Chapter 14: The Final Clash

The first rays of dawn did little to lift the weight of battle.

The fires that had kept the goblins at bay through the night smoldered, casting flickering shadows across the battlefield. Embershore’s defenders stood bloodied but unbowed, their weapons slick with gore. They had held through the darkness, but the goblins were not finished yet.

Sorin wiped sweat from his brow, scanning the ruined battlefield from his vantage point atop the inner wall. The enemy had regrouped beyond the charred remains of the outer defenses, their warlord’s death doing little to quell their hunger for blood.

“They should’ve broken by now,” Hashan said grimly, stepping up beside him.

Korovh spat onto the ground. “Aye, but these bastards ain’t normal goblins. They’re organized. Someone else is pulling the strings.”

A loud, thunderous growl rolled across the battlefield.

Sorin’s Analyze skill triggered automatically, highlighting a new presence among the goblin ranks. A massive figure, clad in jagged black armor, emerged from the treeline. Its hunched form radiated sheer malice, the air around it warping as if resisting its very existence.

The goblins parted, revealing a monstrous beast unlike anything Sorin had ever seen.

A Hobgoblin Tyrant.

Sorin’s heart clenched as he read the red-tier nameplate above the creature’s head.

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Enemy Identified: Hobgoblin Tyrant

Level: 25
Health: 3,500/3,500
Abilities: War Cry, Bloodlust, Earthbreaker Slam
Status: Enraged

“This isn’t just another warlord,” Sorin muttered, gripping his sword tighter. “This is something much worse.”

Cailean approached, his highsteel armor scarred from battle. “If we don’t stop that thing here, Embershore is lost.”

“We take it down,” Sorin said, determination hardening his voice. “Together.”

The defenders braced themselves as the Tyrant raised its colossal war axe and let loose a thunderous roar, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.

The final battle had begun.

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The Tyrant’s Wrath

The Hobgoblin charged, the earth trembling beneath its weight. With one swing, it shattered the burning barricades, sending splinters and flames into the sky.

“MOVE!” Sorin shouted, barely diving aside as the creature’s war axe cleaved into the stone gates, sending chunks of rock flying.

Hashan and Korovh attacked from opposite sides, their weapons clashing against its thick armor, but the blows barely scratched the beast’s hide.

“Damn thing’s tough!” Korovh snarled, dodging a backhanded swing.

Cailean lunged forward, his enchanted sword flashing blue as it bit into the Tyrant’s leg, drawing a thin line of blood. The beast roared, kicking out with bone-crushing force.

Cailean slammed into the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. “Ngh—not done yet.”

Sorin’s mind raced. They couldn’t beat this thing in a straight fight—it was too strong, too fast.

They needed a new strategy.

---

Turning the Tide

Sorin’s eyes flickered to the watchtower above the gates—a fragile wooden structure, barely holding together from the night’s battle.

“Korovh!” Sorin called. “That tower—think you can bring it down?”

The dwarf followed his gaze, then grinned. “Aye, I’ll drop the bastard right on its ugly head!”

Korovh rushed toward the base of the watchtower, hacking at its weakened supports.

“Hashan! Keep it busy!” Sorin yelled, sprinting toward the Tyrant.

Hashan nodded, darting in and slashing at the beast’s exposed joints. The Tyrant snarled, turning its attention toward him.

Sorin leapt onto its back, gripping the jagged edges of its armor. The creature roared in fury, trying to shake him loose.

“Korovh, NOW!” Sorin shouted.

Korovh swung his axe one final time, and the watchtower collapsed.

Timber and stone crashed down, slamming into the Hobgoblin Tyrant with a deafening impact.

The beast staggered, pinned beneath the wreckage.

“Finish it!” Cailean bellowed, regaining his footing.

Sorin summoned every ounce of mana he had left.

“Mana Cannon!”

A searing beam of energy erupted from his outstretched hand, piercing the Tyrant’s chest. The creature let out a final, agonized roar before collapsing, its lifeblood pooling beneath it.

The battlefield fell silent.

The Hobgoblin Tyrant was dead.

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Victory at a Cost

A cheer erupted from the defenders as the remaining goblins fled into the forest, their morale shattered.

They had won.

But as Sorin turned, his victory felt hollow.

Bodies littered the village square.

Friends. Villagers who had fought to protect their home.

Sorin clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand tall. They had sacrificed everything for Embershore. He wouldn’t let it be in vain.

Cailean approached, placing a steady hand on Sorin’s shoulder. “This isn’t the end, Sorin.”

“No,” Sorin murmured, gazing at the rising sun. “It’s just the beginning.”

The goblins would come again. Worse threats lurked beyond the horizon.

But Embershore stood.

And as long as he breathed, it always would.