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“Are they close?” Grimright was the first to note Frail’s slight shift in demeanor.

Frail didn’t need to reply. His silence spoke loud enough.

They spoke. Why? And… how?

“We’ll wait here. Just like planned. Concentrate our defenses in a single spot.” Grimright relayed Frail’s plans to the rest. “If I may ask… which one of the generals are we facing?”

His domain lord gestured toward his grave lich.

“The mage. Understood.” Grimright pulled his head away, facing his brethren. “We are weak to its flames. Avoid it at all costs.”

Fire… Frail was again reminded of the draugrs’ weakness.

“That’s a shame.” Yrsa spoke, “I’d love to pay the other one back.”

Their disappointment was evident through their stare.

Take command of the warriors. He pushed that thought to his domain lord.

Two out of three generals had appeared… where did the other one go?

Frail paid close attention to Arthur’s camp; the lone Giant hadn’t reached their beacon yet. Its tremors, however, had long quaked the soil beneath it. Bones didn’t take shaking well. It made his staunchest warriors… vulnerable.

Two distinct, separate battlefields. Despite his numbers, all his previous battles happened in a single spot—splitting his vision into two with different densities was a novel experience. While his constructs held a degree of autonomy, Frail’s input utilized their strengths in a way their simple minds couldn’t.

This has to do. His priority would always be his domain. If the humans perished… then so be it. He’d helped them enough, spared them one of his best tools, even. Their demise would only be their fault from this point onward.

Frail’s remaining assassins hid in the deepest crevices of his domain, shrouded by a permanent shadow. The draugrs stood with their weapons at the ready, ear pressed forward, listening to any sound from his entrance.

Lines of green heads painted dark lines into the entrance, their numbers above Frail’s past defenses.

They’re here.

“I heard them,” Yrsa bit her lips, eyes turning to a scowl. “Grimright… Entity…”

The goblins parted into two lines, allowing their general a path between them before Frail's domain. It tapped its staff on the floor, grinning. “Entity…”

I don’t like where this is going.

“I see you have been eating well. Our kind chieftain has taken extra lengths to feed you for the past few days. I hope you find his offering… gratifying.” The general’s grin never left its face.

What? Chieftain… the goblins… feeding me? Hearing that sentence sparked a long-lost feeling within Frail. A feeling he thought he’d lost. A crystal couldn’t emote, speak, nor find a proper outlet to express Frail’s state of mind, so it simply shimmered the color red. His domain lord’s grip on its sword tightened. A skull had no muscles to move its brows and eyes, but even without those, the draugrs sensed the situation had gone awry.

“Entity?” Grimright slid closer. “What is going on? I heard the general’s speech, but their language… it’s...”

Yrsa completed Grimright's sentence, "…nonsensical.”

The staff-wielding general bowed its head. “Pardon my rudeness; I have not introduced myself. My name is Hak’Thar, one of the three generals leading my chieftain’s army.” He stepped closer, stopping an inch before the entrance, “-you have built a great home for yourself. I’m happy to see our efforts have not gone to waste.”

Frail couldn’t answer. He’d assumed the goblins were mere monsters, things to kill and take essences from. But the general’s eloquence challenged that assumption.

“Our chieftain is a peculiar one, you see.” The general chuckled. “He was delighted when he saw the difficulty level. No band of drifters can survive a nightmare invasion… so he chose to make it easier for everyone present.”

By feeding him essences?

“Why is he laughing?” Yrsa growled. Even Grimright shared her reaction.

“This… monotony... We’ve done the same song and dance for… ages-” It waved its hand from left to right, “-you’ll understand once you complete the tutorial.” Hak’thar’s grin faded, “Imagine our delight when the invasion difficult changed. Nightmare means we no longer have to hold back...”

It looked straight into the entrance. “All thanks to your existence.”

Its words puzzled him. What did he mean by that?

“Are you not curious, entity? Why do I speak your language?”

Why? A part of Frail wished he didn’t know. But he did. The answer…

“You… us, our chieftain… are the same, Entity.” Hak’thar raised its hand, its index finger pointing up, “He knows of your fate, of your purpose. He will tell you that purpose, Entity, shall you prove worthy of his time,” Its grin returned. “Although… you may not like what he has to say.”

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The army of goblins raised their weapons and roared. Their collective cries shook the earth beneath their feet, disrupting the ghastly silence thick in his domain.

“Entity?” Grimright raised his head, “-are they-“

A veil of ghastly flames bathed the goblins, feeding them unholy, feral strength. An aura not too dissimilar to his Domain Lord’s ability.

This wasn’t just a defense against mindless monsters. Frail… was fighting against a force not unlike his own.

Their numbers flooded the entrance. The goblins present stood taller, faster, and stronger than their usual form. They split in half and barreled through the empty passages, ignoring all empty rooms as they bolted toward Frail’s defense.

Hak’thar waited inside his domain, right at the entrance.

“They’re here.” Grimright grimaced when their thundering footsteps approached. “From both sides…”

Wait…

His domain lord raised its blade. The archers drew their bowstrings.

Now.

They launched a storm of arrows once the goblins broached the second-last chamber. They wielded decent shields, deflecting Frail’s initial barrage as they charged. The corrosion effect persisted, however.

“[Detect]” The draugrs wasted no time to use their detect scrolls.

No invisible goblins… Is that all?

[Magic Blade] [Eldritch Charge]

Two consecutive skills cleaved their frontmost line into halves before his domain lord reappeared in its original spot.

That can’t be it.

Harsh clangors of metal against metal reverberated, sparks flaring whenever their steel met his army’s metal. The draugrs supplemented Frail’s army. His grave guard’s defensive aura and the domain lord’s magic shield dispersed most, if not all, damage taken.

Push.

His skeleton guards charged, their shields held high. They pushed into the dense line of goblins. At a glance, their strength appeared… equal.

Magic. His lich followed up with a cast of cold rain. A hail of icicles seethed when the green flames thawed them to vapor, producing a cloud of steam and smearing the battlefield with a layer of gray.

Watcher.

Rays of violet lasers bombarded the goblins. Their shrieks of pain announced the effectiveness of the watcher’s beams. The goblins’ movement slowed when they spotted the watcher… But they averted their glares immediately.

His domain lord stood behind the chaos, waiting.

“It’s working!” Grimright shouted. “Keep this up!”

[Drain essence]

Frail immediately attempted to drain the goblins once they fell.

[You cannot drain undeads.]

Undeads. The message confirmed his suspicions. The invading goblins… weren’t the same, or perhaps they had been turned undead at some point…

The green flames… can it be?

“Oh? You have that on your side,” Hak’thar commented, “Nostalgic...” Its chuckle resonated in his entrance, “I see you’re holding back, Entity. That reflects poorly on me.” The general tapped the tail end of his staff on the floor. The skull on it opened its jaw, expelling a dense fog of green, swirling gas. It permeated the entrance, spreading rapidly from room to room before tinting his battlefield green. “The power to raise the dead… two can play that game.”

Grimright raised his head when the tint of green invaded his sight. “What is this?”

The gas seeped into the deceased goblins.

A second passed.

Shiver.

Their mangled, charred bodies trembled, severed limbs attaching into a parody of a goblin’s figure as they scrabbled their way upright.

Undead goblins? Zombies…

Another rain of the watcher’s lasers blasted the once deceased, concluded by his constructs’ assault. They had enough strength to overpower the goblins, but they always scrabbled back up, less recognizable, less… goblin-like—more a ghoul than a goblin each time. The gas grew thicker, and the resurrected goblins grew feral. Their eyes glowed red as their muscles swelled, and their green skins turned a furious shade of scarlet, tough as rocks.

The gas… it’s making them stronger.

The zombie goblins rampaged against his constructs. Each strike bashed their shields away, pushing his army with each feral swing. Strong. His domain lord lifted its blade. Stronger.

A crescent magic wave sliced the goblins in half.

Not strong enough to contend with me… yet. Is there a limit to how powerful they can get?

Did he want to find out?

“ENTITY!” Grimright shouted. “We must stop the source of this haze. We will hold them here-” He hacked away an arm from a nearby goblin, “Go!”

Is it its play to draw my domain lord closer to the outside?

His other card—the assassins—lie in wait, spying on Hak’Thar’s every move. He could risk advancing them… but he knew they’d fail. They were a card he could only play once, realistically. It seemed too risky to send his lord close to the entrance; if the goblins had more surprises left, they could seal his fate with a single swoop.

The question then became: Was Frail being passive… or was he being safe? He honestly couldn’t decide. Not with how little he knew about his invaders. Hak’Thar had thought, plans, a type of adversary he hadn’t faced before.

I need information. A thought resonated in the minds of his army. He sent the bulk of his warriors alongside his Grave lancer and Grave guard forward. Their combined strength blitzed through the wall of crawling goblins and sprinted past the corridors and empty rooms before meeting Hak’thar’s reserve army at the entrance.

The haze revived them, of course. His watcher kept them at bay through its lasers and its eye.

Before long, the grounded constructs made their way into Frail’s entrance.

The lone general stood still, watching. It greeted his soldiers with a smile. “We meet… face to face. Is this your domain lord? No… doesn’t look like one.” He saw its grin curving into a scowl. “These... won't cut it; fight me with your best.”

Was that a taunt? A taunt to draw his strongest soldier away from its post? Frail’s key defense lay in his domain Lord’s survival. Bringing it forward… without proper support…

Protect the lancer. Frail commanded his Grave guard. Buy me time.

“Are you scared?” Hak’thar’s eyes glowed green. “You can’t best us with these, Entity.”

Lance rush. Frail commanded his lancer once his grave guard applied its barrier on it. The lancer vanished briefly before its spear tore through Hak’thar’s silhouette. Except…

“Fast…” It grinned. “I see why you have confidence in these. Had I been alone, they would’ve sufficed. But alas…”

A pair of daggers met his elite lancer’s spear. A regular goblin wouldn’t be able to stop its spear… so this one must be…

The invisible general. One whose name hadn’t been known. The one that killed Grimright’s friends.

“I do not come alone, Entity.” Hak’thar whispered, “-and…” His staff vibrated with pure, ghastly energy. “Let us greet you… officially.”

A sonorous crash erupted across his domain, shaking the entire crypt with its perilous blast.

[Grave lancer construct health: 57%]

[Grave guard construct health: 94%]

Hak’thar’s spell broke the barrier and dealt damage. The blast blew his constructs into all directions, each crashing into the wall with their backs. None were dealt fatal damage… but that display of strength did surprise him.

Two generals. Two armies. The invaders sent everything but Ogrin at him.

If the haze persisted and the goblins kept getting stronger, then Frail’s hands were tied. He must take a risk.

Come forward.

The draugrs watched his domain lord's figure sink into the haze, its blue flames burning as it accepted Frail’s will.

It wants everything I have… so I shall give it exactly that.