Path of Dragons-Chapter 66Book 9: : Downfall

Six hobgoblins closed on the ogre, spears at the ready. Each one moved with sinuous agility, their footsteps light and their muscles bunched. By comparison, the ogre was like a mountain with a studded club – a titan by most measures and as durable as that label would imply. The differences didn’t end there, either. The hobgoblins were lightly armored in hardened leather, and their faces twisted into expressions of cruel bloodlust.

Meanwhile, the ogre’s armor was jagged and bulky, freshly forged slabs of rust-red metal, unrefined but effective. His club was the size of a tree trunk, with bands of thick iron wrapping around the head. His face was twisted as well, though instead of cruelty or bloodlust, his expression was one of arrogance and disdain. Ogres were, as a rule, a prideful people, and this one was no exception.

The hobgoblins struck as one, closing on the mountainous ogre like the lightning that periodically fell from the sky. They moved like striking snakes, though with the instinctive coordination of a feral wolfpack. Two went low. Two others went high. The remaining hobgoblins came in from the sides, aiming for the much larger figure’s torso.

The clang of metal on metal filled the air, joining the cacophony that blanketed the rest of the battlefield. The ogre’s armor held, but each strike dragged a sizable groove in the red iron plates cladding his bulky body.

The hobgoblins circled, their war-bound instincts driving their perfect technique. Their feet barely touched the churned and muddy turf as they stepped in pools of blood and rain. Bodies – ogre and hobgoblin alike – lay all around. Obstacles on the otherwise flat plain.

None of the combatants paid them any attention.

For all that they were parts of separate armies, they were individuals as well. Once fallen, their comrades meant nothing. Friendships were rare among them. Relationships were instead built upon competition and necessity. There was no camaraderie. No bond between soldiers. The hobgoblins cared for only one thing – killing the enemy and proving their worth. The ogres had a similar attitude, though theirs was centered on superiority. Of their species first. Then, their clan. And finally, of each individual.

Similar but distinct.

That was the story of the ogres and hobgoblins, and it was the reason they’d warred themselves to extinction.

But that was in the real world.

In the Primal Realm known as the Endless War, they were alive and well. They thrived, with numbers reaching into the tens of thousands. And Sadie knew that if they didn’t hate one another at least as much as they wanted to repel the humans in their midst, she and her comrades from Svotogorsk would never have survived even a day.

The lesson wasn’t lost on her. If Earth stood any chance of thriving in a post-World Tree universe, they needed to work together. There was strength in cooperation. The second they let their petty differences affect their actions and force them into fighting one another, they would fall.

For now, though, she and her army watched from afar as a hundred individual battles played out only a mile away.

She watched as those six hobgoblins continued to harass the ogre. He was slower. Bulkier. And the squad of hobgoblins knew it. However, all it took was a single misstep, and they would be at his mercy. Sadie had experienced that herself, and she had the scars to prove it.

Then, one such mistake occurred. It was nothing more than a simple stumble. Barely even a false step. But that was enough to give the ogre an opening. Foregoing his club, he simply reached out with his meaty hand and grabbed the comparatively thinner hobgoblin around the waist. The enemy fought back. Of course he did. Stabbing the ogre over and over again in the wrist, he even managed to draw some blood.

But then, the ogre squeezed.

A mile away, Sadie thought she could hear the crunch of bone as the hobgoblin’s hips collapsed under such immense pressure. She winced as she remembered having her leg shattered by just such a move. It had been healed – though not without a significant investment of ethera from one of her army’s best Healers – but she still felt the ghost of that pain every single time it rained.

And in the Endless War, that was almost every day.

The troop of hobgoblins didn’t ignore the opening provided by their fellow’s demise, and they attacked with controlled furry. From recent experience, Sadie knew that they wouldn’t necessarily target vital areas. Instead, they preferred to attack in whatever way would be most painful.

And they knew those quite well.

Sadie even suspected that they had some sort of extra sense for it. Or maybe a hereditary skill. One way or another, they never failed to inflict as much torment as possible.

Sadie had been on the receiving end of those sorts of attacks as well. Everyone in her army had.

The ogre used the pain to his advantage, driving him forward with renewed strength. Even as his blood joined the rain coating his armor, he lashed out. Not with his club, but rather, with the hobgoblin’s limp body. The creature was still alive and flailing when he swung his body like a fleshy weapon.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

That didn’t last long.

Sadie didn’t know if the impromptu weapon was merely overcome by unconsciousness or if he’d died. At least not at first. After a few blows that sent members of the hobgoblin troop staggering backward, she knew the creature’s fate. Even with enhanced attributes, no one was surviving that.

The rest of the fight went much as she had expected it to. It was a well-established norm that it took six hobgoblins to match a single ogre. For humans, the number was higher. Ten would win the battle. A mixed group of fifteen was all but a guarantee that they would do so without casualties. Five frontline combatants with defensive classes. Two combat Healers. The rest ranged fighters – preferably mages.

That wasn’t always possible, though. It was especially difficult to carefully curate their combatants in the middle of a battle. Still, over the past few months, they’d endeavored to do just that. The process of retraining and reorganizing the army had not been easy, and it certainly hadn’t been without casualties. However, by this point, the force had become a well-oiled machine.

And not just because of better strategy. Nor was it due to increased understanding of the terrain or enemies. Not completely. Rather, every single member of the army had progressed by leaps and bounds.

Outside, they might have managed to get five or six levels in that time, and only if they devoted themselves to running towers. However, there were some people who’d gotten ten levels since they’d first stepped foot into the Primal Realm. It was incredibly rapid progression, and the improvement showed. Sadie even thought that a few of them might reach the point of ascendence by the time they completed their onerous task.

But those outliers weren’t the ones that made the most difference. Rather, the progression of the army’s average level was what truly affected their expectation of success. Once they were finished, there was a good chance that Svotogorsk would become the world’s most powerful army.

Which was a little worrying, considering how aggressive they tended to be. Most of them had adapted to the conflict attunement that blanketed the area around the Primal Realm, and as such, they were quite warlike. If someone wasn’t there to keep them in check, then they could become quite a problem.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine them going the way of the ogres or hobgoblins and setting themselves on the path of conquest.

Fortunately, there were people to oppose them should that happen. Not only was Elijah still out there, but Sadie herself had also made as significant progress as anyone in the Primal Realm. She suspected that if she, Ron, Elijah, and Kurik were to face off against the entirety of the army, they could fight them at least to a draw.

And that wasn’t even considering how much Elijah had progressed since she’d last seen him. Doubtless, he’d gotten himself into some sort of trouble, and knowing him he’d come out of it head and shoulders above everyone else in the world. His indomitability – or sheer stubborn refusal to quit – was one of the reasons she was so drawn to him.

Either way, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. While she hadn’t made any real friends – except for Jari – she knew enough of the soldiers by name that she would feel more than a little remorse if she was forced to kill them all. Thankfully, Jari was there.

The man was as steady and pragmatic as they came, and what’s more, he didn’t revere violence. He was good at it – one of the best Sadie had seen – but the big Finn preferred peace. That gave her hope that Svotogorsk wouldn’t fall into the same trap that had driven the hobgoblins and ogres to extinction.

But for now, she couldn’t worry about the future. Instead, she recognized the opportunity before her.

Even as the battle between the hobgoblins and ogres continued, she raised her hand and said, “Charge.”

Jari, who stood beside her, signaled to one of the army’s Tacticians, who gave the silent order. The ability to communicate without raising banners or shouting orders was invaluable, though it only affected the official members of the army.

That did not include Sadie.

There were other limitations – like the number of people a single Tactician could support without bottoming out their ethera – but at least they didn’t possess any sacrificial skills. Instead, the buffs they provided were entirely beneficial.

The army shifted, separating into groups of fifteen. The defenders took the lead as they trotted toward the battle, with the healers and ranged combatants taking up the rear. The squelch of boots in mud drowned out the sound of heavy rainfall, and once everyone was on the move, Sadie and Jari followed along with the Tacticians.

“I hate this,” she muttered.

“It is necessary. If we lose the Tacticians, we will fall.”

“I know,” she growled, trotting beside him. As much as she wanted to join the front lines, Jari was right. Protecting the Tacticians – and the Healers and Sorcerers if necessary – was paramount. And so long as everything went to plan, they wouldn’t need her intervention.

In addition to guarding against an ambush on the back lines, Sadie was there to jump in if they encountered a champion. If that happened – as it often did – she and Jari would take the lead. If they left it to the rest of the army, many would die.

As it turned out, the attack was timed perfectly, and Sadie’s intervention was entirely unnecessary. The front lines swept in, attacking the distracted enemies with ruthless precision. In the meantime, the ranged attackers – comprised of Rangers with bows and mages slinging powerfully destructive spells – buried the opposing forces in a deluge of attacks. Some were deadly, but most simply added to the confusion and set them up for close-quarters execution.

In all, the battle went as well as Sadie could have hoped, and there were only a few casualties.

It wasn’t unreasonable to expect, but it was nice to see things work out. Any other time, she might have lamented the loss of personal experience. After all, she hadn’t really done anything during the fight. However, she’d already progressed to the point where a few measly kills of footsoldiers would offer negligible progression. To truly make any gains, she needed to fight the commanders and champions.

Unfortunately – or perhaps luckily, given how dangerous such enemies could be – there had been only a few powerful foes in the army. And they had finished one another off before Sadie even gave the order to charge.

Still, hanging back was not in her nature.

The entire Primal Realm was a font of experience, but the true benefit was that it provided a perfect opportunity for cultivation. Already, quite a few people had made progress with their cores, minds, and souls. So, after they’d picked through the bodies and retreated to their camp, Sadie settled down in her tent to work on her own soul.

She’d made some headway already, but she needed something more to truly make the leap. Not for the first time, she felt a stab of envy. Elijah never seemed to have much issue with cultivation. By comparison, her own strides forward were few, far between, and difficult.

But if nothing else, Sadie was stubborn. She refused to accept defeat. So, tuning the rest of the camp out, she sank deep into meditation.

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