The monsters lunged at him one by one, seeking an opportune moment to strike while he was not looking, as the circle grew tighter and tighter.

Their swords rarely pierced his armor, and when they did, they only left a small cut in his flesh. Nogryl, being a good swordsman, often parried their blows and managed to retaliate,

wounding the beasts with his blade.

One of the ur'gluns dashed to slice open Nogry's briefly exposed neck with a crudely forged black iron falchion, but Nogryl quickly turned around and countered his blow before cutting the monster in half in a single swing.

Witnessing that, the soldiers stood up from the cover, and one of them screamed,

"Charge!“

The men quickly formed a wedge formation with their shields and charged at the ur'glun pack with their spears in front of them, as Sir Victor led the charge at the tip of the formation.

The ur'gluns outnumbered them two to one, and quickly diverting their attention from Nogryl, they made a counter charge. They rushed as a pack and clashed with the formation, ferociously lunging through the forest of spears and clashing against the shield wall.

Initial charge pushed back the ur'glun party, but the formation was quickly overwhelmed by the shear numbers and ferocity of the beasts as the chaotic fight ensued.

The sound of clashing steel echoed through the forest together with bestial growls of ur'gluns and the screams of the wounded men. Nogryl rushed to join the battle and spotted the ur'glun chief fighting among his pack.

The monster was slightly taller than other ur'gluns, almost reaching the height of an average man. He was clad in armor crudely forged from black iron with many spikes on his shoulderguards and many rough dents from hammer blows.

He had the skin of a black wolf on his back, and his weapon was a mace with many spikes and, in the other hand, an iron shield.

The beast saw Nogryl approaching and started walking towards him as two warriors looked each other straight in the eyes. The seconds turned into minutes as they walked through the raging battlefield.

The beast opened with a swing of his mace as soon as they approached each other, and Nogryl lifted his sword and parried. It was obvious that the human was much stronger than his opponent, but his wounds made the fight much harder, and the beast knew that.

The ur'glun took a step back and avoided the retaliating strike, and then quickly closed in the distance with another swing of his mace. Nogryl took a hit to his shoulder, and before he could restore his balance, the swing was followed by another swing to the chest.

Exhausted from bleeding, the hit of a mace knocked the breath out of his lungs, but his armor held. Yet many would fall from such wounds.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

„Be damned, filth!“ the monster yelled through his teeth and went straight for the head. Wounded Nogryl dodged under the swing and retaliated with a horizontal slash with his sword that was quickly blocked by the dark iron shield.

He kept swinging recklessly at the ur'glun chief as his foe walked backwards and blocked with his shield, almost stumbling and falling after each heavy blow, without a moment to rest. Nogryl simply overpowered him, and there was no opportunity to retaliate.

The small bits of iron flew around together with the sparks after the sound of each heavy blow as the sword teared through the shield.

But the human quickly grew tired as the blood gushed from his wounds and the beast smirked with a hideous grin. As soon as Nogryl stopped swinging, a blow of a mace knocked the helmet straight off his head, yet he somehow still stood on his feet.

He heard ringing in his ears, and his vision was doubled; he saw nothing in front of him but a dark shape swinging a mace at him while he parried instinctively as if an invisible force moved his arms.

In that moment, something awoke inside of him, and the ringing stopped as the blur disappeared before his eyes. He grasped his sword tight and roared a fierce battle cry as he used all the energy left in him for one decisive lunge.

He leaned in with the thrust as he held his weapon with both his hands. It went straight through the chestplate of his foe. A sharp monstrous growl teared through air, and the ur'glun chief was impaled by Nogryl's blade.

He lifted him high with his sword, above the heads of other combatants. The beast bled and dropped his mace as it's arms went limp, and its mouth spewed the dark and vile blood.

„Retreat!“ one of the ur'gluns screamed, and witnessing the death of their leader, the whole pack started retreating.

The men yelled in celebration as the battle was won, but Nogryl collapsed on the dry leaves.

Sir Victor ran towards him and handed him a strange red vial:

"Drink it! It's a healing potion!“ Nogryl took the vial, but instead of drinking it, he stood up and walked to a wounded young girl. He poured the potion into her mouth, and her pale face slowly started to look alive again, as if life slowly returned to her.

„She survived,“ Nogryl stated with his voice heavy, before collapsing again.

The rest of the group carried the wounded and the bodies of the dead back to the village of Lindenrow. The night was already dark by the time they reached the town, and the cries of widowed women and their children filled the air when they saw the bodies of the slain men. Many husbands, brothers, and fathers died that day, and those that were wounded had their wounds treated in the barracks.