The Devouring Knight

The ground shook as Sengolio's soldiers poured through the shattered gates. Shouts and screams filled the air, the clash of steel echoing off the city walls.

Then…

BWOOM!

A deep, commanding horn blasted from beyond the ridge. Heads turned toward the sound. Dust billowed, sunlight glinting off steel and polished armor.

Lumberling's army thundered forward. Horses snorted, boars bellowed, and four golden eagles cried out from above, their shadows sweeping over the battlefield.

At the front, each captain rode with their vice-captain at their side, leading their units like waves crashing into the enemy.

Aren spearheaded the elite squads, sixty-four hardened warriors, his spear sweeping wide. The first swing cut through two enemy soldiers in one motion, their bodies hitting the ground before their screams could escape.

"Stay together!" he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "If you can't win, fall back and let me and Rogar handle it!"

Beside him, Vice-Captain Rogar roared in agreement, piercing through a Sengolio knight's shield with his spear. The elite squad tightened formation behind them, cutting a path through the chaos.

On the right flank, Gobo1 and Gobo2 charged with the one hundred twenty-one hunters at their backs. Arrows darkened the sky as they closed in.

"Phalanx formation!" Gobo2 shouted, shield raised.

Gobo1 glanced at him with a raised brow mid-swing. "We don't have a phalanx formation."

"I know," Gobo2 grinned behind his helmet, "but it sounds cool."

"This idiot…" Gobo1 muttered, cutting down a soldier in front of him. Even with their bickering, the two moved in perfect sync, Gobo1's blade keeping the enemy back while Gobo2's shield absorbed blows, the hunters behind them raining arrows with deadly accuracy. Together, they would even hold their ground against Quasi-Knights when needed.

Behind the Gobo brothers came Vice-Captains Gorrak and Vrak, leading their squads like a rolling wall of destruction.

Gorrak's massive hammer came down on an enemy shield, the wood and metal crumpled like paper, the man behind it flying back several feet before hitting the ground lifeless.

Beside him, Vrak moved with ruthless precision, his sword cutting down anyone who slipped past Gorrak's reach. Together, they were like a gate that would never open, crushing and cutting through wave after wave of Sengolio soldiers.

On the far left flank, Captains Takkar, Vakk, and Skarn led the dreaded Boar Cavalry, one hundred and two riders thundering forward on massive tusked mounts. The ground shook under their charge, the sound of pounding hooves and boar bellows drowning out the screams of their enemies.

The boars were monstrous, thick hides with iron armors, snapping tusks, and sheer brute force. Shields splintered like twigs, spears glanced harmlessly off their hides. The riders swung their twin axes in brutal arcs, cutting through armor, flesh, and bone alike.

Vice-Captains Tarnix and Izzek followed just behind, their hammers smashing soldiers aside like dolls. Skarn's mount was the largest of them all, an enormous black-furred beast that plowed through the enemy like a battering ram. Skarn himself swung his twin axes wildly, one blow beheading a soldier, the next splitting a shield in two.

"Tch, we should have big boars like his," Takkar grumbled mid-charge, his axes cleaving a path through the enemy.

"Agreed," Vakk replied without missing a swing, burying both blades into a soldier before yanking them free.

Far behind the melee, Krived commanded fifty-eight archers, his keen eyes scanning the battlefield for key targets. Arrows hissed through the air in deadly volleys, cutting down advancing troops before they could even reach the front lines. Vice-Captain Zarn stayed close, loosing arrows with equal precision.

When a cluster of Sengolio soldiers tried to flank them, Krived and Zarn mounted their horses in a heartbeat, pulling back while firing at full gallop. Any who got close enough to strike found themselves face-to-face with Krived's sword, his skill in close combat was just as deadly as his archery. One soldier lunged, only to have Krived sidestep, slash, and send him crashing to the dirt before turning to fire another arrow into the crowd.

Through the chaos, a deep, echoing horn blast rolled over the battlefield. Heads turned, friend and foe alike to see two figures breaking through the dust.

Skitz and Lumberling rode side by side, their mounts pounding across the torn earth like thunder. They didn't slow. They didn't weave. They simply cut straight into the thickest part of the Sengolio lines.

Far above the chaos, atop the scorched battlements of a captured watchtower, a lone figure in deep crimson robes turned at the sound of the horn. His pale eyes narrowed as dust plumes rose on the horizon.

"Monsters?" he murmured, one corner of his mouth twitching in disdain. His fingers tightened around the blackened staff, its carved runes flickering with restless tongues of fire.

The clash of steel and dying screams below were nothing but distant noise, all his attention fixed on the armored rider leading the charge.

A slow, knowing smile crept across his face.

"Let's see if you bleed like the rest."

The first rank of soldiers tried to brace. It didn't matter.

Lumberling's spear tore through them like wet parchment, his every swing sending bodies sprawling. Skitz's twin daggers were blurs of steel, flashing in and out faster than the soldiers could follow, cutting throats and hamstrings before they even realized he'd passed them.

Knights moved to intercept, but without true Knight-level warriors among them, they were nothing but bigger targets. One lunged for Skitz, only for the goblin to slip under the strike and bury both blades into the man's unarmored side.

He was too fast for the eye, only a blur of steel and shadow. A glint of his daggers, the curve of a feral grin, and then, nothing but the wet snap of blades and the screams of dying men.

Another tried to block Lumberling's slash, but the sheer force of it shattered his sword and split him from collar to hip in the same motion.

And because there were no friendly troops behind them, the two unleashed without restraint. Wide sweeps, full spins, and brutal lunges, all delivered with perfect, lethal precision.

The Sengolio front line wavered. Then it broke.

Soldiers shouted in panic, some stumbling back, others tripping over the bodies of their comrades in their desperate retreat. The momentum of the siege, so crushing moments ago was gone, swept away in the wake of the two slaughtering their way forward.

From atop the wall, Drosvain's weary defenders stared in disbelief. One soldier's voice cracked as he pointed toward the pair.

"Who… who in the hells are they?"

...

On the city walls…

The defenders stared in stunned disbelief as the tide of battle shifted before their eyes. Lumberling's forces moved with purpose, driving the Sengolio soldiers back from the shattered gate.

Captain Derrek wiped blood from his face, his chest heaving. He had just run another enemy through when one of his men called out from the wall.

"Captain! Monsters, monsters are attacking the Sengolio army!"