Without warning the enemy stops and doesn’t go a single step forward. Silence settles on our lines as time comes. Time to test our metal against the first real tribulation the system would be sending our way. Our commander takes a spyglass and goes over the lines of the enemy.

I try to identify one of the wolves, but I’m too far away. The skill predictably fails. Frustrated I curse and strain every little bit of my perception trying to make out anything new about the enemy.

The wolves are bigger than most men. They must weigh at least 200 pounds. A few of the bigger ones are probably around 300 pounds. The humanoids behind them are almost as tall as an average human and have disproportionately long arms. I try to see one with different characteristics. There are a couple slightly taller, but none strikes me as the leader.

In a strange phenomenon waves of fear and anticipation roll through the lines. With 700 feet of the wall, the 500 people above don’t crowd the line but it’s an impressive display none the less.

After some study, I conclude the enemy leader is looking over the battlefield to figure out the best approach. I wonder how smart he and the others are. How much experience and prior knowledge they have. Were they created for this challenge or have been offered an opportunity by the system, if they defeat us.

Questions fill my head, but I do my best to not be distracted. I see two groups of five each one only having a staff. They are probably the people Richard talked about. They will try to use magic when the enemy gets to the foot of the wall. I should have practiced to increase my output and be able to make a big ball of fire.

Thousands of mana every day may have helped me to trains a few things. But I didn’t focus on combat magic at all. The most I have done is to throw a small fireball the size of a grape. Spending 10 points of mana a couple of times doesn’t qualify as real training.

With an ease born of years of practice, I settle my nerves. The energy everyone is emitting is starting to affect me. I usually fare very well in not letting other people affect me, but today it seems it is not my day. Even the lone wolf runs for the hills when the forest catches fire.

I see all the wolves preparing to move. The humanoids behind them have the discipline to not give anything away, but the wolves only joined them a day or two ago. With a cry, I see every single one of them charging. They all start almost at the same time. The humanoids behind them move out as well and I see what they are.

Goblins, bloody goblins. The system seems intent on delivering clichés any chance it gets.

The wolves charge a few meters ahead. I would guess 100 wolves. The mainline is about 150 goblins. Every single one of them equipped with a spear and leather armor. Behind I see ten archers, along with a taller goblin. He could also a hobgoblin. He is probably the chief.

I also see the smallest of goblins hidden behind the chief. He wields a staff. It is not the kind of staff we use for a lack of funds to buy better gear. It looks like a magical staff. Dark wood, with a crystal in one end. He could be a magic user, perhaps a shaman?

The chief stays back with a few goblins behind as all the front line charges at an incredible pace. It only takes seconds for them to reach the first of the spike lines. A dozen wolves hurt themselves as the spiked contraptions roll on the ground and stab who is behind them. The goblins behind slow and take more care as they move forward. Not one of the enemies is injured enough they need to stop.

As they hit the second line I hear the twangs. Looking to my side, the ballistae have just fired and people are trying to reload them. With the corner of my eye, I see the bolt hitting near the chief. After a moment I playback the scene in my mind and I notice one of the bolts almost hitting him, but been deflected by something. I stare intently in the direction of the goblin I assume is the shaman.

I see tendrils of mana slowly retracting, to stand near him. The chief stop his advance and lets the main force charge ahead. Seeing this, the people on the ballista aim at the closer goblins and shoot again. Seven bolts hit with enormous strength on these smaller creatures.

The bolts weight around 500 grams. The draw weight of the ballista is at around 1000 pounds. This all meant it speared through anything it hit without issue. Two of the bolts don’t hit anything but I also see two wolves speared by another bolt. In a blink, six enemies are nearly out of commission. Three of them would probably not make it, and the other would be delayed at least a minute or two.

I stare at the process they are using to reload the bolts. One person attaches a hook to the string, four people pull a rope in a single heave and the arrow is placed. The rope is detached and the line is cleared to fire. All that takes about 2 seconds. We need six people per ballista, but given the effectiveness, I would not say they were wasted. The whole thing was surreal; it almost looked like a change of tires I a formula one pit stop.

I also see a few people shot fire arrows. They hit places all over the fourth frontline and slowly the fire starts to spread. Looking closely I see signs of the infused wood being used. There is normal wood as well, but the infused wood is better in every sense. It will catch fire faster and they won't be able to put it out. Too bad we don’t have an accelerant. With gasoline or something similar, we could do some amazing things.

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Two volleys later, the enemies hit the walls. In frenzy, they climb over each other to reach the top of the walls. They don’t care about who is left behind, their only goal is to get to us. It’s almost suicidal, but the dangerous kind of suicidal, the kind it has enough reason behind to find a way to hurt you the most.

I quickly inspect a couple of them, the wolves are level 8 to 10 and the goblins are a uniform level 18. That is going to be a hard fight. If their organization is any indication they are probably much more experienced than us in this type of fight.

I notice the shaman and the chief slowly advance. With us now distracted trying to stop these goblins from swarming us we can’t spare pay much attention to them. The crews of the ballistae in their protected perches, however, do pay attention to this and start shooting. The shots are more carefully aimed at this time and four of them are deflected by some kind of shield.

The chief starts to zigzag trying to make himself harder to hit. The shaman behind him is not so agile and the commander notices that. He yells at the closest ballista team and work goes through the lines repeated by the sub-commanders.

“Shoot the magic-user wielding a staff.”

And shoot at the shaman they do. Even the teams nearest the end of the wall manage a hit or two. In the third volley, five bolts hit at the same time and the gobbling is thrown backward.

Only 50 yards from our walls, they stop and the shaman starts to do something. Our initial success is rebuffed as he effortlessly erects a thick wall of earth. A shelter big enough for a dozen goblins is created.

It may seem effortless, this probably used a good amount of his mana. Ten of the original twelve archers settle behind the earth wall. The chief also retreats a few meters to stand behind it.

At the walls, the goblins are getting better at reacting to our defense. Few of them are crushed by rocks anymore and they deftly dodge the thrusts of our weapons. They are not so suicidal after all. I move in a couple of times to give a good whack in the head of one of the goblins if any get too close to leaping over the wall.

Since the assault in the walls begun, about 20 wolves and 30 goblins have been taken out of the fight. Accounting for they lost to the ballista, we have 180 to 190 enemies left. I hear someone crying and clutching at their shoulder. Damn archers. Now they are shooting arrows at us.

I pay close attention to their movements and see one of them quickly stand up, shoot, and disappear behind the protective barrier. I hear a cry and see another injured person. At this rhythm, we will lose too many people. If they any more surprises, we are screwed.

I hear the commander trying to fortify the battle lines.

“Keep fighting. These arrows won’t kill you; the goblins in your face are the real danger.”

I hear him twisting the truth, but this is not the time to be prickly. The best chance any of us has is if everyone keeps fighting and ignore the arrows. If everyone is ducking constantly, the goblins at the walls will be able to swarm the platform.

Pairs of people come and carry the injured down the stairs at a record pace. They each grab one of the arms of the injured and move as fast as they can. The efforts in taking care of injuries seem to be well organized.

I heard we had 5 nurses and 3 doctors in the village. With people like that in charge, we could probably save quite a few people even if the injuries were bad. The system may have allowed us to be more liberal with our safety, but if you bleed out too quickly, no amount of HP regen would save you.

I see new people coming up the stairs to replace the injured ones. I hope someone would be able to unlock a healer profession soon, or at least a skill. So far none of my runes had anything to do with the ways of healing. Merlin had improved the healing salve at the cost of a more complex process. Now we had an improved salve that would heal about 35% faster, but no actual healing magic.

I feel dread deep in my bones and as I sense the shaman pouring to the mana. This ability to sense mana is very useful. It’s something I should try always paying attention to.

As my mana manipulation increased the range and precision seemed to increase. For such a huge amount of mana being poured out it would be hard to miss. He is pouring out mana at a high pace.

After a moment of thought, I start to pour out mana at my maximum rate. I don’t give shape just yet, just focus on pouring it out as fast as possible.

The commander also has high enough mana manipulation to notice it. “Magic attack, group one defend.”

I feel one of the teams besides me start to pour their mana out. Four people dump their mana pool as fast as possible and the person in the middle directs it.

I let the physical world leave my notice. All that exists in my perception is the mana. I feel the slight shifts and try to guess at the purpose of the enemy mana. I start to give a rough shape to mine mana. A rough sphere comes into existence from an amorphous blob. The slightly bluish glow in my mind’s eye is prevalent. I concentrate on sending as much mana as I can to the slowly forming sphere.

The enemy’s purpose is now obvious. I see the mana becoming fire and accumulating quickly.

The hardest part over, my mana effortlessly shifts in a rune of water. The rune needs a few things beside it to be useful. I send now a thinner stream of mana to draw a few runes on the outside. The guidance of the system now seems to almost bend to my will and I know what I need to do.

Lines quickly form in a circle around the bigger central water rune. The tens of thousands of mana I spend honing my craft come to my aid. Familiarity, that only comes from experience is enhanced by the will of the world and this jury-rigged thing comes together.

From the enemy I sense the fireball accelerating to a target a few meters to my side. My feet move before my mind. I hold a sphere of water the size of a basketball. I keep control of it and slowly increase the distance from my hand. I try to make it as solid as possible. My mana bottoming out, but I ignore the tug.

With one of my feet firmly planted on the wall top, I jump ahead with all my strength. The water from my side also starts to accelerate aimed in a direct collision course with the fire from the goblin.

I fly with both of my arms extended. The fireball passes me in the left and hits my water sphere. A moment later the other mana source I sensed to my left collides with the goblins projectile and five meters before the wall and the whole thing explodes. Steam burns me and I guess the closest people, back in the walls.

The world is real again and I see the predicament I’m in. I can’t fly, and that means, I’m in deep shit.