As moments passed swiftly, Ethan called upon the mages who could control fire. They gathered quietly connected by the common thread of fiery magic that gleamed in their eyes like dancing flames.

Gesturing for them to gather closer, he uttered, "The fireball,” his voice carrying confidence, "is a potent spell, but its consumption of mana can be daunting." His gaze swept over each mage, connecting with their intent expressions. "I have found a method that can amplify your power while conserving your energy."

Their eyes widened with intrigue and anticipation as his audience leaned in, collectively holding their breath in attention. He revealed the secret of the magic circle—a design capable of channeling energies with precision and finesse.

He walked them through the intricate concept, much like he had done while sharing the details with his father. Replicating the same process he explained, allowing them to tap into heightened potency while conserving their precious mana reserves.

Although he wanted to try checking other spells as well, time was the elusive thread that wove through their plans, making it impossible to look into the other elements. Ethan's focus remained unwavering, his gaze and guidance affixed to the path of the fire mages.

As he finished explaining the spell, their confidence steadily swelled, and their mastery of the enhanced spell began to show its promise. However, the imminent raid demanded careful mana preservation. With a shared understanding, they reached a consensus to save their newfound skills for the upcoming battle, refraining from practice to conserve their limited mana reserves.

With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he halted them before they dispersed to their respective positions and shared a few crucial details, his words carrying the weight of his plan. Then he handed them the glass bottles containing the prepared concoction.

"Thank you, young master," echoed the group in unison. Each mage nodded in agreement, their commitment to the task evident in their focused expressions. With confidence radiating from their demeanor, they departed for their allocated positions.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows that danced like specters, a palpable urgency infused the village. The villagers' footsteps echoed with purpose as they ventured out on patrols. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, tense and vigilant, searching for any signs of impending danger. The rear end of the village, where the dense jungle loomed, became the focal point of their watch. Beyond that expanse lay the orc village, a distant yet looming threat.

At the main entrance, only a few individuals were stationed, for it marked the beginning of the new village area, devoid of any paths that goblins could exploit. Their expressions flickered with a mix of panic and resolve, each step marked by an awareness of the potential threat. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, charged with the collective apprehension of the impending night.

Amidst this atmosphere of caution, one figure stood out—the village's lone adept mage. A recent breakthrough had granted them newfound confidence and a flicker of hope in the encroaching darkness.

In the past, the Orc village had remained untouched by attackers, an unbreakable realm safeguarded by the imposing presence of the Orc King. His dominance over the village sent shivers down the spine of anyone who entertained the notion of launching an assault. This guardian, a colossal boss monster, exuded an aura of dread that sufficed to quell any would-be invaders.

Likewise, the goblins had never ventured into human villages; as there was no shortage of animals or wilderness for them to thrive upon, these creatures had little interest in stepping beyond the boundaries of their own domain.

Nonetheless, a shift had emerged in the prevailing pattern. The goblins, driven by a hunger that transcended their usual restraint, now faced a scarcity of the wild creatures that had once sustained them. With the imminent rainy season casting shadows, they found themselves compelled to seek nourishment elsewhere. The human village with its resources beckoned as a target for its provisions.

Despite the villages of humans and goblins being proximate to the shoreline, the goblins remained clueless about the art of fishing. The vastness of the sea, vast and enigmatic, evoked feelings of unease among these creatures who knew not its depths. The water's mysteries were punctuated by their hesitance, a stark contrast to their usually audacious nature.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden hue across the land, the distant horizon seemed to come alive with an eerie sound. From far away, carried by the gentle breeze, the shrill screeches of goblins cut through the air. Each cry reverberated, sending shivers down the spines of those who listened, a haunting reminder of the impending threat.

Skrieeekkkkkk

Screeechhhhh

As the cries drew closer, their menacing rhythm resonating through the air, a sense of urgency enveloped the gathered villagers. In unison, they assumed their positions in a coordinated ballet of readiness.

Grips tightened on weapons, fingers knotted around the hilt and handle, while mages focused their energy on the sparks of magic flickering in their palms. Nervous anticipation mingled with determination.

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The careful arrangement unveiled a secondary line of defense near the rear gate of the village fashioned from haphazard wooden planks which created a makeshift wall. Taking the lead were the novice battlemages, versatile in both close combat with weapons and the fusion of magic. At the outset of their battlemage journey, their rigorous training within the kingdom's military had seasoned their craft, earning them a place as the vanguard.

Behind this barrier of makeshift branches and structures, another tier of defense emerged, comprising villagers who possessed basic elemental skills and two battlemage archers from the divisional office. These villagers lacked extensive combat training but grasped elementary spells. Their path in magic was limited by their innate abilities, yet they mustered the courage to stand as a bulwark against direct monster attacks.

Safeguarded by this second line of defense, Ethan and his friends stood ready, clutching the glass bottles that would offer support when the time arose.

Ethan caught sight of his father's timely arrival, sword firmly gripped in hand. Having patrolled other areas, they had hurried to this spot upon hearing the distant cries of the approaching horde. Gareth trailed behind wielding his substantial iron shield, the two of them advancing cautiously. Gareth, a formidable tank, stood alongside Aldric, the latter honing his expertise in close combat like a potent damage dealer. Spotting Ethan among the gathering, Aldric spoke breathlessly, "Reached just in time."

As his gaze shifted toward the source of the eerie noises and swirling dust, Aldric observed the unusual glass bottles in the children's hands. Frowning slightly, he directed his inquiry at them. "Didn't I instruct all of you to remain within the safety of your homes? This situation is dangerous."

Glancing at his mother, Ethan found her gaze upon him, reflecting both concern and approval. With a reassuring smile at her, he addressed his father, saying, "We've prepared something to assist during the raid. We couldn't bear to stand by idly."

Realizing the timing wasn't favorable to argue with his kid, Aldric relented, his words carrying a sense of urgency, "Make sure you watch over your friends." With haste, he departed for the gate to assume his designated position.

As the distant echoes of battle cries drew closer, a whirlwind of dust enveloped the approaching horde. The rhythmic thumping of the ground resonated with each massive footfall of the humongous Orcs behind the massive lineup. With every step, the ground trembled beneath the weight of their relentless advance, sending tremors of anticipation through the air.

The Goblins at the forefront emerged into view, a discordant assembly clad in shades of green. Their large ears twitched in rhythm to an unseen melody, and their prominent front teeth gleamed yellow in the fading light. Wooden Kanabos were wielded with an odd grace as they danced closer, an eerie spectacle that contrasted starkly with the impending chaos.

Amid the countless Goblins, a quartet stood out, garbed in brown sack-like attire. A peculiar accessory adorned each one—a spinal backbone secured with a glowing stone. From a distance, the stones resembled potent mana sources. These were the enigmatic Goblin Shamans, possessing limited mana but a unique mastery of a single spell. Among the Goblins, becoming a Shaman was an arduous feat, and these elders stood as revered guardians of their mystical heritage.

Walking alongside the Shamans were the hulking Orcs, their imposing forms providing a protective shield around the spellcasters. A vigilant defense was imperative, for the Shamans held the key to the Goblins' magical onslaught. Yet, amidst the Orcs, an even more formidable figure loomed. Towering over them by an additional five feet, he commanded attention as the leader of the horde. Twin Kanabos, massive and crafted from bone rested in his grip symbolizing his authority and power. He was an Orc King.

"They're here! Take your positions!" Aldric's voice pierced the air sharply and with urgency. An atmosphere of tense anticipation engulfed the group as they scrambled to their designated spots, hands gripping weapons and expressions etched with a mixture of fear and determination.

However, a collective gasp swept through the defenders as their attention shifted to the towering figure that loomed behind the approaching horde. A menacing grin stretched across its grotesque face, saliva dripping from its oversized teeth.

Aldric sensed the wave of terror that rippled through the ranks and refused to let it take hold. "Don't falter now!" he bellowed, his voice laced with desperation. "Think about your families, your homes! If we yield today, everyone we love will perish!" His words, like a rallying cry, aimed to steel their resolve, reigniting their determination to stand their ground.

In the midst of the escalating tension, a single voice pierced through the air: Ethan's. "Everyone, do as I've instructed!" he shouted. His words reverberated with urgency, a call to action that resounded like a beacon in the turmoil. Amidst the anxiety, his friends and their small group promptly took their cue. Glass containers were held tightly in their grasp, each hand gripping with determination. Pressure surged as they vigorously shook the containers.

It was a surprise they had meticulously planned, a small yet crucial contribution to the impending battle. Amidst the looming danger, the children's steadfastness stood out. Though shaken by the towering threat before them, they clung to their duty. Each held their glass bottle, generating pressure before passing it on.

"Hahaha, these kids are outshining us old fogies," chuckled one of the village elders. "What's the hesitation, everyone?" he rallied, his contagious spirit spreading. He leaned on his wooden staff for support and started chanting an incantation to prepare for the spell. Laughter intertwined with determination echoed as the villagers readied themselves for the impending battle.

As they drew closer to the front gate, a swarm of goblins surged forward. These foot soldiers of the horde charged with relentless screeches and shrieks, their tiny green forms wielding Kanabos in their hands. A frenzied determination radiated from them as they sprinted towards the entrance, eager to initiate the assault.

Aldric's voice boomed "Get ready, here they come", rallying the force. As his command reverberated through the tense air, the children stationed behind him sprung into action. They swiftly passed out the meticulously prepared glass containers. In response to Aldric's signal, the first wave of containers was hurled toward the oncoming goblins.

Bang

As the glass container, filled with its fermented concoction met the ground with a force akin to a miniature pressurized bomb, its glass casing shattered in a resounding boom. The deafening sound rippled across the battlefield, echoing through the air.

The chaotic explosion shattered the goblin formation scattering them into disarray. Panic swept through their ranks, their once-coordinated advance now devolving into a frenzy of confusion. Wide-eyed and startled, the goblins turned in all directions, searching for the source of the abrupt chaos that had shattered their assault.