The battlefield lay still, save for the groans of the wounded and the distant cries of victory. The once-thriving plain was now a chaotic scene of death and destruction. The goblins had been crushed under the might of Arthur's forces, the ground painted red with the blood of the fallen. Bodies littered the field, and the sounds of dying echoes filled the air.
But Arthur was not one to revel in the bloodshed. His focus remained sharp as he surveyed the aftermath. His warriors had fought with unrelenting precision, every swing, every spell, every strike calculated and deadly. The battle had been hard-fought, but it had ended in a decisive victory for Arthur and his heroes. Yet, despite the carnage, Arthur knew the work was far from over.
The goblins were still fleeing.
Arthur's gaze drifted across the battlefield, and his eyes locked onto the remnants of the goblin forces that were attempting to escape. They were disorganized, panicked, their formation shattered. Their once-proud warriors scattered in every direction, trying to find safety in the woods, trying to find refuge behind the hills, but there was no escape.
"Not one will leave this field," Arthur murmured under his breath.
He raised his hand, and the signal went out—swift and decisive.
The Silver Storm Unit, led by Ronan, immediately surged forward.
Ronan, perched high on his warhorse, surveyed the remaining goblins with a predator's gaze. His soldiers, the finest cavalry in all the lands, were ready to fulfill their commander's orders. With a sharp gesture, Ronan led the charge. His lance gleamed under the dying sun as he shouted, "Form up, cavalry! They are ours for the taking!"
The cavalry moved with ruthless efficiency. Each knight in Silver Storm Unit was trained for this very moment: to hunt down those who dared flee the battlefield, to ensure no enemy was left alive. The rumble of thundering hooves filled the air as the knights broke from the formation and rode across the open field like a wave of destruction.
The goblins had barely enough time to react. Some turned, their faces twisted in terror, while others tried to scramble toward the woods in desperate hope. But it was too late.
Ronan's Gallant Charge surged forward with crushing force, the momentum of his cavalry unstoppable. With each passing second, the fleeing goblins were mowed down. The Silver Storm knights were swift, too swift for the goblins to even react, cutting through the stragglers like a scythe through wheat.
The clash of steel against bone rang out as Ronan's lance found its mark in the chest of one goblin. The body crumpled to the earth, and Ronan didn't slow for a second. His steed bore him forward, and he swung his sword with deadly precision, cleaving through the next goblin who dared stand in his path. With each kill, the Silver Storm Unit pushed forward, relentless in their pursuit.
The goblins scattered in all directions, but they were no match for the disciplined cavalry. The once proud warriors were now prey, their lives extinguished one after another. Ronan's battle-focused mind saw nothing but the mission: to eliminate every last goblin.
He rode hard into the thick of the enemy, his lance striking down the final few that had not yet met their end. His men followed in his wake, picking off stragglers and ensuring no one was left standing. The Gallant Charge was not a mere attack—it was a force of nature, unstoppable and overwhelming.
One goblin vice commander, Kaldor, was still trying to escape. He crawled, blood pouring from the gashes on his body, his breath ragged, but his determination to survive burned in his eyes. His armor was battered, and his body was broken, but Kaldor still believed he could escape, still thought he might have a chance.
But it was futile.
Ronan saw him and spurred his horse forward. The distance closed in an instant, and with a roar, he brought his lance down, piercing Kaldor's back, but stopping just short of his heart. It was a fatal blow, but Ronan knew the goblin vice commander was too important to die just yet.
"Alive," Ronan muttered to himself, his voice cold as he dismounted from his horse. He knelt beside Kaldor, his gaze as sharp as his blade.
"Make sure he stays breathing," Ronan ordered his men.
A few of his knights quickly grabbed the goblin and bound his hands, making sure the vice commander would not escape. They propped him up, but only barely. Kaldor's defiant glare never wavered, even as blood poured from his wounds.
Arthur watched the scene unfold from a distance, his face impassive. Victory was all but assured now, but he could sense the weight of the moment. He had ordered that none of the enemies should escape, and Ronan had made sure that was the case.
"Not one will be spared," Arthur said, almost to himself.
His voice carried, and soon, his soldiers began to cheer.
"Victory!" they shouted in unison. "For lord Arthur!"
The cheers rang out across the battlefield, and Arthur's soldiers raised their weapons in salute. They had fought hard, and they had won. But for Arthur, the victory was bittersweet. The goblin forces had been shattered, yes, but he could feel the presence of something more ominous looming on the horizon. He needed answers, and Kaldor was the key.
As the soldiers celebrated, Lily, the mage, approached Arthur. Her usual gentle demeanor had shifted slightly, as she understood the weight of the moment. She nodded to him, her voice soft but firm.
"You've done well, my lord. But now, the real work begins," Lily said, her violet eyes gleaming with quiet resolve. "The goblin vice commander may have information that could change the course of our campaign."
Arthur nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze still fixed on the bloodied Kaldor.
"I know," he replied, his voice low. "And I intend to get every last bit of information out of him."
The soldiers continued to cheer, but the attention was now turning back to the prize of the battle—the captured goblin vice commander. George, standing tall with his massive sword at his side, joined Arthur as the cheers died down. His eyes were filled with pride, but there was a hint of concern too.
"My lord, The goblins won't let this defeat go easily," George said, his voice steady. "We've won today, but tomorrow could bring something worse."
Arthur's gaze never wavered from Kaldor.
"I'll be ready for them," Arthur said simply. "But first, we need to learn everything we can from this one."
The soldiers began to gather around Kaldor, their faces grim as they marveled at the sheer brutality of the battle. Diana, still covered in the blood of the fallen, stepped forward. She had been instrumental in dismantling the goblin forces, her silent, deadly precision taking down one enemy after another. Her eyes flicked to Kaldor, and her lips curled into a smile.
"You did well, Ronan," she said softly, her voice as cold as the shadows she commanded. "But I must say, I've always preferred dealing with the ones who try to run."
Ronan chuckled darkly. "I'll leave the running to you, Diana. You're better at it."
As the battle winds down, Alisha, who had been stationed on the edges of the battlefield to pick off any remaining goblins, approached Arthur. Her quiver was empty, and her bow was slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the area for any sign of trouble.
And then, finally, Blaze arrived, his footsteps slow but deliberate. His presence was like a weight on the air, a quiet power that radiated from him. His domain, Aegis of the Eternal Flame, had kept him untouched amidst the chaos. His calm, composed nature was a contrast to the frenzy of battle that had just unfolded.
"We've won," Blaze said softly. "But we've also sent a message. The dark city will know that we are not to be underestimated."
Arthur met Blaze's gaze and nodded.
"We've shown them what we're capable of," Arthur replied. "Now we prepare for the next battle."
As Kaldor was dragged away for interrogation, the soldiers continued to cheer. They had earned their victory. But even in the midst of celebration, Arthur's mind remained focused on the future. The victory today was only the beginning. The goblin threat had been neutralized, but the war was far from over.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the battlefield, Arthur knew that the days ahead would bring even greater challenges.