What was that crazy vampiress thinking!? Who in their right mind would go into battle with this battered, exhausted bunch on their side over these forested wastelands!? And against more numerous goblins from the east? Cooperating with humans and orcs!?
That's just Valeria for you!
Well… after the torment and horrors of the underground, the sight of the sun and the scents of late spring — fresh flowers and damp earth — gave me strength. Even now, running with my companions in misery, with whom I had nearly died in the arena.
Far behind us rode the children on old and sick wolves. Kids too young to be taken to war. As soon as Gege told me what was happening, I immediately decided to join the battle. To my surprise, all thirty lizardmen — and even Banyak — joined me. Apparently, a life debt means quite a lot in their cultures…
I hope that just as I managed to win in the game of coins of destiny, I'll also manage to help that pale girl a little — the one who always did everything her own way, and worse yet, it somehow always worked out for her!
The third head, although it saved us in Vort'Ayem and its earth-manipulation abilities were invaluable there, here it felt like someone suddenly grew a third arm and a second nose! I simply felt uneasy and still hadn't gotten used to the third personality — somewhat calmer than the second, but requiring more aura and willpower to control. I had already reached level 31; after all, several days had passed since we arrived here from that cursed town above the abandoned underground city.
"Do you feel it, Artax!?" Jo'Xa'Jaru shouted to me, having already outrun us by several dozen meters, and he didn't even look like he was using his full strength. Level 73 — That's a force to be reckoned with.
I nodded, trying to catch my breath. My paws hurt terribly, and every breath felt like some invisible creature inside me was hammering my lungs with a mallet.
The whole group armed themselves with whatever they could find in the alliance stronghold — trash, really, but still weapons: hobgoblin spears, swords, and axes. Banyak grabbed a large club and a shield that was barely holding together.
"Let's go help your female!" said San'Xa'Hu, and it was good for him I had no strength left, because otherwise I would've kicked his green-scaled ass!
Thirty-two exhausted warriors without armor or helmets, with the lowest quality weapons — ones not even taken for the reserve rabble in a battle for survival. And on top of that, a bit over fifty children with slings, and wolves dragging themselves along like they had escaped from a queue to be put down at an Earth veterinarian… What could we even accomplish?
Every step felt heavier, and the bad omen didn't make it any lighter. I knew I had caused Valeria problems, and my sudden disappearance could have broken her small, cold heart. I had to make up for it, to do something useful. The very fact that I had been so well received in Vort'Ayem and in the stronghold meant she hadn't said a single bad word about me. That crazy vampire truly believed I would come back!
Honestly… I guess we really were friends in the end…
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sensation of hundreds of auras ahead of me, and the forest thinning out. The sounds of horns, trumpets, and drums reached my ears, and adrenaline began to flood my body. I clenched my teeth and shouted:
"Run! Our greens are still fighting!"
The group of lizardmen surged forward. Within minutes, I passed dozens of wagons and tents, groups of wounded who cried and struck their foreheads against the ground at the sight of me, and also — a massive statue of a warrior with two blood-red eyes, now overgrown and faded with time…
Inside it, some aura still flickered, and although I ran past it with all my strength, in a hurry, my other two heads also glanced its way — as if to show respect, or perhaps uncertainty. So this was that relic from ancient times Gege spoke of? The famous monument to the God of the Sword, huh? It was impressive indeed… Too bad time was pressing. For a brief moment, a shiver ran down my spine, but soon the smell of blood and the sounds of war took over my full attention.
Only anger and the thirst for slaughter remained! They didn't kill me in the underground, and they won't kill me here either. I reached the top. I looked. I froze.
This wasn't a battle. It was a massacre.
I saw a massive hobgoblin struggling with Doirak over the wounded Isma. I saw the old man's eyes full of light — and they faded before I could catch my breath. Jo'Xa'Jaru was already fighting; with one thrust of his spear, he pierced the face of a hobgoblin wielding two swords, then lifted the corpse high and hurled it, along with the spear, into another, impaling them both!
I filled my lungs with air, pulled all three heads back, and we roared together from the depths of our lungs! Cries and a frenzy of joy spread across the eastern side of the hill. The wounded kept doing their best, the dying rose just to keep fighting.
"The Chosen of Zod has returned! Glory to Artax! The army of lizards has arrived!"
Shouts echoed from all around, and the wild fury of the attackers faltered.
"You cursed beast!" I snarled at the first enemy who came close. The red-eyed second head spat venom at him, the brown-eyed third turned the ground beneath his feet into spikes so he lost his balance, and I lunged forward, clamping my jaws with full force until I heard the goblin spearman's skull crack as he died.
"San! Now!" I shouted to the green lizard, and he hurled a mud bomb at a large hobgoblin. Filled with aura, it exploded on impact, wounding him with hardened fragments of earth. The beast dropped to one knee — wounded in the side. Doirak barely avoided a killing blow at the last moment. Even in the end, he did not allow the shaman's body to be dishonored!
From that moment on, everything happened so fast. I heard stones whistling above our heads. I heard Gege calling to the other children not to be afraid. The lizardmen were incredibly powerful — even the biggest orcs fell before them. The number of enemies didn't decrease, but their morale and spirit dropped so much that the Yellow Grass banner fell back into the hands of the alliance.
A massive orc tried to reclaim it, but Jo'Xa'Jaru stood in his way. Meanwhile, I, along with several other lizards, fought a huge goblin and his retinue. Banyak smashed one of them in the chest with his club — the crack of breaking ribs followed by another blow to the face finished him. The bull roared, stomped his hoof, and did not relent in his furious attacks — like one possessed by a god of war.
"You cursed lizard! False prophet! You are not from here! Leave and do not interfere in the affairs of the green race! Begone!" roared a thick-built hobgoblin with wild hair, though the wound in his side was clearly troubling him — he wasn't panicking. "I am Koshia, son of Koshur! I will be the one to kill you! I will raise the green race from its knees!"
San'Xa'Hu laughed and threw another mud attack at him, but he dodged and countered with his axe. One of the lizardmen blocked it with a shield and struck him with his tail, heavy as a mace. Doirak lost consciousness, and one of the goblins from the alliance dragged him away. I spat venom and focused black aura into the ground beneath the enemies' feet, imagining it hardening, growing, shaping into spikes that pierced them! They dodged, but I still managed to wound two of them in the legs.
The blows of their leader — who I assumed was their commander — were not enough to push back the lizardmen's advance. Though he was level 46, which was very impressive — the highest among the goblins and hobgoblins I had encountered — even San'Xa'Hu, the mage-medic, surpassed him by nine!
The lizardmen and Banyak were worth half a thousand greens! Even so poorly equipped!
"You disgusting traitor of the east. I am the one anointed by Zod in the Great Southern Mountains! I am the one who will prepare the kingdom for his great return soon! By attacking me, you attack the King of Monsters himself!" I roared at him as he knelt, coughing blood, desperately protected by his infantry. "Kneel and surrender! You are weak and unworthy of the honor of commanding an army. Who are you to challenge the chosen of the behemoths and the prophet of the most renowned among them!?"
The fighting in our area slowed. The lizardmen, though somewhat aware of my dealings with goblins, froze at the name of Zod. The attackers, seeing their leader struggling, also hesitated at the thought of attacking Zod's chosen.
Good thing they didn't know that among everyone present, my level wasn't anything special, and two or three of them could probably take me down! Hah! I've really gotten good at acting! Lucky me!
As Koshia clenched his fists, spat blood, and forced himself back to his feet, gripping his axe and gathering the last of his aura for a final attack — the blue-scaled Jo'Xa'Jaru arrived with a large group, holding the head of a massive orc.
"Gromhul…" one of the hobgoblins whimpered, beginning to cry as if preparing for death.
The enemy hobgoblin's axe suddenly lost its red aura of fury, returning to its wielder's body. He stared at the severed head, then fell onto his backside, nearly panicking.
"You are from the Flying Company!? You!? A mere lizard!? You served the White Bird!? How!?" he shouted, full of envy, pounding his fists against the ground like a furious child. "You are just trash from the Southern Forest! How could someone like you fight side by side with the greatest warriors of this millennium!?"
Jo'Xa'Jaru scratched at the torn skin on his chest, revealing a strange mark — as if burned into his flesh — a bird with wide wings, its beak pointed north.
"Old times… beautiful memories that now live only in my heart. You are not worthy to speak that name. How dare you betray Zod!? Has he not given you enough signs to believe!? How dare you gather an army to challenge him!"
That was Jo'Xa'Jaru. He didn't even fully understand what was going on, but he knew I would never act against him. He had seen enough death, endured enough, risking his life for the lizardmen. Seeing this fool slaughter his own kind must have filled him with rage…
Enemy ranks began to break. Only in a few places steel still clashed.
From the distance, I heard the sound of horns. A great commotion unfolded somewhere far away, and feeling that familiar black aura, I knew — we had won. I wanted to dance, to sing, to rest and drink! Ah! Too bad my toxin resistance meant I couldn't get drunk! I'd have to find another way to celebrate.
Jo'Xa'Jaru threw the orc's head, and it rolled to the feet of his subordinates. Many of them began to flee, others rushed forward only to die. Koshia surrendered, and hundreds of hobgoblins began to run, others dropped their weapons. Chaos erupted across the hill. Our side celebrated — others begged for mercy or fled.
I, standing over three meters tall to the top of my heads with my necks almost fully extended..., alongside the slightly shorter Jo'Xa'Jaru and his strongest warriors, towered over the greens. The mark of the Flying Company struck fear into the enemy, and though I had no idea what it truly meant, I enjoyed the victory no less.
The sun moved toward the horizon, the dust of battle settled, and the ones I fondly called Jo and San captured Koshia and bound him with rope — completely helpless and broken.
The Red Serpents banners fell. The Southern Goblin Alliance triumphed.
"To think that after two decades, I would once again win a battle in honest combat… Thank you, Artax," Jo said, and for a brief moment, I saw him holding back tears.
A great lizard — yet gentle as a child…
I hope he won't be the last such wonderful guy I meet in this world.