As the village burned in the distance, the reinforcements quickly galloped towards the settlement, riding their horses through the darkness and piercing through the mist in a wedge formation, with Sir Daymon at the very tip of it.

  After hearing a malicious sound of an unfamiliar horn, they saw the lines of rugol soldiers appear in front of them. They rushed from both sides towards the road like a black tide and blocked it right in front of the cavalry, and they braced their spears ready for the impact, and behind them, Nal'zuk's clan of armored ur'gluns awaited a fight with their weapons drawn.

  "Brace your spears!“ Sir Daymon yelled from the tip of the formation as he pointed his warhammer towards his enemies, and his horse galloped through the darkness and the mist. The first line of heavy cavalry, knights of the kingdom, mostly young but well trained, followed by the light cavalry, consisting of mounted militiamen, charged at the rugol formations with courage and might unseen for many years of peace in the kingdom. The spears clashed and broke against the armor plates, leaving many dead on both sides, as their heavy armored horses plunged straight through many rows of the rugol soldiers as the knights swung their blades to kill and maim, and the blood of both kins was spilled. Sir Daymon swung his heavy hammer with unrivaled might and caved in the helmets and cracked the skulls, shoulders, and ribs from horseback, as the arrows bounced off his armor and the spears shattered against his chestplate, and the knights followed behind him, swinging their blades at rugol hordes, but many fell impaled by their dark spears, and their horses fell maimed by their curved blades, with their legs cut clear off by the beasts of darkness.

  After the initial charge, the winds of battle slowly changed in the favor of Nal'zuk's forces, as the human cavalry was eventually stopped in its tracks by the well-disciplined rugol war machine, and the ur'glun skirmishers, together with many wolves and other beasts of the woods, rushed at both flanks of the halted cavalry, together with Na'zuk himself, who rode his great wolf into battle.

  "Spears up!“ One of the veteran soldiers yelled as the chaos prevailed in the ranks of men, and the rest of the cavalry raised their spears to stop the advance of the beasts that poured from all sides, and many were impaled as they leaped at the human army, but eventually, the knights and soldiers were taken down from their horses by the ur'glun horde and their wolves. The growls raged through the mist as the ferocious beast dragged the fallen men across the ground and ur'gluns slaughtered them one by one, and the rest dismounted their horses and formed a tight formation of heavy infantry with spears and shields pointing outwards,the remaining rugols charged at them and the battle ensued, as the men held their shields high and the rows behind them plunged their spears through the armours of their foes, but the formation was met with equally organized force that fought in unison on the opposing side, and as two phalanxes fought, they spun counterclockwise and many fell dead on both sides, and the spears clashed against the shields and the armours, often finding their ways between the plates and through the flesh of men or the beasts that they fought. Each rugol that fell or was wounded was quickly replaced by the one behind him, creating a seemingly immortal formation that could never fall as long as they stood together with their shields and blades linked in a flawless chain, and the men matched their courage and discipline with their own, with the heavy armored knights and legionnaires in the front and the lightly armored dismounted cavalrymen behind them. And among the human ranks, Sir Daymon fought with a long spear that he found on the battlefield, as his warhammer rested upon his back. Nal'zuk was clearly aware that his clan was not disciplined or trained enough to match the two formations; the most common tactic that the ur'gluns used was to ferociously charge at their foes and overwhelm them with the strength of numbers, but not wishing to spend many lives of his folk, he ordered them to equip their bows, surround the human formation, and rain upon them with arrows. And as he ordered, his followers did. And soon, the human phalanx was surrounded by the many ur'glun skirmishers that shot the arrows at them, as the projectiles bounced off the shields and occasionally found their way between and pierced the chain armors of the lightly armored units. And as the battle raged on, the human phalanx slowly shrank in numbers until there was but a handful of them left.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Fight till the end!“ Sir Daymon yelled as he counted the minutes until his demise. The only escape that the men could count on was an honorable death and the ascension to the golden halls. But as his brothers in arms fell around him, Nal'zuk had planned a different destiny for the knight.

  "Yield, filth!“ The warchief yelled as Daymon stood with a handful of men that remained, surrounded by what remained of the rugol legion and the ur'glun hordes.

  "Never!“ The man yelled and charged at his foe with his hammer held high in his arms. But a sudden shot of pain pierced his knee, and as he fell on the ground among the corpses of his men and their foes, it was clearly a bolt fired from the warchief's crossbow that went straight through his armor and kneecap.

  "Slaughter the rest, disarm the knight; I need him alive.“ Nal'zuk said nonchalantly, and the rugols charged with their spears from all sides, impaling what remained of the Daymon's men.

  A couple of minutes later, beaten and disarmed, Sir Daymon was dragged before Nal'zuk and his wolf.

  "Bandage his wounds! Stop the bleeding!“ The warchief yelled with his crooked goblin voice, and the rugol archers that stood beside him quickly did his bidding. And as they took care of the man's wounds, Na'zuk approached him, grabbed his chin with his cold, armored hand, and yelled,

  "I want you to go back to your commander! Tell him about the losses that were inflicted, and tell him that you never reached the village!“ And as the ur'glun yelled to his face, the wounded knight barely held himself on his arms.

  "And let them remember my name, Nal'zuk! The Death of Mankind!“ And as soon as Nal'zuk released his chin, the knight fell flat on the floor.

  "Dig out his right eye! Let him remember his defeat!“ The warchief growled as he walked away, and soon the field was filled with screams as the rugols did what their warchief commanded.

  As the morning dawned, the remaining troops awaited in the army encampment as the worry grew among the ranks, and soon enough, from a white horizon appeared Sir Daymon, stripped of his armor, beaten and bloody, with his right eye gorged out, barely holding himself on his feet.

  "Healer! Get the healer!“ one of the guards screamed and ran towards the wounded knight. And soon enough, Daymon was taken into the camp, and as the healers took care of his wounds, he spoke to the marshal:

  "They've intercepted us... The cavalry has fallen; the bloodied bodies rest upon the fields!" He stated while catching his breath,

  "We faced the foes yet unseen! Their dark legion fought as one, and their shield wall was unbreakable. Those things were more than the common ur'gluns!“ And after he finished his sentence, he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.

  "The prophecy may be true. The dark times are upon us!“ As Aryon proclaimed, the dread slowly filled the ranks of men, for they knew that what dwelt in those woods was far greater than their leaders had previously expected.