Goblin Halleck perched atop the saddle, his small body quivering uncontrollably, teeth clicking against each other in rapid percussion. This wasn't the trembling of cold, but the shuddering of raw fear. Never before had he witnessed war—indeed, throughout Cynthia's five centuries of recent history, true warfare had remained unknown to its inhabitants. The strange stench of blood and sulfur, mixed with something else he could not name, assaulted his senses, and he swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat. Seated before him rode young Helmos Pafaheim, the duke's heir.

  "This... odor... is rather... overwhelming," Halleck stammered, noting with slight comfort that the young nobleman seemed similarly affected. "Indeed," Helmos agreed. Only then did the goblin realize that this human too had never experienced warfare, yet maintained a remarkable fa?ade of composure.

  This was the moment of ultimate commitment. Helmos Pafaheim and Pip Berlid each commanded a thousand mounted warriors, positioned along opposite flanks of the city gate, the massive iron portal behind them gradually sealing under the strain of enormous chains. The defensive forces remaining within the walls numbered fewer than two thousand; now, every hope rested upon the two thousand cavalry assembled before the gate. Yet the true decisive element was the youthful headmaster—should his protective barrier fail, their fate would prove catastrophic beyond imagination. Naturally, only a privileged few knew this reality, including the duke and those who had accompanied the headmaster on the ascent.

  "The barrier's radius must be at least a league... do you understand?" Helmos twisted partially around, pulling Halleck forward. "At absolute minimum, our defensive forces must be enclosed within its protection. Should some Godman forces become trapped within as well, all the better—we'll sever their retreat. But prioritize protecting our own, understood?"

  Halleck nodded, though with evident hesitation. He strained his eyes, attempting to perceive greater distance. "I should have facilitated your observation from the wall first," the young lord muttered with self-reproach, shaking his head. "A tactical oversight."

  "I can see it well enough," the goblin said, pointing to a patch of open ground behind the main fray. "We meet there. Yes?"

  "Acceptable. Perhaps we'll even ensnare some Godman forces."

  Halleck shouted phrases in the guttural Goblin tongue toward Idaho's position, but observed his brother merely excavating his ear, utterly unresponsive. "Worthless fool," he grumbled, dismounting to enable direct communication.

  "By what means will you determine your counterpart's correct positioning, rather than circuitous movement?" Helmos inquired upon the goblin's return. "Whatever methodology humans employ, we utilize equivalently, my lord. Specifically—" he scrambled awkwardly up the saddle with the young lord's assistance, "we employ visual observation."

  "While submerged in subterranean darkness?"

  "From surface level. We periodically emerge to establish orientation." He acknowledged the assistance with a nod. "Navigation proves challenging for goblin messengers beneath the earth, necessitating frequent surfacing. You might not know this, my lord, but out in the countryside, bored, witless children like to play whack-a-mole. More often than not, what they're whacking is a goblin's head. If they're lucky, they might even knock out a Royal Messenger."

  "Your existence appears remarkably perilous."

  A courier from Earl Berlid's contingent galloped over, exchanging hushed words with Helmos. "The moment has arrived," the lord informed Halleck. "Our cavalry executes strategic withdrawal, while the spearmen phalanx descends into disarray. Reinforcement becomes imperative." He adjusted the reins, prompting the goblin to secure his position. Helmos and Grand Pip directed their respective squadrons in divergent directions from the gate, then executed wide, arcing maneuvers to converge upon the Godman forces from multiple angles. Halleck observed soldiers passing by, bearing sharpened stakes, their expressions vacant, spirits seemingly extinguished. (They've already accepted defeat.)the goblin reflected internally. He turned his head, then hastily averted his gaze—the wall's foundation lay obscured beneath heaped corpses, some seated, others supine, precious few covered with pale shrouds—though color perception proved difficult. Attempting to steady his respiration, he inadvertently inhaled a nauseating wave of coagulated blood—nearby, a young boy dragged a mutilated corpse, both legs precisely amputated. Terror and revulsion crashed over him simultaneously. (What thing, this war?)

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  "These youths serve as acolytes. All devoted followers of the Goddess Goria." Helmos Pafaheim indicated the young attendants ministering to the wounded and offering prayers for the fallen. "That unfortunate soul is Mondon Polaris, fifth-born to Baron Polaris, his life extinguished beneath a chariot's bladed wheel."

  "You retain knowledge of his identity?!"

  The young nobleman paused momentarily. "We remember many things."

  The cavalry reached its designated position. "Once our charge commences, your task begins." The lord, disregarding potential objection, repositioned Halleck before him. "You've never experienced warfare, have you?" He situated the goblin standing upon the saddle. "No, my lord."

  "Neither have I, sir," Helmos acknowledged with a surprising smile. "Yet now, we must both initiate war—and conclude it." Halleck nodded mechanically.

  "Direct ground placement now?" Halleck confirmed with another nod.

  "Now we must rise against our adversaries!" Helmos pivoted his mount, the gray mare instinctively pawing the earth with anticipation. "For what cause do we fight?!"

  "For the honor of House Pafaheim!" the assembled cavalry raised their weapons in unified response. "For what purpose do we strive?!"

  "For the glory of righteousness and justice!" one cavalryman elevated his poleaxe with particular enthusiasm. "And what do we die for?!"

  "For Cynthia's morrow and her glory!" The cavalry leveled their weapons in perfect unison, creating a forest of deadly steel.

  "Excellent," Lord Helmos remarked, satisfaction evident in his slight smile. "Proceed now, Goblin Halleck."

  "Goblin Halleck!" the cavalry echoed with unexpected enthusiasm. Halleck attempted a smile, though it emerged as a grimace of discomfort. In truth, he felt dangerously close to tears—whether from the unprecedented responsibility placed upon him or from overwhelming fear, he couldn't determine. Helmos Pafaheim delivered a reassuring pat to his shoulder, signaling departure time. The goblin leapt groundward, gathering soil in his palm. (Cease your collective observation, I implore you.) He turned away from the assembled soldiers, closed his fist tightly, allowing dust to cascade through his fingers. He began to chant, the words so ancient that they slipped from a human mind the moment they were heard. The earth responded with sentient obedience: sand and soil fractured and receded outward, creating an aperture of optimal dimensions. Halleck hesitated momentarily, when "Proceed, my friend," the lord encouraged. "Our charge commences imminently—I'd prefer you not perish from indecision beneath trampling hooves." The goblin acknowledged with determination, gathered his courage, and plunged into the opening. The knights observed as the earth seamlessly reconstituted itself.

  Within, he blinked repeatedly, adjusting to absolute darkness. Halleck knelt, extracting a small lantern from his satchel; the tunnel contained sufficient oxygen for goblin respiration and illumination. By its wavering light, he observed the glittering particles of gold. Suddenly, Halleck flattened himself against the ground—the earth trembled violently. Understanding dawned swiftly: this was Lord Pafaheim's charge—the martial advance of humanity.

  In response, he manipulated the drawstring, constricting his pack while maintaining a small opening. Suspending the lamp at his waist, he inverted the container, releasing a cascade of golden particles. He launched into motion, accelerating to maximum velocity. The earthen barrier before him dissolved autonomously, the tunnel extending through supernatural self-creation.

  This constituted Halleck's charge—the advance of goblin-kind.