Getting all of the wizards out onto the battlefield was a major operation in itself. They were powerful, but vulnerable too. A fast countercharge or an enemy mage could have easily dispatched a concentrated group within seconds. War carried risks for everyone.

  The experienced guild members knew what they were doing. They dressed themselves in their fanciest clothes and proudly stood by, waiting for their assistants to get ready. An entire team of halberdiers was dispatched to support them, ready to step in if the goblins tried anything. Separate men holding horses stood a short distance away. The wizards would be able to get to safety behind the ranks of friendly soldiers no matter what happened.

  The commoner recruits were a little more hesitant. This would be their first time facing a real enemy.

  They were provided with color coded robes by Elvira’s academy, but they still looked a little sheepish. Most were just teenagers, even if technically the ranks of combat mages contained the older drop outs from the main guild too. They were urged forward as the Court Mage encouraged them to keep calm and remember their lessons.

  Their noble seniors would be able to deploy shields in case the enemy had some slingers in their midst, but for training, a second category of recruits was brought in as well. Shield mages needed to get used to battle and familiarize themselves with all of their rituals under stress. If they failed, it was better to do it now in relative safety, rather than on a real battlefield.

  The mages walked closer to the stream. Technically they could outrange projectiles, but this was more difficult. For fresh students, Elvira decided to bring them closer. She was confident that the young students would be protected if anything happened and they could benefit from applying their full power from up close.

  The regular troops were ready to advance and defend the crossing if the enemy had some plan hidden up their sleeve. The soldiers were confident. From their perspective, it was difficult to see this battle as anything other than an obvious, overwhelming victory.

  The goblins stared back at the humans with emotionless, disciplined eyes. They formed up for battle, as their commanders barked out orders.

  The soldiers tightened their square formation. A large, proud banner was lifted in the center, while everyone around it raised their shields. The ones on the side tried to cover their bodies, while the ones in the center held them up in the air. Now, the goblins would be protected from projectiles falling from the sky.

  Varre recognized this move. It reminded him of the turtle formation used by the ancient Romans. It seemed like the enemy was not planning to deploy slingers of their own after all. They were confident to stand there and accept arrow fire from the human side.

  If that was the king’s plan, perhaps it would have worked. Perhaps these two thousand goblins would have exhausted Varre’s supply of arrows with minimal casualties and forced his army to advance into melee. But this was not the intention.

  Elvira turned towards her own commanders and signaled her readiness for battle. Her assistants raised up her own banner, while another one blew into his horn.

  Varre looked across his own lines. The men were ready. The slaughter was about to begin.

  He checked in with his own advisors, one last time, but each nodded in turn. There was no reason to delay further. The scouts had not spotted any sudden ambushes or enemy reinforcements even as they densely spread out throughout the nearby forest. At least not yet.

  The king raised his hand and the herald next to him blew into a horn in response. The permission to attack was granted. Elvira turned away and pointed towards the goblin square.

  The senior mages stayed back. This was the recruits’ time to shine. The commoners started to scream and gestured wildly as they threw out spells and magical projectiles straight into the midst of the enemy formation.

  The sight was strangely beautiful. The balls of energy were visible from a distance as they glittered in different colors. Some were larger than others. Some were more solid, while others appeared to flicker. Even the speeds they flew at differed slightly.

  With the several dozen that were sent out, it was impossible to track where each one went. But the results were undeniable.

  The whole battlefield went silent, as everyone bated their breath. Then, the explosions rang out.

  Their shields were useless. Goblins were thrown about as magical forces pushed them aside in every direction. Huge holes appeared in the square, where a solid roof stood just seconds before.

  The formation fell into disarray when their own comrades started raining down from above. Some of the soldiers survived the first attack with heavy bruising alone, but many perished.

  Now the goblins understood their position. What the hell will they try now, Varre wondered to himself, as he squinted his eyes. He still expected some reinforcements to appear from the forest. Now that it became obvious that his side could destroy them safely from a distance, they had to react somehow.

  Instead, the goblin leaders started yelling out orders again as the troops quickly recovered. Within twenty seconds, the formation was completely rebuilt. It was a little smaller and the bodies strewn all over their side of the riverbank clearly explained the absence of some of the men. For some reason, the enemy was adamant to keep up this charade and hold their position.

  The mages didn’t hesitate. They prepared a second volley and released it into the heart of the repaired square. It was just as effective. The goblins may have braced a little better knowing what to expect, but the recruits gained some confidence in return.

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  Again, a couple hundred of the soldiers fell, without any recourse. And again, they reformed into a slightly smaller shape, willing to take heavy casualties for no discernible reason or benefit.

  Varre simply couldn’t understand this. They must have had some sort of plan. Some hidden goal they were working towards. Even if they didn’t have a second army waiting on the other side, they must have been doing something. Was there another attack secretly sneaking their way across the forest? Were they able to get through his scouts unopposed? If not, then why not retreat? They clearly were going to lose.

  After the third volley, Elvira allowed her recruits to fire at will. She still preferred to hold the real experts back, but the commoners were free to go wild.

  If anything, this might have been even more effective. With staggered fire, the goblins didn’t have enough time to fully reform. Some of the projectiles landed in the same spot, one after the other. Without the slightest protection from above, the explosions shred through the soldiers.

  Finally the goblins broke their ranks. It was hard to tell what exactly did the trick. Their loss was obvious from the start. They were just standing there, throwing their lives away. They easily lost over half of their forces before finally turning tail.

  Varre looked away, checking in on the wolf riders. They were stationed several hundred feet behind their allies and now that the infantry was retreating, they decided to flee as well. But something was wrong. Their numbers were fewer than at the beginning of the battle.

  He turned towards his commanders. “Did you see what happened to the rest of the riders?”

  “Yes your majesty,” one of the nobles replied, “a few of them broke off and retreated into the forest after the first volley. Then a few more every so often. It seems like the rest of the stupid cowards finally realized that they never stood a chance against your might.”

  The king was still confused, but he knew something smelled off. He tried to signal to Elvira, warning her to focus on destroying the last group of wolf riders before they got away, but in the chaos of battle, the message wouldn’t reach her in time.

  Now that the enemy was fleeing, the rest of the mages decided to join in the carnage. They wanted to press their advantage and make sure that not a single goblin got away alive today.

  The explosions cast by senior wizards were far more powerful than those by the students. The first few spells tended to kill a few soldiers at once, throwing them all over the area. These new ones could kill dozens, maybe as much as a hundred if the formation was as tight as it had been in the beginning.

  Their entire force had collapsed into chaos, as the goblins fled for their lives. They spread out in three different directions, heading for the safety of the woods and away from the corpse strewn meadow they had created for the purpose of this battle.

  The knights were eager to join in. Chasing down fleeing enemies was their specialty. This is the stage that caused the most casualties and a proper chase is what turned a regular loss into a complete rout. The war could still be continued after a defeat. A rout often ended conflicts after a single battle.

  Varre held them back. He still didn’t know what hid in the dense forests. It could be filled with traps or ambushes that would decimate his forces. On top of that it would take minutes for the light cavalry to cross the stream and follow their enemies. By then, the wolf riders would have a major advantage. Perhaps the last handful of goblin infantry could be caught, but if a few dozen got away, it changed little in the end. It wasn’t worth the risk.

  Instead, he congratulated his forces on the easy victory and ordered the troops to stand down. Scouts were to slowly cross and investigate the other side, while the main army was to make camp for the night.

  It had been a while since they properly rested anyway. The riders would take this time to carefully explore the territory ahead and make sure the soldiers would know what they were getting into.

  The king still didn’t like the situation. He ordered his commanders to double up on the guard and make sure the camp would be well protected. On this side of the stream. If anything unexpected happened overnight, it was better to stay in relative safety rather than get themselves blocked by the water.

  As he finished giving out his orders, he saw a slightly out of breath Perry returning from the battlefield amidst the crowd of mages. He waved her over, making sure that his guards wouldn’t waste their time identifying her.

  “We destroyed them,” she said, smiling proudly.

  “I know. I was there,” Varre joked, “good work.”

  “They didn’t stand a chance,” Perry continued, “even monsters as terrifying as goblins. We wiped out two thousands, with nothing but a handful of mages,” she clenched her fist, “this will be easy.”

  “Don’t get complacent,” Zarkon chastised, coming up from behind her, “this was… I don’t know what that was, but this wasn’t normal. I doubt the next battle will go the same way.”

  The old man may have been a healer, but as an experienced, educated mage, he understood many different fields and esoteric subjects. He didn’t specialize in offensive magic, but an explosion from his hand could kill just as well as any other’s. The only difference was raw power and the capacity for aura.

  “Let her have this one master,” Jury, “she doesn’t often get to show off her power.”

  The other twin extended her tongue. “I don’t need brute force like a barbarian. My magic is more refined. You should try it someday.”

  Her sister was about to retort, when Zarkon stared her down. “Is this is how my apprentices are behaving around royalty? Behave yourselves. Your actions reflect upon me, you know? Don’t give me a bad name.”

  “I don’t think it’s possible to make it any worse than it already is,” Elvira interjected, forcing her way into the conversation, “everyone knows you’re a stuck up miser.”

  The old man scoffed and crossed his arms. “You’re just jealous. Unlike some of our peers,” he gave her a pointed look, “I’m standing on the forefront of magical research. I’m working with things that you wouldn’t even imagine! And I don’t need to be part of no mage guild to do it.”

  “The only good thing that ever came out of your laboratory were these two,” the Court Mage put her arms on the twins’ shoulders, “they’re the real experts here. I’m sure they’ll surpass you ten times over someday. They’ve already taught me a lot,” she smiled.

  Zarkon glared at the sisters, but they remained silent. Varre thought he saw Perry slightly shaking her head, but he wasn’t sure if he didn’t imagine it.

  “Pah, I don’t have time to waste arguing with you,” the old healer gestured with his hand, “let’s get out of here. I’m sure his majesty has much to discuss after the battle,” he gave the king one last look, “congratulations Varre. I mean it. I only hope this is a sign of future victories. But don’t get complacent!”

  Elvira waved him goodbye, happy to finally be rid of him. “Ugh, I can’t stand him,” she groaned once he was out of earshot.

  “Good job out there today,” the king complimented her, “how are the recruits doing?”

  “Tired,” she replied, “but happy. This will give them a huge confidence boost.”

  “I’m glad,” Varre said, curtly, staring out into the forest. His own scouts had already crossed the stream and were carefully exploring the other side. The Elves, more aware of goblin tactics were the first to cross the tree line, investigating the area for hidden traps.

  “Still worried about an ambush?” Elvira asked. She had a serious expression on her face. She too must have thought this was far too easy, even if she tried not to admit it in front of others.

  “The wolf riders managed to get away from the battlefield,” the king explained, “they’ll probably report whatever happened out here. But what the hell was their plan? They sacrificed two thousand people for no reason. They gained nothing.”

  “Maybe not nothing,” the Court Mage said after a moment, “they know we have a lot of mages now.”

  Just what were they thinking? Was this truly a punishment for goblin criminals? Or a sacrifice to gain something more valuable?