The effect of the death of an orc shaman was immediate. A third of the goblins faltered, confusion breaking their cohesion. Some turned back to the forest, shrieking as they fled the battlefield. Others, freed from control, hurled themselves at the war orcs and trolls. Chaos erupted, and in the madness, over fifty goblins fled. Another thirty fell upon their supposed masters, bringing down two war orcs before the remaining shamans regained partial control.

  It wasn’t enough to turn the tide, but the temporary goblin revolt bought precious time. On the wall, the defenders tightened their grips on spear shafts and bows. Fear rippled through them like a chill wind.

  “They’ll smash us flat!” one of the younger men on the palisade shouted, panic cracking his voice.

  “Steady!” roared the elder, raising his gnarled staff high so that all along the palisade could see him. His voice carried, ragged but strong, as if he poured the weight of his years into every word. “You’ve stood against bandits, famine, and fire. You’ve bled for this village, and you’ll bleed again tonight. But remember…” He looked at the young man who was on the verge of fleeing. “This is our home. No green-skinned filth will tear it from us while breath still fills our lungs!”

  A ragged cheer went up centred around the elder; it was desperate yet fierce. Men and women slammed spear butts against the wooden wall.

  On the frontline, William lit his sword, [Divine Fire] flaring bright against the night as the horde bore down on them.

  The first line of goblins smashed into the barricades. Spears thrust, steel clashed, and the air filled with shrieks. A goblin clambered over the wood and lunged for a villager’s throat. William’s sword caught it mid-leap, fire slicing through bone and flesh. Blood sprayed hot across his gauntlet. Another goblin followed, and another, each one cut down but replaced by two more.

  “Hold the line!” William shouted, his throat raw. “We can do this!”

  The ground shook as the worg riders returned, a score and more, their beasts snarling, eyes glowing with feral hunger. Some bore half-healed wounds, bandaged with strips of bloody rags, but they came on all the same. Arrows and stones met them, felling a few, but most thundered straight for the weakest point in the defences. Villagers cried out as worgs hurled themselves against the barricades, teeth snapping, claws tearing. Riders leaned low with hooked blades, slashing at the defender’s arms and throats.

  Marie cut two from their saddles in quick succession, her sword flashing in the torchlight. A worg lunged at her, its jaws wide, but she ducked aside and stabbed deep into its ribs. The beast fell, dragging its rider down with it. She yanked her blade free, and blood splashed across her cheek as she raised her sword to block another blow.

  On the left flank, Fredric skewered a goblin through the gut, but the rider’s worg crashed into him. He stumbled, but raised his spear just in time to block the snapping jaws. A villager at his side jabbed a pitchfork into the beast’s flank, buying him the moment to drive his now broken spear shaft through its throat.

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  Sibrek laughed like a madman, swinging his axe in brutal arcs. One goblin’s head flew clean from its shoulders, another split from collar to hip. “Aye. Come closer, ye green-skinned buggers. I’ll chop ye down like saplings!”

  But for every half-dozen victories, there was a loss. A farmhand screamed as a goblin’s rusted blade opened his belly, his intestines spilt out into the mud. Another defender was hurled aside, skull crushed beneath a war orc’s club. The creature roared, towering over the fallen, and ploughed into the line with terrifying force. Spears bent and splintered against its hide, and its club smashed through men and wood alike.

  “War orcs!” someone cried in terror as he turned and ran.

  William’s sword swung in a wide arc, carving through three goblins at once. Their shrieks were swallowed by the roar of battle, their smoking corpses falling at his feet as he received another [XP: +1] notification. He turned just in time to see a war orc bearing down on him. The brute towered over the lesser goblins, its tusked mouth twisted in a savage snarl, eyes burning with bloodlust. The iron-banded club it carried was as thick as a tree limb and studded with jagged rivets, a weapon meant not merely to kill but to pulverise.

  “Come on then,” Will growled, shifting his stance, the flames of his sword painting his now blood-soaked armour in flickering lights. “Let’s see what strength your evil gods have given you.”

  “Human, stupid!” the orc bellowed and charged, the ground trembling beneath its feet. It swung its club in a crushing downward arc, and Will threw himself aside just in time. The impact split the packed earth, sending shards of stone and dirt flying.

  William slashed back, his sword searing a deep line across the orc’s chest, leaving behind exposed ribs which sizzled from the heat. The beast roared, the stench of burning flesh rising, but it only seemed to feed its fury. It swung again, this time a brutal sideways sweep. Will pulled a shield from his spatial storage and met it head-on; the shield bent as iron struck steel with a screech of sparks.

  [Warning: Major Fatigue 50%]

  The force of the blow rattled his arms and drove him to one knee. Damn! I’d pay a King’s ransom for my [Divine Shield] right now. Though it had a five-minute cooldown, it was perfect for fights like this; it would absorb heavy hits for ten seconds. He pictured his [Divine Shield] forming around him, but nothing happened.

  Around them, the battle raged. Goblins hurled themselves against the tired defenders, screaming as they were speared and cut down. Yet all Will could see was the war orc before him, a mountain of muscle and hate.

  The orc raised its club once more, but this time, William moved first. He surged forward, closing the distance before the beast could swing, and drove his weight through the buckled shield into its gut. The orc staggered back a step, surprised by the sudden ferocity. Will followed with a slash aimed at its neck, but the orc brought up its thick arm to block; its flesh sizzled as the flames bit deep.

  The brute roared and backhanded him with such force that, despite blocking the blow with the shield, he felt his ribs crack beneath his armour. He crashed into the bloody mud, the breath driven from his lungs.

  [Warning: Minor Injury 71%]

  The club rose above him like the shadow of death. “Die!” the orc roared.

  “No!” William rasped, forcing himself to roll aside as the weapon smashed down, missing him by inches. He came up to one knee, coughing blood and thankful for the 10% recovery of his Agility stat. Thrusting his blade upwards, the sword pierced through the orc’s inner thigh, severing muscle and ligaments.

  The beast bellowed in agony as it dropped to its knees while swinging wildly. William ducked low, circling to its flank. He could feel the heat of his own sword blazing hotter, the holy flame answering his will. He raised it high, two hands gripping the hilt, and struck with every ounce of his strength.

  The blade sheared through the orc’s neck in a burst of fire and sparks. For a heartbeat, the kneeling body swayed before the head toppled free and the brute collapsed like a felled tree.

  [XP: +5]

  Chapter 032 [Mini Boss Battle: War Orc Champion]