Chapter 121: Goblins in Winter (7) The Terror
The adventurers and soldiers around Sophie shared her horror. Whispers of disbelief and fear spread through the ranks like wildfire. "Where did they get that armor?" one soldier muttered, his voice trembling. "Are those... demonized goblins?" another adventurer gasped, her eyes wide with terror. The realization hit them all at once—this was no ordinary goblin raid.
It was an invasion.
Sophie's thoughts raced. The goblins' coordination, their sheer numbers, and the presence of demonized goblins pointed to a more sinister force at work. She scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of leadership among the goblins but saw none. It was as if the entire horde was driven by a single, malevolent will.
The tension was palpable as the goblin army halted just out of arrow range, their eyes gleaming with malice. The ground seemed to vibrate with the collective growls and snarls of the horde. Sophie knew that if they didn't act soon, the fortress would be overrun.
Desperation clawed at her throat, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to stay composed. "Hold the line!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the mounting panic. "Prepare the defenses! Archers, ready your bows! Mages, get your spells ready! We will not let them take this fort!"
The adventurers and soldiers scrambled to follow her orders, but their movements were slow and disjointed, their fear sapping their strength. "We're doomed," one adventurer whispered, his voice tinged with despair. "There's no way we can win this," another muttered, his eyes darting nervously.
Sophie clenched her fists, anger bubbling up at the defeatist attitudes. "We have no choice but to fight!" she shouted, her voice ringing with conviction. "If we stand together, we can hold them off until reinforcements arrive. We have faced worse and survived!"
Victor, Lila, and the other S-ranked adventurers gathered around her, their faces grim but resolute. "Sophie, we're ready to follow your lead," Victor said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "We won't let you down."
Lila nodded, her daggers gleaming in the dim light. "We got too full of ourselves before, but we won't make that mistake again. We're with you."
Sophie felt a surge of gratitude for their support. "Thank you," she said, her voice softer. "We need to show them what true adventurers are made of."
Just as Sophie's words began to rally the troops, a sudden, shrill cry echoed from the walls. "Look! What is that?" A sentry pointed frantically towards the treeline, his voice laced with terror. Sophie's heart skipped a beat as she followed his gaze. Emerging from the shadows were several massive figures, their forms twisted and grotesque.
These were no ordinary goblins; they were the demonized variants, enhanced with dark magic.
The sight of these abominations sent a fresh wave of panic through the ranks. "We're finished!" a soldier cried, his voice cracking with fear. "They'll tear us apart!" Another adventurer, a mage with trembling hands, dropped his staff, his eyes wide with horror. "I didn't sign up for this! We're all going to die!"
Sophie's mind raced, struggling to maintain control over the spiraling situation. "Focus!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. "We are not dead yet! Remember your training! Archers, take aim at the demonized goblins! Mages, prepare to counter their magic!
We hold this line, no matter what!"
But despite the rallying cries, the air was thick with a sense of impending doom. The adventurers and soldiers knew they were outnumbered and outmatched. The goblin horde began to advance again, their footsteps like the drumbeats of death marching ever closer.
The ground seemed to tremble under the sheer weight of the advancing force, and a cold sweat broke out on Sophie's forehead as she watched the relentless approach.
Whispers of despair and fear spread like wildfire among the defenders. "There are too many of them," a young soldier muttered, his voice trembling. "We're finished," another adventurer said, her eyes wide with terror. The realization of their dire situation began to sink in, and panic threatened to take hold.
Sophie clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. "Hold the line!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the mounting panic. "We will not let them take this fort! Archers, ready your bows! Mages, get your spells ready! We've faced worse and survived.
We can do it again!"
The adventurers and soldiers scrambled to follow her orders, but their movements were slow and disjointed, their fear sapping their strength. Victor and Lila, sensing the growing panic, moved among the ranks, trying to bolster their comrades' spirits.
"We can't let them see our fear," Victor said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "We've got to stand strong. Sophie's right—we've faced worse and come out on top."
Lila nodded, her expression determined. "We got too full of ourselves before, but we won't make that mistake again. We're with you, Sophie."
Despite their words, the air was thick with a sense of impending doom. The goblins were now within range, their guttural war cries echoing across the battlefield. The defenders tightened their grips on their weapons, their faces set with grim determination.
Then, as the tension reached its peak, a distant war horn suddenly cut through the air. The sound was deep and resonant, carrying a note of hope amidst the despair. Sophie's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the call. It was the war horn of her house, the Dukedom of Icevern.
For a moment, Sophie was stunned. She had sent out a call for help weeks ago, but she had given up hope that her brother would send reinforcements. She had assumed he wanted her to prove herself by handling the situation on her own. But now, it seemed, help was finally on its way.
The adventurers and soldiers around her perked up at the sound, their fear momentarily forgotten. "Reinforcements!" someone shouted, their voice filled with relief. "We're saved!"
Sophie's eyes scanned the horizon, and she saw them—banners bearing the crest of the Icevern Dukedom fluttering in the wind as a column of knights and soldiers advanced towards the fortress. The sight filled her with renewed hope. Her brother hadn't abandoned her after all.
But just as the mood began to lift, another war horn echoed across the battlefield. This one was deeper, more foreboding. It was a sound that chilled Sophie to the bone. She turned to the source, her eyes wide with disbelief. "It can't be..." she whispered.
The adventurers and soldiers around her froze, their faces draining of color. "That horn... it's the Drakhan family," one of them said, their voice trembling with fear. "The last time that horn sounded was during the demon hunting war."
The mention of the Drakhan family sent ripples of fear and awe through the ranks. The Drakhan family was legendary, known for their brutal efficiency and power in dealing with demonic threats. Their presence on the battlefield was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that the situation was dire enough to warrant their involvement, and that brought its own terror.
A murmur of voices spread through the ranks, the defenders exchanging anxious glances. "Earl Draven Arcanum von Drakhan," someone whispered, the name carrying a mixture of relief and dread. "He's ruthless, cold, and unforgiving. If he's here, things must be really bad."
A murmur of voices spread through the ranks, the defenders exchanging anxious glances. "Earl Draven Arcanum von Drakhan," someone whispered, the name carrying a mixture of relief and dread. "He's ruthless, cold, and unforgiving. If he's here, things must be really bad."
"You've heard the stories, right?" another adventurer asked, his voice trembling. "They say he once wiped out an entire village just to root out a single demon."
"Yeah, and remember the Battle of Blackstone? They say he decimated the enemy forces with no mercy. His own men were terrified of him," a third adventurer added, his eyes wide with fear.
"I heard he doesn't even flinch at the sight of blood," a young recruit whispered. "Some say he enjoys it."
"That's not all," another voice chimed in. "I heard he uses forbidden magic, the kind that can rip a soul apart."
"But he gets results," someone argued. "Every mission he leads ends in victory, no matter the cost."
"Victory, sure," another replied bitterly. "But at what cost? They say he sacrifices his own men without hesitation if it means winning the battle."
The whispers made a wry smile to get etched to her face as she uttered the name of her fiance.
"Draven..."
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