Elodie wasted no time explaining.
"The goblins appeared out of nowhere," she said, voice steady but tight. "They raided carriages first. Trade routes. Then houses on the outskirts." Her fingers clenched slightly. "There are too many of them. Some have already evolved into chiefs."
Aster's expression darkened.
"Goblin chiefs grow through kills," Elodie continued. "Other monsters. Their own kind. The more blood they spill, the larger they become. Stronger. Smarter."
She paused.
"There is a Head Chief."
The room seemed to shrink.
"It's massive," she said. "Larger than an orc. It wears a chain of skulls around its neck and carries a hammer carved from solid stone. One swing can flatten a barricade."
Silence followed.
Then Nikolai unrolled the map across the table.
The parchment snapped flat beneath his hands.
"We strike here," he said, tapping a marked village. "This is their next target. Based on the sightings, goblins were seen near homes last night. They test before they swarm."
His finger traced a clean, decisive line.
"We ward the village first. Force them to retreat." His eyes narrowed slightly. "They will flee toward their base. That's when we close in."
Another mark. Another decision.
"We surround the area with a barrier. No escape. No reinforcements." His voice never wavered. "We eliminate the horde and secure any hostages."
Efficient. Ruthless. Controlled.
Aster watched him in quiet awe.
There was no hesitation in Nikolai's movements, no uncertainty in his tone. This wasn't theory. This was memory. He had done this countless times before, and it showed in the ease of his posture, the calm in his eyes, the way the plan unfolded as naturally as breath.
Beside him, Elodie was already moving, relaying orders to the head knights and mages. Commands passed smoothly, voices overlapping in practiced harmony.
And somehow, without meaning to, Aster found himself stepping in sync with them.
Like he belonged there.
Like the battlefield was a language Nikolai spoke fluently… and Aster understood just well enough to follow.
They wasted no time.
The stables erupted into motion as doors were thrown open and lanterns swung, casting warm gold across polished wood and restless hooves. The scent of hay and leather filled the air, sharp and grounding.
Nikolai stopped before a black mare, tall and elegant, her coat so dark it swallowed the light. Her mane flowed smooth and pitch-black, every movement controlled and proud.
"Dima," Nikolai murmured.
The horse snorted softly and dipped his head. Nikolai patted his neck, the gesture familiar, earned.
Beside them, Elodie nearly ran to her mount.
A cream-colored horse stood waiting, mane pale and silky like spun moonlight. Elodie laughed outright, wrapping her arms around the horse's neck.
"Rosemary!" she shouted, resting her forehead against hers.
The horse responded immediately, nuzzling her back with a soft huff, as affectionate as a loyal hound.
Then Nikolai whistled.
A sharp, commanding sound.
Hooves thundered in reply as a wild brown horse burst forward, muscles coiled and eyes sharp. His mane was a darker shade of brown, untamed and restless.
"Spencer, halt," Nikolai ordered.
The horse skidded to a stop instantly, snorting in irritation.
Nikolai turned to Aster, handing him the reins. "You'll be riding him."
Spencer flicked his ears back, clearly unimpressed with the idea of a stranger.
"Easy," Nikolai said, patting the horse's neck. "You have no reason to complain. You run so fast the keepers can't even bathe you properly."
Spencer huffed and deliberately looked away.
Aster climbed up anyway, patting the horse's neck. "Don't worry. Ride how you want."
The gates opened.
Spencer bolted.
Wind tore past Aster's face as the horse surged forward like an unleashed storm. The world blurred. His eyes watered instantly.
"Wait, hold on!" Aster shouted, clinging desperately. "Not this fast!"
The ground vanished beneath them.
Within minutes, the village came into view. Too fast. Way too fast.
Aster panicked. "Please stop, Spencer!" he pleaded. "I'll give you extra snacks! Please don't throw me!"
Stalls and vendors loomed closer.
"Stop! Spencer, stop stop stop!!"
Then it hit him.
Nikolai's voice. The command.
"Spencer, HALT!"
The horse stopped dead.
Aster nearly flew forward but wrapped his arms around Spencer's neck just in time, breathing hard. He slid off shakily, legs wobbling, dizziness washing over him.
Moments later, the others arrived.
Nikolai was already laughing.
"You," Aster said, pale and nauseous, pointing at him, "did not tell me he was this fast!"
"Well," Nikolai replied calmly, "Spencer runs to test his riders." He tilted his head. "Looks like you passed."
Aster glared at him, fury simmering.
Elodie rolled her eyes as the two bickered, arms crossed.
Before either could escalate, footsteps approached. The village chief hurried toward them, bowing deeply as he greeted the group.
The warmth of humor faded.
They were here now.
The village guild hall buzzed like a disturbed hive.
Wooden beams creaked overhead, lanterns swinging gently as people moved in hurried clusters. Merchants whispered over half packed crates of fruit, the sweet smell of bruised apples mixing with raw meat and hay dragged in alongside livestock. Children clung to sleeves. Old men argued in low voices. Somewhere, a baby cried, sharp and thin, then was hushed.
"East side first." "No, bring them closer to the well." "Mind the sheep, mind the sheep!"
Carwell Hue led them through it all, his back bent but his steps steady, the weight of the village sitting squarely on his shoulders.
"Thank you for coming," the old chief said again, voice cracking despite his effort to keep it firm. "Please… this way."
Inside the guild's main chamber, the noise dulled but never vanished. It lingered beyond the walls, a restless murmur that pressed in from every direction. Long tables had been shoved aside to make room for maps and supplies. A single brazier burned in the center, its glow painting sharp shadows across armor and stone.
"It's an honor to stand before your majesties," Carwell said, bowing deeply. "I am Carwell Hue, village chief of Arwall."
Nikolai inclined his head once. Elodie offered a calm smile, the kind meant to steady shaking ground.
"They were seen last night," Carwell continued. "A boy spotted them near the treeline. Small goblins, creeping. At least ten. Others reported movement on both the eastern and western edges, like they were… measuring us."
The word hung heavy.
"They are many," the chief said quietly. "And I fear they will raid us soon. We entrust you with our lives."
"No need to worry, Chief Hue," Elodie said, her voice carrying without rising. "We'll handle this. Evacuate everyone to the center."
Nikolai unrolled the map across the table, stone weights pinning the corners. His finger traced swift, confident lines.
"They'll circle," he said. "They always do. Lay bear traps along these paths. We wait until night. Strike from behind." His eyes were cold, precise. "Some will flee. They'll run straight back to their lair. That's when we end it."
Carwell nodded, relief washing over his worn face. "Thank you… thank you."
They moved fast after that. Knights guiding families. Mages warding paths. Even the animals were herded inward, sheep bleating in confusion, carts creaking under hurried hands.
Then something tugged at Nikolai's coat.
He looked down.
A small girl stood there, fingers knotted in black fabric, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Her eyes were red, swollen, desperate.
"Mister…" she whispered. "Please bring back Spots."
Nikolai froze.
"He scratched and hissed at one of the goblins," she rushed out, words tumbling over each other. "He was protecting me that night. They took him. They ran."
A pair of hands lifted her gently.
"Anaïs," her mother murmured, holding her close. Her father bowed deeply, shame and grief lining his face. "Forgive us, Your Majesty. She lost her cat when the goblins were scouting near our home."
Anaïs leaned forward again, her grip loosening only enough to look at Nikolai's face.
It wasn't just a pet she'd lost.
It was warmth. Safety. A small brave thing that stood between her and the dark.
The chatter of the guild faded for a moment. Even the fire seemed to hush.
Nikolai straightened slowly.
"…I'll bring him back," he said at last.
Not loudly. Not ceremoniously.
But with the kind of promise that didn't bend.
After the evacuation, they waited.
The village that once breathed with chatter now lay hollow, doors yawning open, lanterns extinguished. The silence felt deliberate, like the world itself was holding its breath. Wind slid through empty streets, rattling loose signs and brushing against abandoned carts.
Darkness settled in fully.
Nikolai tapped Aster's shoulder.
When Aster turned, chains clinked softly as Nikolai lifted his hand. Everanth slid free, unbound at last, its surface catching faint starlight.
"I figured you'd fight more comfortably with this."
Aster's face softened into a smile, sudden and genuine, like meeting someone he thought he'd lost.
"Hello, Everanth."
The serpent stirred. It coiled around his arm, cool and familiar, tightening just enough to say I remember. I'm here.
Then came the sound.
Thud.
Another.
Heavy footsteps pressing into the earth.
"They're here," Elodie murmured.
From the far end of the street, shapes emerged. Dark green bodies melting out of shadow. Small goblins first, hunched and twitchy, clutching crude wooden batons, their sharp laughter slicing through the quiet as they prowled, sniffing, searching.
Behind them came the chiefs.
Six of them.
Tall. Massive. Built like walking walls of muscle and scarred hide. Tusks curled from their jaws, eyes glinting with ugly intelligence. Each step made the ground complain. They were twice, maybe three times Aster's height.
His grip tightened on Everanth.
Nikolai raised a fist.
Hold.
The goblins poured deeper into the village, greed and confidence carrying them forward.
Then the air shifted.
Runes flared.
Magical barricades snapped into place around the guild, sealing it in shimmering light.
Nikolai's fist dropped.
"Now."
The world exploded into motion.
Soldiers surged from the shadows. Steel rang. Goblins shrieked and roared, swinging wildly as disciplined lines cut through them. From the tower above, Elodie fired, her crossbow singing sharp infused with light. Each bolt struck true, punching through the chaos with merciless precision.
Aster moved.
Everanth flared with dark mana, energy rippling along its length. Aster darted left, then right, slipping between swings, blasting clusters of goblins apart with clean, slicing force. He didn't stop. Didn't hesitate.
Dark arcs carved through the night.
Nikolai watched him for half a second and smirked.
"So you weren't joking about doing this before."
"Don't just stand there," Aster shot back, breathless. "Do something!"
Nikolai laughed.
He lifted his hand.
Chains burst from the ground like awakened serpents, wrapping around goblins mid stride. They tightened, crushing bones , pinning limbs, coiling higher and higher until the creatures were silenced beneath their weight.
Aster stared, awe flashing across his face.
"…No wonder they call you the Death Chanter."
"Show off," he muttered.
Nikolai's smirk deepened.
Then the chiefs charged.
Aster launched himself forward, leaping high, Everanth blazing as he slashed down across a massive chest. The impact rattled his bones. A stone baton swung toward him, big enough to turn him into dust, but he twisted away at the last second, landing hard and rolling free.
Above, Elodie swore under her breath.
She fired.
A bolt of light tore through the air and struck a chief square in the head, dropping it like a felled tower.
"Thanks!" Aster shouted.
Nikolai answered by wrapping chains around two chiefs at once. Four coils. One motion.
He closed his fist.
The chains contracted.
The sound that followed was short and final.
Together, Aster and Nikolai cut through the rest. Steel, shadow, and chain moving in brutal harmony until only one chief remained, wounded and terrified, fleeing with the remnants of its horde.
They didn't let it get far.
Horses thundered from the stables.
Spencer surged forward the moment Aster mounted him, not wild this time but focused, driven. As if he understood