The river roared beneath them, a violent torrent of black water and white foam, but the militiamen did not sink. With every boot that slammed against the surface, borrowed golden mana flared, rippling across the water like a stone skipping across glass.
Above them loomed the old stone bridge. A chittering mass of goblins had just reached the cobblestone entrance, their rusted weapons clattering in the rain. Their yellow eyes were fixed on the unsuspecting village in the distance. They thought they had won the race.
Kent knew better than to block a horde that size from the front. The sheer weight of them would grind his squad to dust.
"Listen up!" Kent bellowed over the rushing water. "Krag, Vane with me! We take the left flank and drop directly into their center! The rest of you, hit their front the second we land. Pin them down. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Take the arches!" Kent ordered. "Use the momentum!"
Hitting the base of the massive stone pillars, the men didn't break stride. Driven by the sheer velocity of the Paladin's magic, they sprinted straight up the slick, moss-covered masonry.
With a unified roar, Kent and his two men vaulted over the stone railings. For a fraction of a second, they hung suspended against a flash of lightning, then crashed down into the dead center of the goblin vanguard.
The impact shattered the horde's momentum. Mana-enforced blades sheared through the ranks before the creatures even realized the threat had come from the sky. Goblins shrieked as the trio carved out a bloody clearing, severing the vanguard from the trailing pack.
"Form the wall!" Kent shouted, burying his broadsword into a goblin's chest and kicking the corpse free. "Funnel them between the railings!"
The horde's shock lasted only seconds. Chittering screams morphed into a deafening roar as the mass surged forward. But the trap was already sprung. The remaining militiamen slammed into the goblins' unprotected backs, creating a brutal pincer on the narrow stone span.
"Let none of them pass!" Kent ordered.
Lightning bleached the sky again, illuminating a new nightmare. The dead creatures bleeding out at their feet were just fodder. Pushing through the rear were heavily armored Goblin Warriors, marching in absolute, terrifying unison. They moved in four strict units of nine, carrying heavy iron shields and serrated swords.
"Hold the line!" Kent shouted. "These are trained infantry! Krag, to my left!"
Kent had released a messenger eagle before stepping onto the water, but even with the Kingdom's teleportation network, relief was five grueling hours away.
The armored goblins shifted. Spearmen pushed to the front, their jagged tips glowing with a sickening, crude magic.
Stripped of their heavy steel plates to make the river crossing, the militiamen were fast, dodging rusted cleavers by mere inches. But speed was a fragile shield.
A goblin lunged low, sweeping a dagger toward Krag's stomach. The rookie twisted his hips, dodging a fatal gutting, but the rusted iron caught his arm. It sheared through his padded tunic, leaving a burning gash across his bicep. Hot blood soaked his sleeve.
Krag grunted, driving his sword down through the goblin's skull. He remembered the old Phoenix Knight proverb: Steel buys you seconds. Speed buys you tomorrow. Right now, he was out of both.
"Eyes front, Krag!" Kent stepped into the rookie's blind spot, his broadsword moving in wide, blinding arcs to keep the frontline intact.
The armored goblins locked their shields, covering their front and overhead flanks. They were marching forward like an impenetrable iron wall.
"Krag! Channel your mana!" Kent ordered. "Rookies, take a knee!"
Two militiamen dropped instantly. Kent and Krag stepped onto their shoulders, using their comrades to vault high over the goblin shield wall. Landing heavily behind the enemy line, they brought their glowing blades down, shattering the formation from the inside.
"Keep moving!" Kent grunted, ripping his blade from a fallen warrior's neck. "Don't let them close the gap!"
With the formation broken, the fight shifted into a chaotic brawl. But the relentless pace was bleeding them dry.
Suddenly, the One for All spell stuttered. The golden mana flickered out.
Mid-swing, the crushing weight of exhaustion crashed back into Krag's muscles. His sword suddenly felt like an anvil. His swing dragged, just long enough for a goblin blade to scrape violently across his ribs.
Krag stumbled backward. If the magic stayed down, they were dead.
Seeing his line falter, Percival Kent let out a guttural roar. He bypassed his empty mana reserves, biting the inside of his cheek until it bled. A golden aura erupted from his chest with violent intensity, snapping the magical tether back into his men just before the goblin line washed over them.
The explosive surge of power blasted a goblin away from Krag. Gasping as his strength returned, the rookie drove his blade down before the creature hit the stone.
"Push them back!" Kent bellowed, rain and blood dripping from his chin.
To the men, the Lord Commander looked like an untouchable god of war. But beneath his soaked tunic, Kent's heart was hammering a dangerous, irregular rhythm, his vision narrowing to a blur. The bridge was held, but the commander was dying on his feet