From the opposing camp, morale was at its peak. The bulk of the troops belonging to the Ra clan were eager for battle, a certain frenzy, a lust for combat, almost as if they were intoxicated and thirsty for it.

"No, it's the curse," Alex told himself.

He could see it in their eyes—the curse was slowly gathering, and they had been suppressing it for a long time, controlling themselves with an iron fist, which made any momentary lapse explode into magnified chaos.

Although there was nothing indicating it, Alex already knew there would be a massacre, and he was responsible.

The troops were in position.

The weapons were in optimal condition.

The ladders were ready.

The mobile anti-archer defenses were in place.

Everything was set.

From the rear, Atarra began conjuring her power and making gestures in the air with her staff.

"Zathrok Tharnos!" she roared in a guttural voice, and a thin film of semi-transparent energy materialized over the heads of the Gnolls.

"Charge!" Alex finally shouted.

With a thunderous cry in response from the troops, the advance began.

The moment the first troops entered the maximum range of the Goblin archers, they started shooting instantly, resulting in poor effectiveness as many didn't reach the maximum range. Nevertheless, they continued firing volley after volley.

From the perspective of the Gnoll troops, the visual of a literal rain of arrows falling upon them was a terrifying sight. Many trembled but still marched forward with their shields over their heads. They had a sacred duty to their matriarch, who had also blessed them with a protective spell. While it couldn't stop the arrows outright, it decreased their force by almost a third, preventing them from causing deep wounds to the shields and minimizing injuries.

Alex, on the other hand, was paralyzed in place.

It was quite strange, as he had fought on battlefields many times, almost always with his life on the line. He didn't exactly know what was keeping him paralyzed, what was instilling so much fear that it wouldn't let him fulfill his duty.

Could it be the absence of his heavy armor?

From the beginning, his armor had been almost like a second skin, so much so that he considered it part of himself, an inseparable part of his being. Wearing heavy armor was almost like a second nature to him. No, Alex had reconciled with the fact that he wouldn't have his great sword and his armor for quite some time. Although it still caused him problems in certain aspects of the fight, they weren't as crippling as what he felt now.

Along the same line, it couldn't be the absence of his ashes' energy. Although the forest's energy wasn't at the exact level of the first, it still allowed him to fight effectively in many conditions.

"Those who have to die will die," Atarra suddenly told him.

"What do you mean?" nervously asked a confused Alex, taken aback by the stern look from the matriarch.

"They have entered the battlefield to fulfill their objective and take the lives of those who stand in their way. Therefore, all who entered know that their own lives are also up for grabs. The weight of their actions rests on them, not on you," the matriarch concluded, renewing the spell one last time before the troops reached the walls.

Alex remained stunned in place, reflecting on those words.

That's right; what weighed on him was death before his eyes.

Although they were few due to the great advantage they had, there were already a handful of dead Gnolls, and many others were injured, and the battle had just begun.

He had always fought, his life on the line. Now, for the first time, he commanded soldiers to fight in his place and to die.

Alex clenched his fists and closed his eyes. However, a voice from the depths of his being urged him to quickly confront his current situation.

His father's voice reminded him of a conversation they had in a similar situation in Alex's life, where he had hesitated and let go of a great opportunity.

"At the crossroads of battle, when responsibility weighs like a mountain, remember: 'It is not that we have a short time, but that we waste much.' Inspire your troops with the urgency of victory, for time is the most fleeting ally in the eternal dance between life and death."

His father had adapted Seneca's words for him, where on the battlefield, he had made incessant decisions to keep his team alive.

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With the comforting sound of his father's voice, Alex opened his eyes with a newfound resolution.

He quickly surveyed the walls and found a skilled Goblin archer. In just a short 30 seconds, Alex saw how he wounded at least four Gnolls. Considering the other Goblins, this one had quite high efficiency.

Alex mobilized, approaching within the maximum range of the Goblins. What they didn't know was that Alex had superior strength and a better bow, so his comfortable attack distance was equal to the maximum distance of his enemies. Alongside Alex was a squad of Gnolls acting as his bodyguards, as well as a younger Gnoll acting as his arrow carrier, carrying more arrows for him.

Alex aimed at the relevant Goblin, holding his breath to give a small boost to his stability, and when he was sure, he released the bowstring and his breath.

The arrow cut through the skies, tracing a perfect line through the chaos of battle. Time seemed to slow down as the arrow approached its target with lethal precision.

With a precise impact, the Goblin archer fell, interrupting his rain of deadly arrows. The brief silence that followed was overshadowed by the continuous roar of battle, but for Alex, it was a momentary triumph that restored a sense of control.

That was Alex's first kill, but soon the second and then the third followed.

Finally, Alex had eliminated so many veteran Goblins that it had significantly affected the weak morale of the defenders.

As he observed the result of his actions, his father's voice resonated in his mind as an encouraging echo. "In the eternal dance between life and death, every decision counts. It is not that we have little time, but that we waste much. Inspire your troops with the urgency of victory."

Empowered by this truth, Alex turned towards his troops, raised his sword high, and shouted, "For survival, and for our Prisoner brethren! Forward, to the walls!"

Renewed energy seized the Gnoll troops, responding with a unified roar of determination. They advanced with renewed vigor, overcoming difficulties and facing the arrow rain with courage. Matriarch Atarra, from the rear, continued reinforcing the magical shield, providing her warriors with the necessary protection to face the enemy onslaught.

Finally, the Gnolls reached the walls, raising the ladders and preparing to start fighting. They had survived gruesome minutes of arrow showers without being able to respond effectively; now, they would face their swords.

The fight on the walls was chaotic, so Alex didn't dare to simply climb up instantly and waited for his troops to clear a section before ascending himself.

From the wall, he could see the interior situation.

The Goblins offered little resistance at this point. The lack of conviction to fight was evident as they constantly retreated, giving ground to the advancing Gnolls, inch by inch.

Just when Alex thought the situation wouldn't change further, and the rest of his troops could easily eliminate the remaining Goblins, an explosion occurred in a sector.

Great flames rose on the battlefield, burning nearly 50 Gnolls.

Chaos seized the battlefield, and even without knowing what was happening, another explosion detonated, engulfing even more of the battlefield in flames.

This time, however, Alex could see something.

From a corner of the defender's camp where they grouped, there was an archer. He had been shooting incendiary arrows at fuel containers placed in the field, which they hadn't noticed at first.

Just as he was about to ignite his third arrow, Alex was faster in preparing his own and firing it.

The Goblin fell wounded with an arrow in his shoulder and quickly called another to replace him in his task.

This brief pause gave Alex enough time to shout his orders and move his troops away from the fiery trap.

Alex's intervention had saved his troops, as they later discovered that the Goblin chief had arranged enough flammable containers to burn almost half of the settlement. However, with Alex taking down every archer attempting to ignite the nearby containers, they managed to avoid most of the problem and even use a few against the enemy.

"What do we do now, sir?" asked some Gnolls, addressing Alex.

"I don't know. It's quite difficult to reach the remaining distance to our enemies. In the worst case, we can activate the remaining barrels ourselves and wait for the fire to extinguish. Atarra, do you know any spell that can help?" Alex replied, although he had offered a plan, he was quite reluctant to take this step, as doing so would give the enemy too much time to prepare something else and cause unnecessary havoc in the settlement that was about to be his.

"Unfortunately, no. And even if I did, I think it's better that I save the rest of my power. I detect the presence of a Goblin shaman," Atarra replied.

"What about our troops? Have they found another way?" Alex asked several troops acting as vanguard.

"No, sir," various troops responded in turn.

"Well, if there's no way, we'll have to force our way. Prepare some firebreaks, and then light the remaining barrels towards the enemy's path," Alex ordered.

"Yes, sir," nodded the various officers.

The Gnolls quickly got to work to create the minimal firebreaks needed so that the rest of the flames didn't destroy more than necessary.

Meanwhile, on the Goblin side, instead of using the remaining time to prepare better defenses, they were stuck in useless discussions.

Many Goblins had complaints and reproaches for their Goblin chief, which he could barely respond to with such low eloquence. Above all, there was great incredulity in his eyes; he didn't understand why, at a moment like this, when the enemies were working hard to kill them all, they turned against him.

The discussions continued heating up until the unthinkable finally happened.

One of the less important or strong Goblins climbed onto the table and demanded that the chief take responsibility for the failure with his life.

What in the world had led to such an outcome was something that surpassed the chief's cognition. What he did know was that someone had challenged his command, and there was only one way to resolve such matters in Goblin societies: with the death of the individual.

After executing the insignificant troublemaker, the chief thought something would be solved, but far from it—it escalated even more, and soon, civil war broke out.

Both sides began killing each other in the leader's tent, and the massacre quickly spread to the remaining troops.

At one point in the battle, the chief decided to use his last card to regain control of the situation.

"Shaman, cast the spell you had prepared to help my troops dispatch these rebels," ordered the chief while killing Goblins left and right.

However, this request was met with the shaman's silence.

When the chief looked back to the position where he should be, he noticed that there was no one.

For quite some time now, there had been no one there.

"This bastard betrayed me!" the chief exclaimed furiously.

However, he had no time to do anything more since he was surrounded by rebel troops, and the fierce fight continued.

A few moments later, the Gnolls finally had a clear path to advance as the flames had subsided.

Although Alex expected a fierce final battle, what he found was Goblins fighting fiercely among themselves.

There was nothing more to be done here; he simply gave the order to advance and left the rest to Atarra and her troops.