larger than any goblin he had faced. With every step it took, the earth beneath it cracked, its claws scraping the ground like steel. Its breath, hot and sulfurous, could be felt even from the distance.
George's jaw clenched. "Looks like the goblins were just the opening act. Time for the real fight," he said, his voice filled with a grim determination.
With a single, powerful motion, he raised his great sword once more, its tip pointing toward the approaching monster. "Forward!" he bellowed. The Bronze Steel Unit moved into position once again, their shields raised and their weapons ready for the fight of their lives.
But before they could move forward, George's sharp eyes caught another figure emerging from the smoke—the Commander of the Silver Blade Unit, Knuckle, standing tall and resolute as always. Knuckle was already charging toward the massive creature, his sword raised high.
"I'll handle this one, George!" Knuckle shouted, a fierce grin on his face.
George gave him a nod of respect. "Don't let it get the best of you, Knuckle!"
And with that, Knuckle charged forward, his Silver Blade Unit trailing behind him, ready to join the fight. The two commanders shared a brief, unspoken understanding. The war wasn't over yet—but Arthur's heroes would not let it be lost.
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