The following morning, the army packed up the camp and left Papworth behind. The village had changed much in the last 24 hours. Now, after the hard work of ten thousand pairs of hands, most of the palisade was finished. Two gates on opposite sides blocked the paths leading in and out of the settlement, while four towers in each of the corners provided good vision over the surrounding fields.

  Two hundred soldiers would stay behind, along with one of the communication mages. Since this place was right at the border between human and goblin controlled territory, it could act as an important base for scouts and patrols. The riders stationed here would be tasked with scouring the forest for enemies and ensuring that no large forces moved further South unopposed.

  The rest of the troops continued onwards. The two separate prongs of the army were brought closer together and could now assist each other in case of combat. They were all heading in the same direction. Straight for Northport, the first settlement that fell to the enemies and the spark that started the war.

  The journey was dangerous. The enemy had free reign of this landscape for days. They could have left a whole host of traps and surprises to greet the human counterattack. The scouts had their work cut out for them.

  The already dense patrols around the main force grew even denser. Now, hundreds of cavalry were surrounding the army at all times, working in multiple layers. Like a host of buzzing flies.

  There was a forward vanguard, consisting of several hundred heavily armed riders, moving at the head of each formation. They made sure that the path was clear and scared off any enemy observers. The group had to be powerful enough to resist enemy harassment and force their way into unknown lands.

  Small packs of wolf riders constantly hassled the front scouts, making quick assaults and veering off into the woods, encouraging the humans to chase after them. Those who tried, often fell into bloody ambushes. Casualties were heavy on both sides, but the sacrifice was necessary for the safety of the overall army.

  Separate teams of riders passed back and forth between the vanguard and the main column. They constantly carried messages between the two groups and ensured that tired and wounded men could be replaced with fresh ones. The consistent flow of communication also acted as another safeguard. If the soldiers were wiped out in a major attack, the generals would be informed immediately, as soon as the scheduled report was late.

  Separate patrols surrounded the columns on all sides and scoured the woods, looking for bands of goblins covering in the dense foliage. No one wanted a repeat of Papworth, where a small horde of enemies managed to avoid getting spotted until the battle was underway. Now, whenever wolf riders were discovered occupying an area, the humans would make sure to remove them, instead of merely moving past. No matter how small and inconsequential the goblins seemed.

  The scouts passed over each area several times, on both horse and foot. The elves were invaluable here, as they had been throughout the entire campaign. The layers of patrols stretched far enough until they were able to meet and interact with the furthest soldiers of the next column.

  Since all three of the prongs tried to stick within a half day’s march of each other, this was another way to ensure cohesion. The messengers passing between each army made sure to report their present position as best they could and coordinate their advance to ensure no group got ahead of the others.

  The overall pace was slower than it had been in the previous weeks. Everyone was on edge and kept on high alert. Eventually though, the army had to stop for the night. The camp was built around a small stream to provide water for everyone and the wizards carefully checked the area for signs of goblin magic. It was clear.

  “At this pace, we should reach Northport two days from now,” Jan announced, poring over the map in the commander’s tent.

  “We left Amesbury ten days ago,” Varre remarked, “I didn’t know that the Duchy is this massive.”

  “It isn’t,” the duke explained, “but moving through woodlands is slow. Even slower when it’s teeming with enemies.”

  “The first day was rough,” Gregory admitted, “we lost fifty good men already.”

  “That’s more than died at Papworth,” the king noted with a grimace.

  “The goblins are cunning,” the count said, “they lay roadblocks at our feet everywhere, your majesty. They fire off slings at our people from a distance and whenever we give chase we only fall into further traps,” he shook his head, “we try to make them pay dearly for each casualty, but I won’t lie and tell your majesty that we’re ahead. It’s bloody work.”

  “It may sound harsh, but fifty dead is not the worst price for advance tens of thousands of soldiers,” Jan looked to his monarch, “if it wasn’t for the grain you’re providing, we’d easily lose double that from starvation alone.”

  Varre sighed. “I understand. We only need to survive for two more days until we reach the village.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but that may not be the end,” the duke frowned, “we’re only assuming that’s where their main force is. They could be holding out elsewhere.”

  “How are the other two columns doing?” the king asked.

  “Same as us,” Jan replied, “some casualties as the goblins try to slow them down, but they’re advancing in good order. It’ll take a lot more than this to stop a force as massive as ours, you know?”

  “It will, but the men still get anxious,” Gregory argued, “they’re already grumbling and complaining. Talking about how this isn’t the glorious war they signed up for. No one wants to die like this.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Maybe we should slow down even more,” Varre suggested, “no point in needlessly wasting lives.”

  “No,” the duke immediately protested, “we shouldn’t walk blindly into danger, but we have to keep up the pressure and keep those bastards scrambling. Let’s not give them any more time.”

  With that, the army continued on their path. On the second day, the fighting in the forest grew even fiercer. The humans were an unstoppable battering ram, trudging forward and cutting down a bloody path through the goblins’ flexible defense. Hour by hour, they pushed onwards, slaying enemies and driving them back.

  The advance resembled a triangle, with a single point pushing forwards. It cut through the dangers of the forest and the wolf riders were forced to flow alongside the formation, repelled by the dense patrols.

  The two side prongs moved slightly behind. This way, Jan encouraged the main goblin army to try and defend against the more numerous center.

  If the enemy decided to ambush one of the sides, the center would be able to assist within six hours. An acceptable time, but the opposite column would need twelve to arrive on the scene. Effectively, it would mean that the humans would need to stall for a full day or risk fighting without their entire army.

  Instead, the commanders hoped to meet the enemy with the exposed, but strengthened central group, led by Varre directly. This way, the prongs of their advance would act as convenient reinforcements, no matter how the battle ended up developing.

  Despite the patrols, there was still a risk of the enemy trying to catch the humans in a trap. They could have allowed the king to advance into their territory, only to send their own forces to cut off a retreat and slice through the supply lines.

  To prevent that, hundreds of scouts trailed behind the rest of the columns, spreading out into a wider base of the triangle. They wouldn’t be strong enough to repel a concentrated assault, but if it happened, they’d buy their monarch extra time to react.

  As the wedge cut into the enemy territory at a single point, the goblins tried to resist. Strangely, the sides of the formation appeared stiffer and better defended than the front, as if subtly directing and pulling the vanguard towards Northport.

  Jan, who carefully studied the maps as the troops advanced noticed the pattern by the evening of the second day, but there was little he could do about it. The plan still seemed like the best way forward. Even if he was wrong and the enemy wasn’t planning to defend that area, his maneuver would split their controlled territory in half. The goblin forces would be easier to deal with one portion at a time.

  The army spent the second night at the ruins of one of the destroyed villages. Varre decided that organizing another funeral ceremony, where the remains of the fallen peasants would be buried, was a good way of repairing some of his men’s morale.

  The soldiers needed a reminder of what they were fighting for. The goblins were frustrating and their constant harassment of the vanguard was getting on everyone’s nerves, but the war had to be won here, lest the same thing happened to the rest of the kingdom.

  Soon, perhaps as early as tomorrow, the humans would get a chance to make the monsters pay for what they’ve done. They were on the attack now. They would deal the goblins a devastating defeat and avenge their fallen countrymen.

  The dozens of scouts who had fallen to the enemy attacks were buried with honor, alongside the peasants. Just as before, the ruins of the settlement were reinforced overnight, with a small garrison left behind to guard the ever stretched supply lines. Varre swore that once the war was over, all of the destroyed villages would be rebuilt and repopulated, as a sign that Logres managed to overcome this threat.

  This wasn’t the first hamlet they’d stumbled upon over the last two days. The Duchy of Wantage was always empty, with miles of woodland separating individual outposts, but now eerily so. The scouts hadn’t stumbled on a single living soul, apart from the goblins themselves.

  Several other ruins were discovered along the way. Most lay along streams and rivers, which made for convenient paths to follow for the entire army. Each one was completely empty. The enemies were thorough and made sure to destroy every single settlement they came across to the very ground. They left no survivors, with all of the inhabitants either dead, or captured and taken elsewhere. If they were still alive, Varre’s advance gave the soldiers hope that these people could be rescued and returned home.

  Things changed on the third day since leaving Papworth. Despite the ominous date, October 13th, the goblins seemed to have backed off from their relentless defenses, as if no longer interested in slowing the humans down. Instead, they focused on urging the vanguard forward. The path ahead was clear. The wolf riders only blocked off the detours.

  The enemy continued to set up heavy lines of defenders on the sides of the formation, ensuring the human cavalry wouldn’t go off track, but only offered token resistance at the front. Jan realized it by midday, once his careful mapping revealed that the center was pushing ahead of the side prongs, but he didn’t want to stop his advance. No matter what happened, his forces were on the cusp of splitting the goblin territory in half.

  The vanguard was told to be extra cautious and be ready to meet major resistance. The duke understood that the enemy had been pulling him towards Northport for a reason. He didn’t like it, but with his forces this close to their goal he didn’t want to stop either.

  By the afternoon, he finally received the report he had been waiting for. The vanguard had reached their destination.

  Northport was the first settlement destroyed in this war. The first evidence that the goblins had truly arrived in Logres and the first sign that they were serious about their plans for conquest.

  They came from the hills beyond the settlement. No one understood why they took such a detour, but it seemed like the location had some importance to them. There was nothing beyond it. Only the Grey Mountains, a nearly impassable, uninhabited ridge.

  And yet something there interested the enemy enough to make their stand. This would be different from all of their previous roadblocks. It was no longer a small collection of a few hundred or even a couple thousand warriors sent to achieve a mysterious objectives.

  When the scouts first broke through the tree line and entered the empty fields surrounding the ruined village, they discovered a massive campsite waiting for them on the other side of the massive clearing.

  The goblins had assembled at least twenty thousand soldiers on site, an army that nearly rivaled Varre’s own multitudes. The campsite extended into the forest on the Northern edge so it likely hid many more troops, though the scouts couldn’t be certain of the real number.

  The main force was finally found. Knowing this, Jan decided to slow down. The vanguard was safe and continued their watch from a distance. Mysteriously, the enemy didn’t seem to mind being watched and allowed the humans to stay their ground.

  Now that the battle was at hand, the central column stopped their advance and sent messages for the side prongs to regroup. They stopped early for the night, eager to get some extra rest and make sure they were fresh for tomorrow’s battle.

  By the evening, Varre’s forces had ballooned to thirty thousand. The soldiers who had kept their distance for the sake of supply lines were brought back together. The confrontation that could end the war in a single swoop was at hand and every single sword would be needed. Now it just had to be won.

  Casualties are inevitable, but their goal is within sight.

  They arranged their forces at Northport, the village where the war began.