Gribble sat astride his Grey Fur Beast atop the blood-soaked hill, yellow eyes gleaming as he surveyed the battlefield below. His skeletal warriors formed an unbroken wall of bone and rusted metal. They stood motionless, empty eye sockets staring blankly ahead as they awaited the coming onslaught.

The stench of death hung thick in the air - a cloying mix of rotting flesh and stagnant blood that filled Gribble's nostrils. He inhaled deeply, savoring the acrid scent. To most it would be revolting, but to the goblin it was the sweet perfume of victory.

A fierce wind whipped across the plain, carrying with it the snarls and howls of the approaching enemy. Gribble's gaze swept across the massed ranks of werewolves and Beastmen. Their fur rippled like grass in a storm as they charged forward, a tidal wave of fang and claw racing toward his lines.

The ground trembled beneath their pounding feet. Each impact sent tremors through the earth, rattling the bones of Gribble's undead soldiers. But still they stood firm, an unyielding barrier of calcium and iron.

Gribble's fingers clenched in the coarse fur of his mount, knuckles turning a pale shade of green. Muscles tensed along his arm, cords standing out beneath his skin. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to join the fray, to wade into the thick of battle and slake his thirst for violence.

The werewolves reached his lines first, their massive forms crashing against the wall of bone like a battering ram. The impact shook the very air, a thunderous boom that Gribble felt in his chest.

For a heartbeat, all was still. Then chaos erupted.

Massive paws swatted aside shields as if they were made of parchment. Jaws strong enough to crush stone clamped down on skulls, pulverizing them to dust. The larger werewolves smashed through the front lines with ease, sending bones flying in all directions.

Yet for every skeleton destroyed, more stepped forward to fill the gap. An endless tide of undeath, utterly tireless and unafraid. They hacked and slashed with rusted blades, their movements mechanical but relentless.

The feline Beastmen darted between the Dark Legion, using their smaller size and greater agility to slip past the undead's defenses. They wreaked havoc from within, razor-sharp claws tearing through magical bonds and severing spines.

Gribble's yellow eyes darted from one skirmish to another, searching for weaknesses to exploit. The battlefield had become a swirling melee of fur and flesh and bone. Neither side seemed to gain a clear advantage.

He gritted his teeth, fingers clenching tighter in his mount's fur as he fought the urge to intervene directly. The Grey Fur Beast shifted restlessly beneath him, sensing its master's agitation. But Gribble held it in check. Not yet. The time to unleash his pet's fury would come.

Above the ground-based melee, Gribble's aerial forces joined the fray. Swarms of mini vampire bats descended upon the werewolves and Beastmen in living clouds. Their wings beat a frenzied rhythm as they dove and swooped, thousands of tiny terrors working in concert.

The bats latched onto any exposed flesh, needle-sharp fangs sinking deep. Each bite alone was insignificant, but their collective assault promised death by a thousand cuts. Blood matted fur as the relentless parasites drank their fill.

Meanwhile, the undead vexes unleashed volley after volley of cursed projectiles. Their unearthly shrieks added to the battlefield's cacophony as they rained spectral death from above. Each missile sought out the living with unerring accuracy, causing pain and disorientation wherever they struck.

Gribble watched with grim satisfaction as his enemies' movements grew sluggish. Blood loss and fatigue would claim them in the end, no matter their strength or determination. Even the mightiest werewolf would fall if bled dry by a thousand tiny mouths.

The werewolves and Beastmen fought back against this aerial assault with desperate ferocity. Massive paws swatted at the bats, crushing dozens with each blow. Feline warriors leapt impossibly high, slashing at vexes with extended claws.

A tiger-headed Beastman snatched a vex from the air, powerful jaws crunching through spectral bone. The undead creature burst into foul-smelling ectoplasm, coating the Beastman's fur. But three more vexes descended on the distracted warrior, peppering him with necrotic bolts.

The sky above the battlefield became as contested as the ground below. Neither side willing to cede control of this crucial dimension of the fight. Bat and vex and Beastman tumbled through the air in a dizzying aerial ballet of tooth and claw and curse.

Gribble allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps victory was not so far out of reach after all. If he could whittle down their numbers from above while his ground forces held the line...

A bone-rattling roar shattered his train of thought.

Gribble's head snapped around, yellow eyes widening as he sought the source. There - charging through the melee like a force of nature given flesh. The alpha werewolf.

It moved with terrifying speed for a creature of its size, each bound covering dozens of feet. Lesser combatants, both living and undead, were scattered like leaves before a storm in its wake. Nothing could stand before its fury.

Those baleful eyes locked onto Gribble once more. The message was clear: This ended now.

Gribble's breath caught in his throat as he realized the alpha's intent. It meant to challenge him directly. To end this battle in single combat.

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Part of him quailed at the thought of facing such a monstrous opponent. The alpha was easily twice the size of his Grey Fur Beast, a mountain of muscle and fury and fang. Its claws could disembowel them both with a single swipe. Its jaws could crush their skulls like overripe fruit.

But a larger part of Gribble thrilled at the opportunity. This was his chance to prove himself once and for all. To show the world that he was the true apex predator. That no mere beast, no matter how mighty, could stand against the Dark King and his faithful mount.

Gribble straightened in his saddle, yellow eyes blazing with unholy light. He urged the Grey Fur Beast forward, silently daring the alpha to come at them. Let the world see how a true master of death did battle.

The werewolf needed no further invitation. It launched itself forward in a blur of silver fur and rippling muscle. The ground shook with each impact of its massive paws, sending tremors through the blood-soaked earth.

In the blink of an eye, it cleared the distance between them. The alpha's maw gaped wide, fangs gleaming in the moonlight as it lunged for Gribble's throat. Fetid breath washed over the goblin, hot and rank with the stench of fresh kill.

Gribble held his ground until the very last instant. He could see down the werewolf's gullet, count every yellowed fang. Feel the heat radiating from its monstrous form.

Then, just as those terrible jaws were about to close around him, Gribble spurred the Grey Fur Beast into action. The creature leapt sideways with preternatural speed, carrying its master out of harm's way.

The alpha's teeth snapped shut on empty air. It stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden evasion. A growl of confusion rumbled in its chest as it whirled about, searching.

Gribble wheeled his mount around, a feral grin splitting his features. Let the beast see what true power looked like. No matter how strong or fast it might be, it could never match the Dark King's mastery of death itself.

The alpha's eyes narrowed as they found their prey once more. A low growl rumbled in its chest - equal parts frustration and anticipation. It recognized now that this would be no simple mauling. The hunt was on.

It stalked forward, muscles coiled to spring. Each step was measured, calculated. This was no mindless beast, but a canny predator. It would not be fooled so easily again.

Gribble stood his ground this time, gathering dark energy between his palms. Shadows coalesced into a writhing sphere, pulsing with eldritch power. The very air around him seemed to warp and twist, as if reality itself recoiled from such unnatural forces.

Time seemed to slow as predator and prey sized each other up. The sounds of battle faded to a dull roar, all of Gribble's focus narrowing to this singular confrontation. Winner take all.

With a snarl that shook the earth, the alpha lunged. It crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, claws extended and jaws agape. A killing machine honed by eons of evolution, now pushed to the absolute peak of its capabilities by some primal magic.

But Gribble was ready. As the alpha sailed through the air, he thrust out his hands and unleashed the pent-up energy. A torrent of darkness erupted from his palms, catching the werewolf mid-leap.

The blast struck with the force of a battering ram, sending the alpha tumbling backward. It crashed to the ground with an impact Gribble felt through his mount's flanks, skidding through the blood-soaked mud.

For a moment, all was still. Had it been enough? Had he felled the mighty beast in a single blow?

But even as the thought formed, the alpha stirred. It shook its massive head as if to clear it, then slowly rose to its feet. Smoke curled from its silvery fur where the dark energy had scored it, but the wounds were already closing.

The beast fixed Gribble with a baleful glare, lips peeling back from yellowed fangs. Any pretense of restraint or calculation had vanished. Now there was only fury.

It charged again, a juggernaut of muscle and bone and rage. Gribble had only an instant to react. He dug his heels into the Grey Fur Beast's sides, spurring it into motion.

But they were too slow.

Massive jaws clamped down on the Grey Fur Beast's haunch, teeth sinking deep. The creature let out an unearthly howl of pain, nearly throwing Gribble from the saddle. The world spun wildly as the alpha shook them like a rag doll, Gribble's legs flailing uselessly as he clung to his mount.

Then they were airborne, flung aside with casual strength. The world spun in a dizzying blur as Gribble clung desperately to the Grey Fur Beast's fur. Wind whistled past his pointed ears, drowning out the sounds of battle below.

They hit the ground hard, all the breath driven from Gribble's lungs in a pained whoosh. The impact jarred every bone in his body, teeth clacking together painfully. His vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges.

They skidded across the blood-soaked earth, mud and gore splattering their forms. Gribble's fingers dug deeper into his mount's fur, knuckles white with the effort of holding on. The Grey Fur Beast's claws scrabbled for purchase, leaving deep furrows in the soft ground.

They tumbled down the slope, end over end. Each revolution brought fresh impacts, fresh pain. Gribble's shoulder slammed into a jutting rock, sending white-hot agony lancing through his arm. The Grey Fur Beast's flank collided with the twisted trunk of a dead tree, eliciting a yelp of pain from the creature.

Jagged stones tore at their flesh, leaving a trail of goblin blood and darker beast ichor in their wake. Gribble's head struck the ground, stars exploding behind his eyes. He tasted copper in his mouth, realizing dimly that he'd bitten his tongue.

The Grey Fur Beast's legs tangled with its rider's, their forms becoming a chaotic jumble of limbs and fur and leather. Gribble felt something snap in his chest - a rib giving way under the relentless battering.

Each impact sent fresh waves of agony through both rider and beast. Gribble's world narrowed to a haze of pain and disorientation. Up became down, sky and earth blurring together in a nauseating swirl.

The Grey Fur Beast howled, a sound of pure anguish that cut through even Gribble's addled state. He felt warm wetness against his leg and realized his mount was bleeding freely from multiple wounds.

Just when it seemed the terrible descent would never end, they slammed to a halt at the base of the hill. Gribble lay there, stunned and gasping, every inch of his body screaming in protest. The Grey Fur Beast's chest heaved beneath him, its breaths coming in ragged pants.

The world continued to spin even though they had stopped moving. Gribble fought against the encroaching darkness at the edges of his vision, knowing that to lose consciousness now would mean certain death.

They came to rest at the bottom, every inch of them screaming in protest. Blood poured from the ragged wound in the Grey Fur Beast's haunch, staining the earth beneath them a deeper crimson. The world swam before Gribble's eyes as he fought to remain conscious.

Through the haze of pain, he saw the alpha approach. It moved with slow, deliberate steps now. Savoring its victory. Crimson droplets fell from its muzzle - the Grey Fur Beast's blood, Gribble realized with a chill.

The goblin tried to summon his power, to fight back. To blink away, to blast the beast with shadow, to raise an army of undead to his defense. But his strength had deserted him. The pain was too great, his concentration shattered. He could only watch as death padded ever closer on four massive paws.

Was this how it ended? All his grand ambitions, his dreams of conquest... reduced to nothing in the face of this primal force of nature? To die here, broken and bleeding on a muddy hillside?