Evelyn's POV
The Adventurer Guild reacted faster than I expected. By the time we arrived, Alice explained that as soon as her letter reached them, they had mobilized every adventurer they could gather. What I saw before me was no longer a simple subjugation mission—it was a war.
The battlefield was chaos. At the rear lines, towering ten-foot mobile platforms rolled forward, each carrying archers and mages raining destruction from above. Around twenty of these siege towers pushed steadily across the field, surrounded by phalanxes of fighters with shields and spears to protect them from any goblins that slipped through. At the front, rows of warriors clashed in brutal melee combat against the endless tide of goblins.
After a brief conversation with the guild commander, Alice suggested we split up according to our fighting styles. As a warrior, Arthur belonged at the front lines. I guided my copy toward the heart of the battle.
That was when I saw him.
The Goblin King emerged from the horde, towering only five feet tall yet radiating a crushing presence. He wore heavy armor, a battered crown perched mockingly on his head, and carried a sword in each hand. His crimson eyes locked onto me.
I dashed forward, conjuring a spear of pure mana and hurling it straight at his face. The king crossed his blades with surprising speed, deflecting the strike—exactly as I intended. The instant of distraction was all I needed.
Arthur closed the distance, my greatsword already swinging. The upward slash caught him across the midsection, lifting his small body into the air. Before he could land, I drove a brutal kick into his chest, sending him crashing across the ground.
He scrambled up just in time to meet my next attack. I brought my greatsword down in a crushing overhead strike. He crossed his blades to block, but I channeled mana into the weapon, doubling its weight. The impact slammed into his right shoulder with a sickening crack. His arm went limp instantly.
The Goblin King staggered back, panic flashing in his eyes. He leapt away to create distance—but that sealed his fate. I conjured a massive fireball and hurled it into his chest. The explosion ripped through his armor, shattering it into smoking fragments and leaving him half-burned, his crown tumbling into the dirt.
With a roar, he lunged at me, swinging wildly with his remaining sword. I planted my greatsword into the ground, conjured another mana spear in a blink, and thrust it forward. The spear pierced his skull cleanly.
The Goblin King fell where he stood.
For a moment, silence swallowed the battlefield. Adventurers and goblins alike froze, their eyes locked on the corpse of their fallen ruler. Then, as the reality settled, the tide shifted. Half of the goblin army dropped their weapons and surrendered. The other half broke ranks, fleeing into the wilderness.
The Adventurer Guild hadn't come here to slaughter every last goblin—they had come to end the war. And with their king dead, the war was over.
Without ceremony, I withdrew Arthur from the front lines and began searching for Alice and her companions.