Chapter 54 (Patreon)

The water tasted wrong.

Henri held the cup a few inches from his lips, nostrils flaring at the faint metallic tang beneath the surface. Not poison — his perk would have warned him — but something off. Something that shouldn't be there.

"The barrels," he said quietly.

His steward, a thin man named Colson who'd managed a country estate before the transport, went pale. "My lord, we checked them at dawn. The seals were intact."

"Check them again."

Colson hurried away, and Henri set the cup down on the campaign table without drinking. His fingers found the signet ring and turned it slowly against his knuckle.

Six days since the river crossing. Six days of marching through plains that fought him at every step. The centaurs had pulled back two days ago — vanished into the grasslands to the south, no longer harrying his flanks — but Harold's adventurers had filled the gap with enthusiasm.

Three sentries were knocked out last night, and their equipment was taken. Bodies not discovered until the watch change. A tatanka with a slashed hamstring, lame now and slowing the supply train. And apparently, something in the water.

Henri looked down at his hands. Dirt had worked its way into the creases of his knuckles despite his morning ablutions. His nails, once immaculate, showed crescents of grime that wouldn't scrub clean no matter how hard he tried.

This place, he thought, strips everything away eventually.

He would not let it strip away him.

The tent flap rustled, and Arjun ducked inside without waiting for permission. The man had never learned to announce himself properly, a failing Henri had stopped correcting after the third day.

"The forward scouts are back," Arjun said. His hand rested on the katar at his hip — always there, always ready. "They found tracks leading northeast. The adventurers who hit us last night are regrouping somewhere ahead."

"How many?"

"Hard to say. Twenty, maybe thirty. They're not trying to hide anymore."

Henri's ring turned. Twenty or thirty adventurers, no longer running, no longer content with hit-and-run sabotage. That suggested they'd found something worth defending.

"How far to Haven?"

"Day and a half, maybe two with the damaged wagons. More if we keep being slowed donw."

Close, then. Close enough that Harold's people had stopped delaying and started preparing a real defense.

Good, Henri thought. Let them dig in. Let them think walls will save them.

"Double the perimeter watch tonight," he said. "And have Sato's men take a rotation. They've been resting long enough."

Arjun's expression flickered — something between agreement and doubt — but he nodded and withdrew.

Henri sat alone in the dim tent, listening to the camp stir around him. Soldiers calling to each other. The rhythmic thud of mallets driving stakes. The distant lowing of tatanka being herded into their evening corral.

He reached for the forum.

The interface flickered to life in his vision — that strange overlay the system provided, somewhere between imagination and sight. Henri had never grown comfortable with it. The technology, if it could be called that, felt like an intrusion. A whisper in the skull.

But it was useful, and Henri was not so proud that he would reject useful tools.

He navigated to the main forum, scanning the posts from the past day. Trade requests. Monster sighting reports. The usual complaints about system unfairness from Lords who couldn't manage their own settlements.

Then he saw it.

At the top of the feed, where posts with the most engagement rose. Of course it was Harold.

Lord Harold — The Landing

[GUIDE] Nests: What They Are, How to Identify Them, and Why You Need to Act Immediately

For those who haven't encountered the term yet, I'm sharing information that may save your settlement — and your region.

A week ago, my forces engaged what I initially believed to be an unusually large goblin den in the northern basin. It was not a den. It was a nest — a consolidated monster settlement that forms when multiple dens in a region are left unchecked for too long.

As proof, I'm sharing the World First notification my forces received upon its destruction:

WORLD FIRST ACHIEVED First Organized Force to Destroy a Nest (Minor)

Perk — 

Increased Damage (Rare): Soldiers under your command deal 8% increased damage in combat. 

Settlement Reward: Soldiers learn mana skills 10% faster.

How Nests Form

Dens are temporary. A goblin den, left alone, will eventually exhaust its local resources and either migrate or collapse. But when multiple dens exist in proximity — close enough to share hunting grounds, close enough for their populations to intermingle — something else happens.

The strongest den absorbs the others. Leadership structures emerge. What were once disorganized bands of raiders becomes something closer to an army, with officers, tactics, and fortifications.

Warning Signs

If you're seeing any of the following, you may have a nest forming in your region:

Coordinated attacks — Multiple groups striking at once, from different directions, with apparent communication between them.

Cross-species tactics — Goblins and trolls sharing a den isn't unusual. But if you're seeing different species working together tactically — covering each other, coordinating movements, filling complementary roles — that's organization, not cohabitation.

Fortifications — Palisades. Ditches. Watch posts. Monsters don't naturally build defenses. If they're building, they're consolidating.

Unusual monster types mixing — My forces encountered warg cavalry and Blackjaw goblins far from the mountains working alongside basin goblins. When dens merge, they draw in creatures from outside the local population.

Reduced raiding — This sounds counterintuitive, but a forming nest often goes quiet. They're building strength, not spending it.

Why You Need to Act Immediately

A nest does not stop growing.

The one my forces destroyed was classified as "Minor" by the system. That means there are larger categories. I don't know what a Major nest looks like, and I don't want to find out. This nest had over 1,000 goblins supported by hobgoblins and trolls as well as warg cavalry

I sent a cohort, roughly 600 soldiers, with my knights to support, and they took significant casualties.

If you suspect a nest is forming in your region, you need to act now — before it reaches a size that your forces cannot handle. There is a very real possibility that a nest could take over a region and become something more. Coordinate with neighboring Lords. Pool your adventurers. Do whatever it takes.

I'll answer questions below.

— Harold

Henri stared at the post, his jaw tight.

World First.

The words sat in his mind like a stone dropped into still water. Another World First for Harold. Another achievement that would echo through the forums, through the system, through every Lord's awareness of who was winning this new world and who was falling behind.

He should have been clearing those dens. They were in his region too, or close enough. If he'd sent forces north instead of preparing for this campaign—

No. He'd made the right choice. Harold was the greater threat. The dens could have waited.

Except they hadn't been dens. They'd been a nest. And now Harold had the World First, and Henri had nothing but mud on his boots.

He scrolled down to the replies.

Lord Darius — Westhollow

This explains so much. We've been seeing coordinated goblin raids for weeks — thought they were just getting smarter. Checking our northern territories immediately. Thank you, Lord Harold.

Adventurer — Kira Swiftblade

Holy shit, warg cavalry? Like actual mounted combat? I need to get to the Landing. You guys are fighting the real fights up there.

Adventurer — Derek Moss

Did anyone else notice he said "cohort" and "knights"? Like actual Roman military structure? This man's out here building a real army while the rest of us are playing tribal warfare.

Crafter — Tom Miller

The warning signs list is incredibly helpful. We're a small settlement, our army is barely functional, but at least now we know what to watch for. If we see this, we evacuate. Thank you for looking out for the little guys.

Lord Yusuf — Snowfort

8% increased damage as a PERK? And 10% faster mana skill training for the whole settlement? The system rewards scale with the achievement. That's... significant.

Adventurer — DeathBlossom420

lmao imagine being a goblin officer thinking you're hot shit and then Harold's entire army shows up. "sir they have cavalry" "we have trolls" "sir, the trolls are running"

Adventurer — CriticalMiss

@DeathBlossom420 bruh

Henri's ring dug into his finger. He realized he'd been turning it so hard the metal had left a mark.

Lord Gerold — Northmarch

Harold, I have to ask — how many soldiers did you commit to this? My village barely held against a gnoll raid last month. If there's a nest forming anywhere near me, I don't have the forces to address it.

Lord Harold — The Landing

@Lord Gerold — A full cohort with knight support. Casualties were significant. This isn't something a single Lord should attempt alone, which is why I'm urging regional coordination. If you're concerned about your northern territories, reach out to your neighbors. I'm happy to advise on tactics if you want to message me on a different thread.

Crafter — Elena Vasquez

Wait, he has actual knights? Like, a knightly order? How?

Adventurer — Marcus Cole

They don’t have mounts yet. They are soldiers with a handle on mana skills. Some of us picked the right lord to follow.

Adventurer — Jarvis Odom

@Elena Vasquez it's a perk thing I think. Lords can appoint people to positions and the system recognizes it. My Lord made a "sheriff" and the guy got bonuses for law enforcement stuff. Harold just went full medieval with it.

Crafter — Elena Vasquez

@Jarvis Odom that's actually genius? Why isn't everyone doing this?

Adventurer — Jarvis Odom

@Elena Vasquez because it requires having enough people and organization to make it work. Most settlements are still figuring out where to put the latrines.

Henri closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly through his nose.

Significant casualties, the post said. That meant Harold's forces were bloodied. The cohort he'd sent north was damaged, possibly combat-ineffective. And yet here Harold was, playing the generous leader, sharing knowledge, winning hearts across the entire forum.

Meanwhile Henri's army bled in the mud for every mile, and no one even knew what he was doing. No one would know until Haven's walls came down.

Let him have his forum adulation, Henri thought. I'll have his territory.

He kept scrolling.

Lord Castellan — Greymoor

Genuine thanks for this. The monster hunting guides you posted last month saved at least seven of my scouts. This nest information might save a lot more.

Adventurer — Quiet Pete

the man drops a world first announcement and then immediately starts teaching everyone else how to do it. absolute legend behavior.

Adventurer — Sarah Chen

@Quiet Pete right?? most Lords would sit on this info and try to monopolize it. Harold's out here writing guides for the whole server.

Crafter — David Okonkwo

I've been saying for weeks that the goblin activity in our region felt organized. Everyone told me I was paranoid. Showing this to my Lord immediately.

Adventurer — BigDaddyKrunk

ok but can we talk about how the Landing apparently has knights, a cohort (that's like 500 soldiers right?), healing potions, AND they're clearing region-level threats while everyone else is struggling to keep the walls up? what are they feeding those people

Crafter — Amy Liu

@BigDaddyKrunk organization and apparently actual food since Harold posted that farming guide awhile ago.

Adventurer — BigDaddyKrunk

@Amy Liu damn. my Lord fed us mystery meat yesterday and called it "provisions"

Henri's jaw tightened. Even the jokes praised Harold. Even the mockery was affectionate.

Lord Priya Sharma — Lakeview Crossing

Lord Harold, I need your opinion on something.

For the past month we've had three separate goblin groups hitting our southern farms. Last week they stopped. All of them, at once. We haven't seen a single raid in six days.

At first we thought we'd driven them off, but reading your warning signs... the silence is making me nervous now.

More concerning: our scouts reported seeing kobold archers providing cover for goblin berserkers during the last major raid. That's not normal, is it? Kobolds usually stay in caves and attack anything that isn't kobold. And two days ago we found what looked like a ditch being dug near the forest edge, though we couldn't get close enough to confirm.

Is this a nest forming?

Henri paused on that one, despite himself. He recognized the name — Lakeview Crossing was far to the south across the ocean, well outside his sphere of concern. But the description was troubling. Kobolds and goblins working together. 

He scrolled to Harold's reply.

Lord Harold — The Landing

@Lord Priya Sharma — This could be a nest forming, and if it is, it may be more advanced than the one my forces just destroyed.

The silence alone would concern me. Three groups stopping simultaneously suggests consolidation. But the kobold-goblin coordination is the real warning sign. Those species don't naturally cooperate — kobolds are territorial and xenophobic. If they're providing tactical support to goblin assault troops, something is organizing them deliberately. That's officer-class behavior, possibly hobgoblin leadership, possibly something else.

The fortifications confirm it. Monsters don't dig ditches but Nests do.

You need to move quickly. Not next week. Now, if possible.

Talk to your neighboring Lords tonight. Pool whatever forces you can. Even if you can't destroy it outright, you need to disrupt the consolidation before it completes. Hit them while they're still merging, before the command structure solidifies.

I can send a shipment of healing potions at cost if you coordinate an attack within the next week. I need Lords in the south to survive. We all do.

Message me directly with your coordination status and I'll advise on tactics.

Henri read the reply twice.

At cost.

Harold was offering healing potions — the only healing potions available anywhere, the thing that made the Landing's soldiers worth three of anyone else's — to Lords he'd never met, for nothing more than the cost of production. Because Harold was the only one who could make them. The only source. And he was using that monopoly not to squeeze every advantage, but to build goodwill across the entire continent.

It was brilliant. Brilliant and infuriating.

Every Lord who received those potions would owe Harold a debt. Every settlement that survived because of his guidance would remember who helped them. He was building alliances without ever leaving his keep, without spending a single soldier, simply by being helpful.

And Henri couldn't even object. What would he say? Stop sharing information that saves lives? Stop being generous with your monopoly on the one resource that actually matters?

The comments kept coming.

Lord Abbas — Thornfield

@Lord Harold, I’m close, if Lakeview coordinates an attack, I'll commit fifty soldiers. It's not much, but it's what I can spare. We can't let nests form unopposed.

Lord Priya Sharma — Lakeview Crossing

@Lord Abbas — Thank you. I'm reaching out to everyone within three days' march. @Lord Harold, I'll message you tonight with our coordination plan.

Adventurer — Silver

This man is literally holding humanity together and some Lords are still talking shit about him on the forums. Wild.

Adventurer — Mike "Bonecrusher" Tanaka

Harold really said "here's how to save your settlement, here's proof I did it, here's free advice, AND here's potions at cost" in one post. meanwhile my Lord charged me three days labor for a bandage

Crafter — Jenny Wu

The potions at cost thing is actually insane when you think about it. He's the ONLY person who can make them. He could charge literally anything. And he's offering them at production cost to strangers. Maybe release how you are making them?

Adventurer — CrossbowCarl

inb4 someone says he's doing it for political influence. yeah no shit. difference is he's doing something worth influencing for. my Lord's idea of diplomacy is yelling at the next village over about a den we cleared a month ago for mining rights.

Crafter — Omar Hassan

My wife is pregnant. First baby since we got here. I've been terrified of complications with no real medicine. Just knowing Harold's potions exist and might be available... I don't have words. Thank you isn't enough.

Adventurer — Ladyuwu 

Do you have a girlfriend?

Henri closed the forum interface with a sharp mental flick.

His hands were shaking. Not with fear — with something colder. Something that had been building since the river crossing, since the first centaur raid, since the first adventurer slipped through his lines and harmed his men in the dark.

He should have been the one to find that nest. He should have been the one claiming World Firsts, building alliances, and positioning himself as humanity's protector. He had the bloodline for it, the education, the instincts for political maneuvering that Harold couldn't possibly match.

But Harold had soldiers, scouts, and a spy network that could infiltrate enemy settlements. Harold had potions, resources, and knowledge from sources Henri couldn't identify. Harold had everything, and he kept accumulating more while Henri clawed for every inch of ground.

It's not fair, something in him whispered, and he crushed the thought immediately.

Fairness was for children. The world rewarded results.

He would get his results. He would take Haven, break Harold's expansion, and show every Lord on the forum that the Landing could bleed just like anyone else. And then he would be the one offering guidance, the one building alliances, the one whose name carried weight.

The tent flap rustled again. One of his scouts this time — a wiry woman named Vance who'd proven herself adept at staying unseen.

"My Lord." She was breathing hard, sweat cutting trails through the dust on her face. "We found them."

Henri straightened. "The adventurers."

"Yes, my Lord. About two miles ahead, where our path passes between two hills." Vance swallowed. "They've dug in. Trenches, stakes, archer positions on the high ground. They're not running anymore."

Two miles. Close enough to reach before dark if he pushed.

"How many?"

"We counted at least sixty. Probably more in the treeline where we couldn't get a clear view. They've got good sight lines on the road — anyone approaching is going to be visible for a long time before they reach the position."

Henri's ring turned slowly. Sixty adventurers in a prepared position. Not enough to stop his army — not even close — but enough to delay him further. Enough to buy Harold one more day, two more days, however long it took for Haven's walls to be reinforced.

No.

No more delays. No more bleeding. No more letting Harold dictate the pace of this war.

"The terrain behind their position," Henri said. "Describe it."

Vance blinked at the question. "Wooded slope, my Lord. Drops off toward a creek bed maybe half a mile back. Rocky ground, scattered brush."

"Passable for infantry?"

"Difficult, but yes. If you knew where you were going."

Henri nodded slowly. Six days of harassment had taught him something after all. Harold's people fought like water — flowing around obstacles, slipping away before you could close your fist. They wouldn't stand and die for a hill. The trenches were meant to bloody his nose and buy time, not to hold to the last man.

Which meant they had an escape route planned. Probably several.

"Get Arjun," Henri said. "And Commander Sato. I want all officers at my tent in ten minutes."

Vance nodded and disappeared.

Henri stood alone for a moment, looking at his hands. The dirt under his nails. The mark from his ring. The accumulated grime of six days that no amount of washing could fully remove.

Let them dig in, he thought. Let them think their little hill will save them.

When his officers arrived — Arjun alert and eager, Sato impassive as always, the others arrayed behind them with varying degrees of anticipation — Henri didn't waste time with preamble.

"There's a defensive position ahead," he said. "Harold's adventurers. Sixty or more, dug in on the high ground."

Arjun's hand went to his katar. "We go around?"

"No." Henri's voice was flat. "We go through. But we're not going to repeat the mistakes of the last six days."

He moved to the map spread across his field table, weighted down with stones at the corners.

"They've been bleeding us and running. Hit and fade, over and over. They're not fanatics — they won't die for that hill when they can escape and hit us again tomorrow." His finger traced the terrain behind the adventurer position. "There's a wooded slope here, dropping toward a creek. That's their exit."

Sato leaned forward slightly — the first real interest Henri had seen from the man since the march began.

"Commander Sato," Henri continued, "you'll take two hundred men. Circle wide to the east, through this tree cover here. Move fast, move quiet. I want you in position behind them before we begin the assault."

"And when they run?" Sato's voice was soft, but there was something hungry in it.

"They won't get far." Henri straightened. "We hit the front, they break for their escape route, and they run straight into you. No more slipping away in the dark. No more harassment. We end them."

Arjun was nodding now, that eager gleam in his eyes. "And the frontal assault?"

"Full commitment. All remaining forces. We hit them hard enough that running looks like the only option." Henri's ring caught the lamplight as he turned. "I want them panicked. I want them thinking only about escape. I want them so focused on getting out that they don't realize the trap until it's already closed."

One of his captains shifted. "If they hold instead of running—"

"Then we take the position by storm and Commander Sato joins the assault from behind. Either way, we win." Henri looked around the tent, meeting each officer's gaze in turn. "We have spent six days being harried, sabotaged, and bled by an enemy that refuses to stand and fight. That ends today. No more tactical retreats. No more clever harassment. Today, Harold loses sixty fighters he cannot replace."

He stepped toward the tent flap, pushing it aside to reveal the afternoon light beyond.

"Commander Sato — you have one hour to get your men into position. Signal when you're ready." Henri turned back. "The rest of you, prepare for assault. We hit them before sundown."

Sato was already moving, selecting officers with quick gestures. Arjun lingered a moment longer.

"A good plan, my Lord."

Henri didn't answer. He was thinking about the look on Harold's face when he learned his precious adventurers had been trapped and broken. When he realized that Henri could learn, could adapt, could turn the tactics of harassment back against their originators.

Let's see you slip away from this one.

The column formed with practiced efficiency.

Henri watched from the raised position of a wagon as his captains shouted orders, soldiers falling into ranks with the discipline of men who'd drilled this a hundred times. Three hundred soldiers — the remainder after Sato's flanking force had split off an hour ago. Arjun's contingent anchored the left flank, their indigo chevrons bright against the afternoon dust. The right side looked thinner without Lady Aiko's soldiers, but the formation held.

The hills rose ahead of them, two rounded shoulders of earth flanking the path like gateposts. The ground between them was open, maybe two hundred yards of gentle slope leading up to the prepared positions. Henri could see movement on the crests — figures shifting behind earthworks, the glint of metal catching the late sun.

Sixty adventurers. Perhaps more.

Against three hundred soldiers, with two hundred more circling behind them.

The math was simple. The outcome was certain. The only question was cost.

"First wave, advance!" one of his captains bellowed.

Seventy soldiers stepped forward, shields raised, moving in a tight block toward the base of the hills. They'd learned from the centaur raids, every man protected by the man beside him.

Arrows began to fall when they reached the hundred-yard mark.

Henri watched the shafts arc down from the hilltops, most deflecting off raised shields, a few finding gaps. Two soldiers stumbled. One went down and didn't rise. The formation closed ranks and kept advancing.

"Steady!" The captain's voice carried across the field. "Shields up! Keep moving!"

More arrows. The adventurers had good positions, good angles, but not enough bows to stop the advance. Henri had expected that. Adventurers were skirmishers, not line infantry. They could harass, delay, annoy — but they couldn't hold against a determined assault.

The first wave reached the base of the left hill and began climbing.

That's when the screaming started.

Henri stood on his tiptoes, trying to see past the dust and movement. The lead elements of the formation had... stopped. Some were stumbling backward. Others had collapsed entirely, their shields falling from slack fingers.

"What—"

A purple haze drifted up from the slope, visible even at this distance. The soldiers who'd been climbing were dropping, one after another, their bodies going limp before they hit the ground.

"Poison!" someone shouted. "They've poisoned the—"

The cry cut off as another section of the formation walked into the cloud. Men crumpled. Shields clattered. The advance ground to a halt as the survivors scrambled back from the spreading haze.

"Pull them back!" Henri snapped. "Get them out of there!"

Horns sounded. The first wave retreated in ragged clusters, dragging unconscious comrades, leaving their dead — no, not dead, Henri realized. Sleeping. The fallen soldiers were still breathing, their chests rising and falling in the purple mist.

Sleeping potions. Harold's damned potions, buried in the ground like mines and triggered by — what? Pressure? Trip wires?

From the hilltop, someone laughed. The sound carried down the slope, loud and mocking.

"Hey! You dropped something!"

An adventurer stood at the crest, waving cheerfully at the retreating soldiers. Another appeared beside him, cupping hands around his mouth.

"Don't worry, they'll wake up in a few hours! Might have a headache though!"

More laughter from the positions above. Henri's jaw tightened until his teeth ached.

Sato should be in position by now, he thought. Or close to it. When they run, they'll run straight into him.

"Second wave," he said, his voice flat. "Advance on the right hill. Avoid the left slope entirely. We will crush them in detail."

The formation shifted. Fresh soldiers moved forward, angling toward the right side of the field. The right hill looked cleaner — no purple haze or collapsed bodies. Perhaps Harold's people had only had time to prepare one approach.

The second wave made it fifty yards before the ground opened beneath them.

Pit traps. Not deep enough to kill — maybe eight feet, lined with something soft that cushioned the falls — but deep enough to swallow an entire rank of soldiers in an instant. The formation buckled as men vanished into holes that hadn't existed moments before, their shields and weapons clattering down with them.

"Get them out!" Arjun was already moving, his soldiers rushing forward with ropes. "Form up around the pits! Watch your footing!"

But there were more pits. And more. The slope was riddled with them, covered by thin layers of branches and dirt that collapsed under any real weight. Soldiers who tried to advance found themselves stepping into empty air. Those who tried to go around found more traps. The entire approach had been turned into a maze of hidden obstacles.

"They can't have dug all of this," one of Henri's captains muttered, staring at the chaos. "Not in a few hours. This is days of preparation."

Henri said nothing. His ring was cutting into his finger.

"Third wave," he ordered. "Probe for stable ground. Mark the pits and advance around them."

Slower now. More careful. His soldiers picked their way up the slope, testing each step, moving in single file where the terrain allowed. The adventurers on the hilltop watched them come, occasionally loosing an arrow but mostly just... waiting.

Why aren't they pressing the advantage? Henri thought. They should be slaughtering us while we're disorganized.

The answer came when the third wave reached the halfway point.

A rumbling sound, deep and grinding, rose from somewhere beneath the earth. Henri felt it through the wagon's wheels before he heard it — a vibration that built and built until the ground itself seemed to groan.

Then a voice rang out from the hilltop, clear and carrying.

"HEY BETH! BABE! YOU WATCHING THIS?"

Henri's head snapped toward the sound. A figure stood at the crest of the right hill, silhouetted against the sky. Not an adventurer — he wasn't wearing armor, the stance too casual. The man held something in his hands. A pickaxe, Henri realized. A simple mining tool.

"SHE'S NOT HERE, JOSH!" one of the adventurers shouted back.

"SHUT UP, I'M HAVING A MOMENT!" The man — Josh — raised the pickaxe over his head, practically bouncing on his heels. "SORRY GUYS! NOTHING PERSONAL!"

And he brought it down with a shimmer of light blue around him.

The impact shouldn't have done anything. A pickaxe hitting dirt. A single blow against a hillside. But the sound that followed was like nothing Henri had ever heard — a crack that split the air, followed by a roar of shifting earth.

The entire face of the hill sheared away.

Tons of soil and stone slid downward in a cascading wave, not fast enough to crush the soldiers below but more than enough to reshape the terrain in seconds. Where there had been a gentle slope, there was now a wall of loose earth — a lip nearly ten feet high, stretching across the entire frontage of the assault.

The third wave scrambled back as the landslide settled. Dust billowed up in a choking cloud. Somewhere in the chaos, soldiers were shouting, cursing, trying to find their footing on ground that had suddenly become vertical.

Henri stared.

"What the fuck," he said quietly.

The man on the hilltop — the one with the pickaxe — was laughing. Not the mocking laughter of the adventurers, but genuine, delighted amusement. He planted the tool against his shoulder and waved down at the army below.

"That's a crafter for you!" one of the adventurers shouted. "Josh! Josh! Josh!"

The chant spread along the hilltop positions. The defenders were laughing, cheering, stamping their feet in rhythm. Some of them were making obscene gestures at the stalled assault.

"Come on up!" another voice called down. "Oh wait, you can't! Someone moved the stairs!"

More laughter. Someone threw a rock — not at the soldiers, but at the newly-formed wall, where it bounced off with a hollow thunk.

"Seriously though, are you guys okay down there? That looked rough!"

"We've got water if you need it! It's not poisoned, promise!"

The adventurers dissolved into cackling. Henri could hear them slapping each other's backs, pointing at the chaos below, treating the entire assault like entertainment.

"Josh," Arjun said, moving up beside Henri's wagon. "They were chanting his name. I've heard it before — he's supposed to be Harold's engineer. His builder."

"An engineer did that?"

"A crafter." Arjun's hand was white-knuckled on his katar. "With perks. I didn't know they could—" He stopped, jaw tight. "My informants reported that Harold kept a small inner circle. People he trusted with everything. This must be one of them."

"And Harold sent him here to delay us."

"Or he came on his own." Arjun's eyes moved to the earthen wall, reassessing. "Either way, we underestimated what a crafter can do."

Henri looked at the wall of earth blocking his advance. Ten feet high, maybe more in places. Loose soil, unstable — not impossible to climb, but slow. Anyone trying to scale it would be easy targets for the archers above.

With Sato's two hundred, he could have split forces — sent fresh troops around while the adventurers focused on the frontal assault. But Sato was already committed to the flanking maneuver, circling behind the hills to cut off retreat.

Good, Henri thought. Let them laugh. When they try to run, Sato will be waiting.

"We go through," he said. "Now. Before they have time to prepare more surprises."

"Fourth wave!" Henri raised his voice. "Scaling parties forward! Ladders if you have them, ropes if you don't! I want men on that hilltop in twenty minutes!"

The assault resumed.

His soldiers advanced toward the earthen wall with grim determination, shields raised against the arrows that began falling immediately. The first men to reach the barrier started climbing, boots scraping for purchase in the loose soil, hands grabbing at roots and stones.

Arrows took two of them before they reached the halfway point. A third made it higher before something whistled past his head and he flinched, lost his grip, and tumbled back down. But others were climbing now, dozens of them, and the adventurers couldn't target everyone at once.

Then the wall exploded outward.

Not the whole thing — just a section, maybe ten feet wide. The soil burst apart from the inside, and something came through. Something green and snarling and very, very confused.

Goblins.

A couple dozen of them, maybe more, scrambling out of a tunnel that had been hidden inside the earthen barrier. They blinked in the sudden light, shrieked at the soldiers surrounding them, and attacked in every direction at once.

The formation dissolved into chaos.

More sections of the wall burst open. More tunnels. More goblins — disoriented, panicked, lashing out at anything nearby. They weren't coordinated, weren't organized, weren't even particularly dangerous on their own. But they were everywhere, and Henri's soldiers couldn't tell the difference between a confused goblin and a deliberate attack.

"They herded them in there," Arjun said, something like admiration creeping into his voice despite his anger. "Captured them, kept them in the tunnels, and released them into our formations."

"They're using monsters as weapons."

"They're using everything as weapons."

Henri watched his assault fragment. Soldiers who'd been climbing the wall had to drop back to deal with goblins at their feet. Formations that had held tight through arrows and pit traps broke apart trying to deal with enemies emerging from the ground itself. The adventurers on the hilltop weren't even shooting anymore — they were too busy laughing.

"I TOLD you we should have fed them first!" someone shouted from above. "Hungry goblins are MEAN goblins!"

"They're not mean, they're just confused! Poor little guys!"

"RUN, GOBLIN BRETHREN! BE FREE!"

The goblins, for their part, seemed just as eager to escape the battle as the soldiers were to kill them. Half of them were already fleeing toward the treeline, shrieking in what might have been terror or rage or both. The other half were fighting anything that moved, including each other.

It was chaos. Complete, deliberate chaos.

And somewhere in the middle of it, Henri realized something had changed.

The goblins were scattering. His soldiers were reforming. The immediate chaos was settling into something like order, and the hill — that damned wall of earth — was still there, still climbable, still between him and the adventurers who'd made a mockery of his assault.

"Resume the advance," he said. "Now. Before they regroup."

The horns sounded. His soldiers surged forward again, climbing the earthen barrier with grim determination. This time there were no sleeping mines, no pit traps, no goblins bursting from hidden tunnels. The adventurers had spent their tricks.

Now it was just fighting.

The first soldiers crested the wall and met resistance immediately. Henri watched from below as his men clashed with the defenders — and for the first time, he saw how adventurers actually fought.

They moved like water, flowing around the soldiers who tried to pin them down, striking from angles that shouldn't have been possible. One woman with a spear seemed to dance between three of his men, her weapon flickering out to hamstring one, disarm another, and knock the third off-balance before any of them could land a blow. Then she was gone, sprinting back toward the hilltop, laughing as she ran.

"They're not trying to hold," Arjun said, climbing up beside Henri's position for a better view. "Look — they're giving ground deliberately. Drawing us in."

He was right. The adventurers fought in short, vicious bursts, then retreated. Fought, retreated. Fought, retreated. Always moving backward, always toward the crest of the hill, always making his soldiers pay for every yard of ground without ever truly committing to a stand.

"They're buying time," Henri said. "For what?"

It doesn't matter, he reminded himself. Sato is behind them. There's nowhere to run.

The answer came when the first wave of his soldiers reached the hilltop.

The ground opened up.

Not pit traps this time — actual tunnels. Dark openings in the earth, barely wide enough for a man to squeeze through, scattered across the back slope of the hill. The adventurers were diving into them headfirst, disappearing underground like rabbits into warrens.

Henri's stomach dropped.

Underground. They're going underground.

Sato's men were positioned on the surface, watching the wooded slope and the creek bed beyond. Watching for runners breaking from the treeline. Not for moles burrowing beneath the earth.

"After them!" one of his captains shouted. "Don't let them—"

A soldier lunged toward the nearest tunnel entrance. A hand shot out of the darkness, grabbed his ankle, and yanked. He went down face-first, his helmet ringing against stone, and then he was being dragged into the hole by something he couldn't see.

His screaming lasted about three seconds before it cut off.

"RELAX, HE'S FINE!" a voice echoed up from underground. "JUST A LITTLE UNCONSCIOUS! MAYBE A CONCUSSION!"

"Sorry about your guy!" another voice added, more distant. "He'll wake up eventually!"

More soldiers were converging on the tunnel entrances now, but the adventurers had the advantage. They knew the layout. They'd dug these passages themselves, or had Josh dig them. Every time a soldier tried to follow, something went wrong — a hand darting out to trip them, a thrown knife from the darkness, a sudden cave-in that sealed the passage behind the retreating defenders.

"Collapse the tunnels," Arjun suggested. "Bury them."

"With what? We don't have that crafter."

From somewhere underground, muffled by layers of earth, Henri heard singing. Actual singing. The adventurers were singing as they retreated, their voices carrying up through the tunnel openings in fragments.

"—Josh dropped a hill on your parade, now Henri needs his diaper changed—"

"—marched all week through mud and rain, and all you got was goblin stains—"

"Are they making up songs about us?" one of Henri's officers asked, incredulous.

"I believe so," Arjun said. His jaw was tight, but there was something else in his expression — the look of a man watching an opponent play a move he hadn't anticipated.

The fighting continued in pockets across the hilltop. A few adventurers had stayed behind to cover the retreat — the crazy ones, Henri assumed, or the ones with the fastest respawn timers. They fought like demons, taking wounds that should have killed them and keeping going, buying seconds for their companions to disappear underground.

One of them — a massive man with a tower shield — held a tunnel entrance against six soldiers for nearly a minute before they finally brought him down. Even then, he was laughing, blood on his teeth.

"Worth it!" he shouted as they pinned him. "Totally worth it! Tell Henri his hair looks stupid!"

"My hair is fine," Henri muttered, though no one was close enough to hear.

Then he saw Josh.

The crafter was at the far end of the hilltop, near the largest tunnel entrance, and he was very clearly trying to stay. Two adventurers had him by the arms and were physically dragging him away while he struggled against them.

"Wait — wait — one more—" Josh was reaching back toward the battlefield, pickaxe in hand, trying to swing it at something. "Just let me — I can collapse that whole section if you just—"

"YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH, JOSH."

"But I can see their supply wagons from here! One good hit and—"

"TIME TO LEAVE, JOSH."

"Beth is going to be so mad she missed this—"

"SHE'S GOING TO BE MAD YOU'RE HERE AT ALL. IN. THE. HOLE."

The adventurers shoved him headfirst into the tunnel. His legs kicked briefly in the air, the pickaxe waving wildly, and then he was gone — pulled down into the darkness by hands Henri couldn't see.

"NO BUT SERIOUSLY," Josh's voice echoed back up, growing fainter, "DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES WHEN THE HILL MOVED? THAT WAS THE BEST—"

The voice cut off as the tunnel entrance collapsed behind him, sealing shut with a rumble of falling earth.

Henri stood on the wagon, staring at the pile of dirt where the crafter had been.

A runner appeared at his elbow, breathing hard. "My Lord — message from Commander Sato."

"Report."

"He's in position. No contact with fleeing enemies. He asks if he should advance on the tunnels from behind."

Henri closed his eyes.

The tunnels didn't surface where he'd expected. They went under Sato's position, under the wooded slope, probably emerging somewhere past the creek bed where no one was watching. The adventurers had planned for encirclement. They'd planned for everything.

"Tell him to hold position," Henri said. "They're already gone."

The runner hesitated, clearly wanting to ask something, then thought better of it and ran.

Henri looked at the battlefield. Sleeping soldiers from the potion mines. Men being hauled out of pits. Others nursing wounds from adventurers who'd fought like cornered animals. A few bodies — his own, and a handful of adventurers who'd pushed too hard and paid for it. They'd respawn somewhere, he knew. Back at Haven, probably, ready to fight again tomorrow.

Casualties were... minimal. Embarrassingly minimal, for what should have been a decisive assault on a prepared position. They'd taken the hills. They'd driven off the defenders. But it didn't feel like victory.

"Secure the position," Henri said quietly. "Account for all wounded. Post sentries on every tunnel entrance in case they decide to come back."

"They won't come back," Arjun said. "They've done what they came to do."

"And what was that? Delay us?"

Arjun was quiet for a moment, looking at the collapsed tunnel where Josh had disappeared.

"Show us what we're fighting," he said finally. "That crafter. Those tunnels. The way they move, the way they think. None of this is normal warfare, Henri. We just got toyed with. Maybe we should rethink this attack."

Henri's ring turned slowly against his finger.

"It doesn't matter what he's building. We need to cut Harold down a peg if we are going to stand a chance against him." He looked at the earthen wall Josh had created, still standing, still splitting his approach in two. "Let them have their tricks. Let them have their laughter. When the walls come down, none of it will matter."

He climbed down from the wagon and started walking back toward camp, leaving his officers to clean up the mess.

Behind him, the hilltop was silent. The tunnels were sealed. The adventurers were gone — slipped through fingers that should have closed around them.

But somewhere in the distance, carried on the evening wind, Henri could swear he heard someone still singing.

"—came for glory, left with shame, Henri's balls will never be the same—"

He walked faster.