The horde of goblins and wolves rapidly closed the distance toward the defensive lines.
Arrows and magic continued raining down from behind the walls.
Fireballs exploded amidst the charging wolves.
Icicle spears pierced through flesh.
Earth needles erupted beneath goblin feet.
Wind lances sliced through the battlefield while leaving trails of blood behind them.
Despite the relentless barrage—
The horde kept coming.
Dead wolves rolled across the dirt.
Burning goblins screamed while clawing at their own melting flesh.
Others continued charging even while wounded.
“Ten seconds!”
“Brace!”
The first line raised their shields.
CLANG! CLANG!
The reinforced shields slammed tightly together.
“Spears up!”
The shield-bearing guards lowered their spears toward the incoming wave.
Behind them, the second line carefully aimed their spearheads through the gaps between the shields.
A third line stood farther behind.
Not attacking.
Supporting.
Ready to absorb impact and prevent the formation from collapsing.
“Hold!”
The first line tightened their posture.
Right foot forward.
Center of gravity lowered.
Shoulders locked.
The ground beneath their boots shifted as they dug themselves firmly into position.
The wolves were almost upon them.
“Wait!”
The trainees behind the formation unconsciously held their breath.
“Wait!”
The growls became deafening.
Then—
“THRUST!”
The first line launched their spears forward in perfect synchronization.
CRUNCH!
Several wolves were pierced instantly before they could even collide with the shields.
One beast had its mouth skewered open.
Another was pierced directly through the chest before violently slamming against the shield wall while still twitching.
Blood sprayed across the frontlines.
SPLASH!
“Brace!”
The guards immediately pulled their spears back into position.
The next wave crashed forward.
Goblins.
Dozens of them.
The creatures stepped over the bodies of fallen wolves and their own dying allies without hesitation.
Bones cracked beneath their feet.
Blood splashed wildly across the dirt.
Some goblins even slipped across piles of corpses before scrambling back up while screeching.
“Second line!”
“Reach!”
The second line thrust their spears forward through the shield gaps.
Multiple goblins were pierced through the skull before reaching the frontline.
One goblin had its eye punctured clean through.
The spear burst out from the back of its head before the corpse collapsed backward into the horde.
Another goblin lost half its jaw after getting struck through the mouth.
Blood and broken teeth splattered across the shields of the first line.
Yet the horde continued pushing forward.
Gremlins suddenly darted through the gaps between larger goblins.
Small.
Fast.
Wild.
One nearly slipped beneath the shield line before a spear nailed it directly into the dirt.
Another leapt onto a shield while screaming madly.
“LEFT SIDE!”
A guard smashed the creature’s face apart with the edge of his shield before kicking the corpse back into the horde.
The battlefield slowly transformed into a wall of flesh and blood.
The trainees behind the formation stared in horror.
The spear wall moved like a machine.
Thrust.
Pull.
Brace.
Reset.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Then the pressure changed.
A group of hobgoblins suddenly charged through the corpses of the smaller goblins.
Unlike the others—
These monsters were larger.
Heavier.
Their bodies were packed with thick muscle.
Some wielded giant clubs while others carried rusted axes.
Several ignored arrows lodged in their bodies entirely.
One hobgoblin slipped on a corpse before immediately getting shoved forward again by the creatures behind it.
“Brace!”
The first line lowered themselves further.
The second line prepared their spears.
The third line stepped closer.
Ready.
The hobgoblins crashed into the shield wall.
BOOOOM!
The entire frontline shook violently.
Several trainees nearly stumbled backward just from witnessing the impact.
The guards grunted as their boots dug trenches into the dirt.
Wood creaked.
CREEEAK!
Arms trembled.
But the line did not break.
The third line immediately pushed forward from behind.
Like a spring.
Absorbing the impact.
Redistributing the force.
Keeping the frontline stable.
“THRUST!”
The first and second lines attacked together.
Spears pierced shoulders.
Arms.
Throats.
Faces.
But unlike the smaller goblins—
The hobgoblins did not fall immediately.
One monster forced itself forward despite having a spear lodged through its chest.
Another slammed its club against a shield hard enough to crack wood apart.
“Rotate left shield!”
A damaged guard immediately stepped backward while another replaced him seamlessly.
The spear wall continued moving.
Disciplined.
Controlled.
Relentless.
“Second thrust!”
The rear spearmen stepped forward again.
This time aiming higher.
CRACK!
A spear pierced directly through a hobgoblin’s eye.
Another thrust entered through the mouth and exited through the back of its skull.
Blood exploded across the shields.
The massive bodies finally collapsed.
Yet the battle still did not end.
Another wave of goblins rushed forward from the rear.
The creatures climbed over corpses desperately while shrieking wildly.
Some attempted to crawl beneath the shields.
Others hurled broken spears and stones toward the guards.
A goblin suddenly leapt onto the frontline while swinging a rusted cleaver wildly.
Before it could properly attack, three spears pierced through its stomach at once.
The creature convulsed violently before getting kicked back into the horde.
“Keep the line steady!” Lambert roared.
His voice thundered across the battlefield.
“Do not break formation!”
The guards immediately tightened their shields together again.
“Third line forward!”
The rear guards pushed against the backs of the frontline soldiers.
The pressure from the horde intensified.
Wolves slammed against shields.
Goblin bodies piled near the formation.
The ground itself became slippery from blood.
Several guards nearly lost their footing.
Yet the spear wall continued moving.
Like a machine built purely for war.
Thrust.
Pull.
Brace.
Reset.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The trainees watched in stunned silence.
For the first time—
They finally understood why Lambert spent weeks drilling the same movements into them repeatedly.
This was not simply training.
This was survival.
A wounded hobgoblin suddenly forced itself halfway through the shield wall.
Its face was covered in blood.
A broken spear shaft protruded from its shoulder.
Yet the creature still swung its club wildly toward the guards.
“RIGHT SIDE!”
Davion immediately stepped forward.
Clang!
His shield intercepted the attack directly.
The impact echoed loudly across the formation.
KRAAANG!
Before the hobgoblin could recover—
Reinhart’s spear pierced through its throat from the side.
Blood exploded from its neck.
The creature collapsed heavily onto the pile of corpses.
“Good spacing,” Reinhart muttered calmly.
Davion snorted.
“Shut up and focus.”
Meanwhile, farther behind the formation—
The mages finally began their second coordinated volley.
“Fire unit, release!”
Multiple fireballs shot across the battlefield.
The explosions engulfed several goblins at once.
BOOM! BOOM! FWOOOOSH!
Burning creatures stumbled wildly through the horde while spreading flames to nearby monsters.
“Wind unit!”
Wind lances followed immediately afterward.
The compressed blades of air tore through exposed goblins and wounded wolves.
Even the trainees could now feel the heat from the explosions reaching the walls.
The battlefield had become complete chaos.
And yet—
The frontline still held.
Relentlessly.
Methodically.
Like veterans who had repeated this countless times before.
Behind the defensive lines, the trainees watched the battlefield in stunned silence.
The spear wall continued moving rhythmically.
Thrust.
Pull.
Brace.
Reset.
Again.
And again.
The same movements Lambert had forced into them for weeks.
Only now—
The consequences were real.
Every successful thrust saved lives.
Every mistake meant death.
Several younger trainees were still trembling while gripping their weapons.
One child quietly wiped tears from his face while trying not to look away.
Another trainee stared blankly at the frontline while muttering under his breath.
“…They’re actually holding them back…”
A nearby older trainee tightened his grip around his spear.
“They’re not just holding them back,” he whispered.
“They’re controlling the entire battlefield.”
The realization slowly spread among the trainees.
The guards were not fighting recklessly.
Every movement had purpose.
Every step supported another person.
Every line protected the one behind it.
Leon’s eyes remained fixed on the frontline.
The fear in his stomach had not disappeared.
If anything—
It had grown even heavier.
The screams.
The blood.
The smell.
The brutality of the battlefield still made him want to vomit.
Yet at the same time—
He could not look away.
The veterans standing at the front looked overwhelming.
Not because they were invincible.
But because they continued holding the line despite the pressure.
A wounded guard with blood covering half his face still maintained his shield position.
Another guard whose arms were visibly trembling continued thrusting his spear alongside the others.
Even after watching allies get injured—
The formation never stopped moving.
Leon unconsciously tightened his grip around his own spear.
His palms were drenched in sweat.
Even now, his stomach still twisted every time a goblin’s skull exploded beneath a spear thrust.
The smell of blood refused to leave his nose.
Every scream from the battlefield made his body tense instinctively.
And yet—
His eyes remained locked onto the frontline.
Especially Lambert.
The veteran stood at the very center of the formation like an unshakable pillar.
Even amidst the chaos, Lambert’s movements remained calm.
Precise.
Controlled.
Every command he shouted instantly changed the movement of the battlefield.
“Rotate!”
The frontline shifted.
“Brace!”
The shields stabilized.
“Second thrust!”
The spear wall moved again.
The goblins died in waves.
Leon’s breathing slowly steadied.
For the first time, he finally understood why Lambert spent weeks forcing them to repeat the same drills over and over again.
Those boring thrusts.
Those painful stance corrections.
Those endless repetitions.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Without discipline—
The line would collapse.
Without teamwork—
People would die.
Leon looked down at the spear in his hands.
A real weapon.
Not a training spear.
Not a wooden stick.
A weapon made to kill.
His grip trembled slightly.
Could he really use something like this against another living creature one day?
The thought made his chest tighten.
Yet when he looked back toward the frontline—
He saw exhausted guards continuing to hold their positions.
He saw adventurers stepping forward whenever the line weakened.
He saw mages carefully timing their attacks to avoid friendly fire.
Nobody was fighting for glory.
Nobody was smiling.
They were fighting because if they failed—
The village behind them would be destroyed.
Leon swallowed hard.
The battlefield was terrifying.
Cruel.
Disgusting.
But at the same time—
It was strangely inspiring.
The guards and adventurers standing at the frontline looked larger than life to him.
Not because they were fearless.
But because they continued fighting despite their fear.
Leon slowly tightened his grip around the spear.
His trembling lessened slightly.
“…I still want to become an adventurer,” he whispered quietly.
Nearby, several trainees who had been panicking earlier slowly straightened their posture.
The fear had not vanished.
But admiration slowly began mixing with it.
One younger child stared toward Davion with sparkling eyes.
Another trainee watched the mages launching coordinated attacks with visible awe.
Even the older trainees carrying shields unconsciously adjusted their stance to imitate the frontline guards.
For the first time in their lives—
The trainees finally understood why people admired adventurers and guards so much.
Not because they looked heroic.
But because they willingly stood between the village…
And the monsters trying to destroy it.
---
The guards, adventurers, and mages had already cleared more than half of the incoming wave.
Goblin corpses piled across the battlefield.
Dead wolves littered the plains.
The frontline continued advancing methodically while the remaining monsters desperately threw themselves against the spear wall.
And yet—
The massive cloud of dust lingering on the horizon had not settled.
If anything—
It was growing larger.
Darker.
Heavier.
The ground beneath the guards’ feet continued trembling faintly.
Not from the remaining goblins.
From something farther away.
“Just a bit longer!” one of the guards shouted.
“We’re almost done clearing the wave!”
Several trainees visibly relaxed after hearing that.
A few even loosened their grip around their spears.
But Fidly’s expression remained tense.
He stepped beside Lambert and lowered his voice.
“…Lambert.”
“Hm?”
“There’s still no sign of the scouts.”
Lambert’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Those bastards wouldn’t die to goblins at this level.”
“Tsk.”
Fidly glanced back toward the horizon.
“And the dust still isn’t settling.”
Another hobgoblin collapsed near the frontline with a spear through its skull.
Yet the distant tremors continued.
Steady.
Rhythmic.
Tokotok… Tokotok… Tokotok…
The sound echoed faintly across the plains.
Several adventurers slowly turned toward the horizon.
“That must be them,” one guard muttered in relief.
Another adventurer frowned.
“…No.”
The rhythm was too fast.
Too heavy.
Too coordinated.
Then the howl came.
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—!!!
The sound exploded across the battlefield like a hunting cry.
Several trainees flinched instinctively.
The remaining wolves immediately became restless.
Some whimpered.
Others began retreating from the frontline entirely.
Even the goblins started panicking.
Several suddenly abandoned the charge and ran aimlessly across the battlefield.
Lambert’s expression instantly hardened.
“No…”
His grip tightened around his spear.
“Those are Gnolls.”
For the first time since the battle began—
His voice carried visible tension.
He immediately raised his weapon.
“EXTEND THE LINES!”
The formation shifted at once.
“Adult trainees to the rear support lines!”
“You are NOT engaging directly! Support the second line!”
“Third line move up!”
“Extend the outer flanks!”
“Archers conserve arrows!”
“Mages stop unnecessary casting!”
The earlier controlled battlefield atmosphere vanished almost instantly.
Even the veteran adventurers looked noticeably more serious now.
Several immediately checked their weapons.
Others repositioned toward weaker sections of the formation.
Captain Boom Boom slowly spun his oversized hammer around once.
For once—
Even he had stopped joking.
“Lambert!”
A voice suddenly shouted from the guard tower above the walls.
“Arrow supplies are getting low!”
“Tsk!”
Another voice echoed from farther behind.
“Mana reserves from the mages are dropping too!”
“Tsk!”
Lambert clicked his tongue harder this time.
His eyes never left the horizon.
Then—
The massive dust cloud suddenly split apart.
And countless figures emerged from within it.
Gnolls.
Hundreds of them.
Lean bodies covered in rough brown fur.
Long limbs built for speed.
Jagged weapons clutched tightly in their claws.
Predatory yellow eyes gleamed beneath the setting light.
Unlike the goblins—
They did not scream wildly while charging.
They moved with terrifying coordination.
Rows of gnolls sprinted across the plains like hunting beasts chasing wounded prey.
Some ran on all fours.
Others carried curved blades and crude javelins.
A few larger gnolls barked sharp growls toward the others while maintaining formation.
The trainees felt their blood run cold.
These monsters were different.
The goblins had looked chaotic.
Savage.
Stupid.
But the gnolls—
Looked like predators.
Fast.
Disciplined.
Relentless.
And they showed no signs of stopping.