I could barely get any sleep. Without Jorr to guide tactics, and Nojus to offer experienced viewpoints, it all falls on my shoulders and now, I feel just how difficult it is. The hours went by as I sat outside my tent trying to come up with the best strategy to keep my men alive. Maintaining a facade of security among them, when in truth, I don't know if I can prevent their deads.

The thought of using the trance came to mind, but what if I needed it? What if trying to better understand Jorr's tactical mind was of no use? I can plan out battles where I put myself at risk. I can do that just fine.

But keeping people alive?

Regardless, I would be of no good if I remained up all night, so when I could take it no more, I forced myself to sleep. Soon after the sun came up and with it, we began our march.

The obelisk was built deep within a narrow valley, one of the Endless Green trees had spread its roots within, creating the perfect spot with its gargantuan size for a flock of harpies to make their home. Surrounded by impassable mountains from all sides, there was only one way in, and one way out.

Thorum and I stayed at the front, with Lina next to me. My men surround the witches who ride atop a couple of wargs, with Indri among them, I figured telling her a half-truth would be better than babysitting her. So I told her if she used the vial, that the witches might try to kidnap her in the spot for her value.

She wasn't happy but seemed to believe me. And in formation, we would run to the obelisk, providing a safe space for the witches to attack, and protecting Thorum while he fixed the structure. A simple plan, but with a lack of better terrain, or opportunity, this was the best we could do.

The sky was orange only for the briefest of moments, we are in the middle of winter after all, and blizzards are more numerous and strong at this point. Clouds soon swallowed everything in the heavens, bringing heavier snow, and faster winds. Soon, the snow falls like a downpour, and the winds threaten to throw us down from the mountains. It's freezing touch, torture to any exposed skin.

Suddenly, Thorum raises his hand and kneels, taking off his back and looking through it while the group readies their weapons.

"What did you see? Where are they?" I ask, unsheathing my sword.

"One of them flew by over there," He says pointing at a peak far in the distance "And with this blizzard, I want to have my sling ready just in case"

He takes out a leather bag that he quickly ties on his belt, then, a bronze glove of some kind that he puts on his left hand. The runes on it glimmer in a dim orange. Followed by the simple leather strap used to throw rocks.

"S-Seriously? A damn sling?!" Indri shouts, shivering with cold.

"Don't underestimate the power of a rock thrown by my hands" Thorum smiles, or so I think, his beard getting in the way "Besides, this does not throw just any rock, you will see"

"If Thorum saw one, then they could easily see us, prepare yourselves!" I shout back at my men, who ready their crossbows, bolts just a pull of the trigger from being shot "How far are we?" I ask Anaid.

"We need to go around that," She says pointing at a nearby mountain, the stony trail clear even with all this snow "As soon as we turn around the peak, we will see the valley"

"Let's get there faster, move!"

After my order, every Warg gets on to a steady, any minute longer that we take to get into the valley is time that they could use to spot us. Soon, we are going up the trail, the unrelenting storm growing more furious. My keen ears try to catch any sound other than the whistling wind...until it does.

I raise my hand and the group comes to a halt. Right in front of us comes flying a harpy, and I finally get a clear picture of them, at least thrice the size of a common man.

A body covered in feathers, their feminine faces almost indistinguishable from humans, except for their larger eagle eyes. Her hair is a lengthy mess, braided in some places, with feathers in others. Her body is covered in rags and animal skin. Her legs are bare and full of feathers, pressed against her chest I can tell they are longer than that of a human, with hands for feet, resembling the skin of other flying creatures, but with black long claws.

The harpy snaps her head in our direction, and immediately every feather ruffles like a scared cat. My men shoot and a single pained scream escapes from her mouth before she is hit by a volley of bolts, hitting her selves with the hard surface of the trail before rolling down the cliff to her dead.

None one says anything, and no one moves. Or is it just me? I can hear the distant scream of other harpies, bringing me back to earth.

"CHARGE!" I shout at my men and the Wargs roar.

The heavy bodies of our beasts slam onto the stone with power and might as the charge picks up speed, their paws scrapping the very stone as their claws try to dig themselves onto the ground to gather more pull. And soon we reach the highest point on the trail, the valley in full view.

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A tree bigger than the mountains can be seen in the distance, its roots pouring into the valley with a thousand thorns meters in length each. Decayed and frozen corpses impaled on them in all positions. Some roots have been hollowed out, and I see a stream of harpies fly out from within, but what takes the view is the Obelisk.

A tall structure of black stone. It is broken apart and the pieces hover around a bronze rod in the middle of it. Blue electricity dance around them. But my eye soon leaves it, for they see it.

They see him.

"Dubby" I whisper.

Surrounded by his wargs, smaller than mine. Atop his horned devil, spear in hand. I swear, our eyes met even at this distance. He is right in front of the obelisk.

I don't want to kill you, I don't want you to fight you...but If I must. Then I will.

For my kingdom.

We charge down the now wider trail, it zig-zags on its way down to the valley making such a charge impossible to maintain with horses, but ours are Wargs, and they have no trouble coming to a sudden halt just to jump at the opposite side and continue with the same ferocity than before, always making sure Thorum is not left behind. The harpies seem to almost blot out the sky above us. An enraged murder of crows, they scream and fall like arrows onto us.

"Burn"

I hear behind me and glance back to see the witches raising their hands at the harpies. Blue flames burst and explode their hands, creating magic circles that begin to shoot spears, arrows, swords, and axes of the same fire, traveling up and following the harpies, most managing to stop their descent and fly away, their deadly pursuers close behind.

Those that can't, scream in pain or are swiftly silenced as the spells penetrate their bodies, soon after exploding and engulfing them in flames. Or outright cutting their heads.

One of them manages to get close enough, and after breathing in, throws the loudest, most painful wail I have ever heard. Bad enough it halts even the charge of the Wargs. My ears may look human but they are not, and the pain is bad enough that my complete body freezes in place. Soon the barrage of screams only grows in number as more and more of these cursed creatures get through the witches' relentless attack.

Then, one of my men is tackled out of his warg, and the deadly claws of its captor pierce the leather armor, even the mail beneath it with ease. But when the harpy tries to fly upwards, something smashes against her chest, tearing it to pieces with a loud bang.

"SHUT UP! you wailing whores!" Thorum yells enraged, raising his bronze glove a metallic black carved entirely in runes smashes against it. He places it on his sling and after a few spins, it's flying again.

Of course, his size gives him such power, that the metallic ball is akin to a catapult in strength, maybe even more! I can't even see the damn thing, but it smashes against several harpies, destroying everything it touches and quickly making its way back to his hand.

"Don't stop! Move forward!" I scream at my men, Thorum's terrifying display of might scare the harpies away, who seemingly begin to flee.

But as the group resumes the race, now finally in the valley, I hear from the obelisk several primal screams. Dubby raises his spear and by his voice alone the retreating harpies resume their attack. He points his spear at us, and his wargs roar as they charge toward us.

"The Shapeshifter! I can kill him!" Anaid shouts, raising both hands in front of her, summoning a large magic circle.

But Dubby will not sit idly, he is already charging atop his devil, faster than all other wargs, he quickly takes the lead. Is he planning to take Anaid's attack head-on?!

From the magic circle, at least twenty blades explode out and shoot themselves at him. They are about to impact, when he jumps out of his devil, spinning and striking with his spear at every single one of the blades. Thorum tries to join in, throwing his ball at him, and Dubby rolls on the ground, jumps, and with both hands on his spear manages to hit the ball, sending it crashing onto a distant root.

I can just stare at it in true amazement.

"What the fuck is that thing?!" Loretta shouts, standing on her warg behind Anaid, she wants to fight him.

"NO!" I shout, slashing the feet off a harpy who tried to catch me "Protect Thorum! I will deal with him!"

I lead the warg towards Dubby, Lina following behind me together with a couple of my men. The rest keeps pushing through the harpies and wargs, going straight to the obelisk. His devil changes its course, from the group to us, and as we reach him, he jumps atop it.

"I recognize you" What? This voice? It comes from the devil! "You carry the blood within you now, but it will do you no good. Your fate is sealed, GOBLIN!"

No, you are mistaken. And I will gladly prove it to you.

Dubby glances down at his mount, then straight at me. There is confusion for the briefest of moments on his face, but then it contorts into pure anger. He bares his teeth at me and utters a single word.

"Ushkur"

With it, he throws a blood-curdling war cry and charges at us, a few harpies and wargs joining him. I feel the bloodlust starting to take over, and I try to keep it controlled, but as soon as the beasts tackle me it's so hard, harder than ever before! To contain it! It's in every vein of my body, traversing every single hair from root to end.

A brawl commences. My warg jumps at its opposing kin, and I jump from him, the harpy I target screaming at me with such force I swear my ears burst, but it doesn't matter anymore. Everything I feel is the desire to kill them all. With a quick hand, I sever her head from her shoulders and fall to the ground on top of her bloodied corpse.

The warm blood drenches me completely, some of it falling to my mouth through my bare teeth, the sweet taste of iron invading my mouth. I move with speed and fury. Cutting my way through my enemies, I can barely see where I swing or who am I fighting! This sensation is like nothing else! I-

I barely dodge out of the way as the devil tries to impale me once more with his horns. Dubby jumps down from it, I can see Lina and my men fighting as well.

"MINE!" Dubby yells at his devil, and the creature roars as it jumps away, at my men.

He stands straight, and everything suddenly feels so much slower. I am no longer on a chaotic battlefield. It's like a bucket of cold water that brings me back to my senses...that grants me some control over myself. It is those eyes, that look that forces my body to halt its primordial rage...because I know that if I charge blindly at him.

I will die.

He spins his spear and adopts the stance. The same I taught him.

The snow of the blizzard falls all around us, and though the screaming harpies and shouting men still fight furiously...there is only us. Only us.