The cheers still echoed through the trees, even as Harold sat back down on a crate that had survived the worst of the fire. The smell of charred wood mingled with the metallic tang of blood in the air. The heat from the scorched earth radiated up through the soles of his boots, grounding him in the reality of the aftermath.
He let the noise wash over him for a few seconds longer — eyes half-closed, one hand still clutching the dagger he'd driven into the goblin commander's throat.
One of his bodyguards crouched nearby, face still tense, armor scuffed. The other stood, scanning the treeline like the battle wasn't over.
Harold glanced between them and gave a quiet exhale.
"You two made it through."
"We always do," the Ren said. "But you didn't wait for us this time."
Harold didn't answer at first. He hadn't meant to break away. He'd just seen Sarah about to die and moved.
"You'll need another shield," the Corwin added after a beat. His tone was clipped, but not cold. "That one's well and truly gone."
Harold grunted, looking down at his left arm — bruised, throbbing, but still usable. "Yeah, I'll need another. I'm sure there's one around here I can use."
"You're still alive," said the banner bearer, eyes on the treeline. "That's the part that matters. We tried to get to you, but the commander had hobgoblin guards of his own. They stalled us."
Then Ren looked up, jaw tight. "You shouldn't have fought him alone, my Lord. I'm sorry. We failed you."
Harold didn't reply. He hadn't fought that duel for glory. He just hadn't been able to let Sarah die.
Instead of answering, he blinked open his interface and swiped once, filtering the aftermath of the fight into view.
WORLD FIRST ACHIEVED!
Kill an Enemy Commander in One-on-One Combat.
PERK ACQUIRED
Challenger Perk – Level 1
Warrior Lord (Epic)
Army members deal +10% damage.Use 20% less mana when fighting enemy commanders.Enemy commanders are more likely to seek you out in battle.(Warning: This perk can be stolen if you are defeated in combat)SETTLEMENT MODIFIER UNLOCKED
Soldiers you recruit have a +10% easier time learning how to use mana.Training with your army enhances their progress by a variable amount.
PERK ACQUIRED
Trophy Kill (Uncommon)
Your army deals +5% damage to enemy commanders.PERK ACQUIRED
Disciplined Army (Rare)
Army-wide discipline increased by 8%.Harold let out a low breath.
"These are good. Very good."
He hadn't known about the world first — but it made sense.
Harold had no doubts about the uniqueness of his mana control at this stage. He'd triumphed in the duel, but only because he expended mana like water. The outcome had been precarious even with all those advantages. With the mana body, every drop of mana counted for more, extending his resources just enough to secure victory.
The Challenger perk worried him, though. Enemy commanders would seek him out, and the fact that it could be stolen? No wonder no one had posted about it on the forums. If you had it, you'd want to keep it a secret.
The training modifier was incredible. There were only two other perks he knew of that helped new soldiers learn mana use faster — and both were late-game. This shortcut was priceless.
The disciplined Army came from defeating a superior force. Getting the rare version meant this had truly been a battle they should've lost. Without the alchemical potions to blast open the goblin lines, they would have.
That hobgoblin commander…
"Was no joke."
Harold dismissed the screen and stood, slower this time. The potion had done its work, but his body still ached like something discarded and scraped back up again. It was too soon to take another.
All around him, the aftermath unfolded. Legionaries moved across the wreckage in small groups — checking for survivors, retrieving bodies, restacking what supplies they could. Some methodically looted goblin corpses. Others stood, leaning on bloodied shields, catching their breath.
One team rolled a scorched troll corpse into a pit. Another followed with torches. The smell would linger for days.
Off to the side, adventurers were already cutting usable pieces from the trolls. He'd have to see what ingredients they could salvage — there were valuable materials here.
A voice called out across the field.
"Lord Harold!"
Hale.
He strode through the wreckage with purpose, Garrick and Carter close behind. Hale's armor was dented, his baton tucked under one arm, a blood-smeared sword still at his hip.
"We've secured the field," he said, wasting no time. "Goblin force is broken. Evan's scouts are sweeping the rear. Casualties were lighter than I feared — your potions saved anyone not outright killed, but we are getting low. The berserkers did the most damage before we got them down."
Garrick nodded tightly. "We've begun sorting wounded. Tran has a triage ring near the center. Lost nine in my century. Two dozen injured, some serious — but we held our core."
Harold nodded. "And the supplies?"
Carter answered. "One wagon lost. Mostly gear and rations. Casualties about the same for my side."
Harold's voice dipped. "Tatanka?"
Carter's jaw tightened. "Lost one. Spooked and broke its leg trying to get loose. We had to put it down. The others are calm now."
Harold closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them again.
"Good work. All of you. That could've gone very differently."
Hale's gaze narrowed. "We saw you fighting him. That turned the line. That wasn't planned — but the men saw it. And they charged."
Harold felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. "I've never fought like that before," he said, honestly. "I was just reacting."
"You stood your ground," Garrick said. "That's enough. But I'm increasing your bodyguard detail. We can't let this happen again."
A quiet settled over them.
Then Hale lifted his slate. "We need to talk about next steps. Time's short."
Harold nodded, squared his shoulders, and asked, "Where's Evan?"
Carter hesitated. Then winced.
"I saw him fall, my Lord. A hobgoblin speared him from behind while he was fighting another. The adventurers took heavy losses. They're still regrouping."
Harold felt a stab of guilt as he recalled his last words to the man. He would have to apologize to him when he got back to the Landing. He was only able to generate one quest that would allow adventurers to join a campaign. As soon as the campaign started, the quest would lock and not allow any more adventurers to join. They could still, but they wouldn't have any respawn protection. At least the ones with the quest would respawn back at the Landing.
A somber silence passed.
Then again...
Harold's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
The bastard's probably enjoying a warm bath and stealing my coffee right now.
He knew he'd seen Evan eyeing the bag of roasted beans.
Harold exhaled, steadying himself.
"Okay. Find out who's next in charge of the adventurers," he said, voice sharpening again. "Then let's get to it."
The crate they gathered around was scorched but intact — splinters dark with soot, its metal bands warped from heat. It was just solid enough to serve as a makeshift table. Hale cleared the top with one swipe of his gauntlet, and Garrick laid out a slate etched with casualty tallies and a rough map of their current position.
Vera arrived a moment later, still wearing the torn half-cloak of her scout team, the edge charred. Her face was grim, and as she gave a short nod to Harold, she absently tapped the hilt of her knife, a gesture that seemed almost second nature when she was deep in thought.
"We've tallied the adventurers," she said, skipping pleasantries. "Five full teams left — but that's a stretch. Half of those are patched together from survivors."
Harold didn't flinch. "And the rest?"
"Dead. Probably respawned and enjoying a good meal at the Landing, minus a perk," she replied, bluntly. "I lost three of my own extended team. Evan's team lost 4 before he dropped."
Harold's jaw tightened. "You're senior now. Take charge. Pick the sharpest team leads you've got left and reorganize the rest under them. We'll be relying on you to scout and skirmish again tomorrow." Vera nodded once, her fingers still resting lightly on her knife, as if drawing strength from it.
Vera nodded once. "Understood."
Garrick tapped the slate. "We've also finished sorting the wounded. Of the two centuries, both lost a full squad, and another squad each is out of the fight. Can't hold a shield, can't walk."
"And Tribune Tran?" Harold asked, already knowing the answer.
Carter exhaled hard. "Only one of his men still breathes. They stood with you at the wagons, and the berserkers tore through them. Tran's still up, but his section's gone."
Harold's eyes flicked over the map, calculating.
"So we consolidate. Make a Prime Century—one double-strength formation — heavy, flexible. The rest pull back to fill out Tran's section. The wounded can help Tran as much as they can, but he will need people for his section."
Garrick nodded. "It'll be tight, but it'll work."
Hale pointed to the casualty slate. "Half of our wounded will be fight-ready after another potion dose. The others… they'll need time. Better ingredients. We don't have what you need out here to regrow limbs or fix deep trauma."
"Even if we did," Harold said, "I don't have time to brew them."
Silence stretched again before Carter spoke up.
"We can butcher the fallen tatanka, get everyone fed. That'll help morale. Let people sleep, repair the wagons, reorganize the gear. There are enough spears now that we can almost arm the whole century with them. A lot of them need new shields. Some need new swords. We leave again at first light?"
Harold looked at the sun and nodded. "That'll work. This was the toughest fight we've had so far. They need a little time."
They all agreed.
Vera leaned forward. "We've got enough teams to set up a full line of pickets. I'll put a team in the trees — if the goblins like using the canopy, we'll use it first."
Harold looked at her. "Good. I want tight spacing between the posts. We need a warning, but I also don't want anyone dying out there."
Hale added, "I'll get someone on the wagons now. The rear axle on one of them was nearly gone. We can strip spares from the burned one."
Harold turned back to Vera. "I'm giving you an open task — ingredient search. Take the teams that can move and sweep for the components we need for the fire potions. I've got a partial stock, but we need more if we want to throw another volley like that."
Vera gave a short nod. "You'll have them."
Harold reached for his satchel and unrolled a worn list. He passed it to her — scrawled names of mosses, glands, fungal bulbs, one noted only as "black bloom — reeks like tar." Most were rare. Some were dangerous to harvest but were needed for the potion.
"We're losing the javelin advantage," Garrick noted. "Can't use them in the brush. Too close and dense."
Harold agreed. "We need to pick our ground tomorrow. The kobolds are better armed than the goblins. From that scout's account from Dalen's hold, they have shields and real armour. That'll be a real fight."
He pointed to a new mark on the map — a possible location two scouts had mentioned in passing before the goblin attack—an area with lower undergrowth, exposed roots, and natural high ground.
"If we can get there first, we prep it. Dig in. Funnel them through choke points. Set torches and traps. I want one of the adventurer teams out tonight scouting it. I want to try and lure the kobold swarm to us."
Vera made a note. "I'll get them moving." Vera looked at Harold for a second, measuring the man. "I'm surprised you didn't want your sister for this meeting."
Harold's face softened for a moment while finding his sister across the field. She looked like hell while she and the team were talking. Her eyes found him looking at her across the battlefield before giving him a wave and continuing to speak to her team.
He looked over at Vera and said softly, "No, she's too young and her time is better spent out there working instead of coordinating people. You look as if you've done this before."
Harold looked between them all, voice low but steady. "We beat the swarm today, but it wasn't the den itself. That's still out there, and it'll repopulate if we don't clear it. Honestly, I'd be fine not clearing it if we got the relic and got out."
He let that settle in.
"So tomorrow, we strike the kobolds. We take the relic, maybe torch the den, and pull out before they know we're gone."
Everyone nodded with no arguments. They knew what was at stake.
Harold looked curious for a moment. "Did ya'll get decent perks from that fight?"
The others exchanged glances. Harold gave a quiet snort.
"Mine would've made the losses worth it… If I didn't care about our people who were killed," he admitted with a soft sigh, the levity from his initial remark fading into a somber shadow.
Carter and Garrick exchanged a glance. Carter smirked and leaned on the crate, arms crossed.
"I don't know what our esteemed, ever-youthful commander here picked up," he said, nodding at Hale. "But Garrick and I both got boosts to shield strength and formation discipline. Just enough to keep us from being flattened by those berserkers next time."
"I got something for frontline coordination," Garrick added. "Slight edge when organizing formations in close quarters. Not much, but it helps."
Harold raised an eyebrow. "Leadership perk?"
Garrick nodded. "Yeah. Carter got that one already, though."
Carter grimaced. "That was a fun trip."
Garrick blinked. "You said it was boring?"
"I just held the tower while Sarah's team went into the dungeon," Carter said dryly. "Never went in. But I got 'assaulted' nightly."
There was a beat. Hale looked sideways at him. "...Physically or emotionally?"
"Both," Carter said without hesitation. "Every night. Screaming and wailing, the goblins there attacked us every night. It was more of an annoyance than anything."
Hale, rubbing the bridge of his nose, muttered, "You two are why we got kicked out of half the bars in 'Nam."
"I was decorated," Carter said, pointing a thumb at his chest.
"You were drunk," Hale shot back. "And you stole your medal from a supply crate."
"That was one time."
"You stole two." Hale shot back.
Garrick cut in, half-laughing, "One was technically mine. He got it for me."
Vera, arms crossed beside them, deadpanned, "So this is the command staff. I feel safe already."
Harold just watched it play out with a smile. "You're all impossible."
Hale shrugged. "You picked us."
"Did I?" Harold muttered. "Or did I get drafted?"
Garrick gave him a tired grin. "Stop complaining, my Lordship, sir. We'll protect you."