How could this happen…?
Waves of despair rankled the chief.
Soei’s final advice—to watch his back—was referring to this, no doubt. He thought he had the people under his full control. Even the more hawkish were faithfully following his orders, solidifying their defenses. And then his own son betrayed him.
Desperation overtook him. This was a terrible situation. If it kept up, the lizardmen would be ruined before tomorrow, much less in three days.
He looked down at his chief guard—his other child, Gabil’s sister. She noticed the signal and nodded. “Go!” he shouted, and the chief guard immediately slipped out of her shackles and ran off.
The alliance forces needed to be notified as soon as possible. They might get caught up in all of this otherwise. He had to prevent that. His pride as a lizardman, and as a leader, demanded it.
That envoy, the man named Soei, didn’t bother hiding his aura from him. Once they were out of this natural fortress, they might be able to follow it to wherever he was now. It was a slim chance, but it was all he had to offer his chief guard.
The lizardmen guarding the dungeon had taken measures to restrain both of them, but—perhaps out of distaste at the idea of abusing their former leader—they were not doing so with very much fervor. She quickly took advantage of that to escape.
For now, the chief felt relieved. He would have to stay here; that was his responsibility for now. All he could do was pray his daughter could complete the mission he gave her.
Only seven days. That was what he promised, and he had failed. He cursed his own worthlessness, there in his cell, and hoped it would not lead his allies to abandon him. Soei offered that alliance because, to his master, the lizardmen held some sort of value. If this coup made him change his mind, that would seal all their fates.
If this battle costs us the lives of those faithful to Gabil, so be it. Perhaps they had it coming. I just wish we could keep our women and children safe…
They had yet to even formally enact the alliance. The chief fully understood that he was wishing for the stars. But one desire still ruled over him—the desire that this tragedy wouldn’t spell doom for all the tribes he oversaw. He felt he owed them that much, after all these years, and no one could blame him for it.
The chief had a good idea of what was about to happen. Once Gabil was in control of all the tribes, he would immediately order an attack. They would have nothing left in the corridors, not even any defense mechanisms. Without any fresh soldiers to replace the wearied frontline fighters, and against an orc force that grew stronger as the fight wore on, it would only be a matter of time before their defense began faltering.
The women and children of each tribe had been evacuated to a chamber deep in the heart of the maze. They would then have nobody to protect them.
How did this happen?
Wailing about it now was pointless.
I will have to be the cornerstone of our final defense. I have to…at least…buy them a little more time…
Just a little more time. That was the best he could offer right now.
✦ ✦ ✦
On that day, the marshes were completely covered in orcs. An observer in the air would have seen them swarming for the cavern entrances like so many ants.
But even that was only a small part of the horde. Many were still in the forest, making their way toward the marshland region. And the main force, marching northward along the river, was still coming. They faced no resistance, nothing preventing them from covering the marshes and descending upon the caverns like an avalanche.
Now, though, there was a commotion in one small corner of the horde—the first clash between orc and lizardman out in the marsh.
✦ ✦ ✦
In these lands, the lizardman was king. Powerful in combat, they were capable of nimble, quick movements in the muddy, overgrown swamps they called home. That was how the battle began—a handful of fighters hiding in the tall grasses, sneaking up on a clutch of orcs.
Everything was going exactly as Gabil had hoped. His father, the former chief, and all those still loyal to him were shut up in a large underground chamber, and now he was back on the surface to reorganize his newly united troops, taking full advantage of the twisty access paths that crisscrossed over one another inside. The defensive forces were still in place—Gabil planned to wrap up the fight before they exhausted themselves.
He didn’t have an exact bead on the number of troops at the orcs’ disposal, but judging by the natural abilities of the two races, he figured there was nothing to worry about unless they were outnumbered ten to one or so. So what if they were throwing a ton of orc bodies at them? That didn’t change the core fundamentals of this matchup.
Plus, he had ordered his fighters to take a stick-and-move approach, dealing a blow or two and quickly falling back, just in case. Staying on their toes like that would let them regroup as often as necessary, readying themselves for the next strike.
Over time, it would cull the orc numbers drastically, dealing them a decisive blow. The orcs on the inside would lose contact with the outdoor forces, and with that, they’d be forced to retreat.
The lizardmen’s natural agility in these marshes made that strategy possible. Gabil was no talentless fool. He lacked his father’s ability to instantly gauge the entire theater of war in one glance, but the way he led his fighting men and women was worthy of praise. He had inherited a lot of talent from the former chief. Lizardmen were naturally attracted to the strong, the powerful—merely talking a big show wouldn’t be enough. Gabil’s men loved him, and the love proved that he was more than just bravado and mindless courage.
But would it be enough?
✦ ✦ ✦
The final line of defense, the forces tasked with guarding the largest underground chamber, numbered a thousand strong. That room was now filled with nothing but women and children—noncombatants. The grown women could fight if it came to that, but there was no use relying on them. That was why a thousand fighters were defending them, spread out across the assorted hallways linked to this room.
Each defensive line planned to gradually fall back over time, grouping en masse around the site of the final stand. Everyone else—seven thousand goblins, around eight thousand battle-ready lizardmen—was under the direct control of Gabil. The new chief believed they could win in straight combat, without using whatever geographical advantages the labyrinth offered. Thus, only a skeletal defense team was left inside, every remaining available soldier sent off to the marshes.
The initial strike came as a complete surprise to the orcs, who found their battalions cut off from one another and heavily damaged. The stragglers who managed to flee the lizardmen were subsequently isolated, making them ripe for the picking by the gangs of goblins. For a bunch of freshly minted soldiers, they performed magnificently, following Gabil’s orders to the letter. As they should have. Their lives were riding on this, too.
It was hard to predict in advance, but the armies under Gabil were showing a remarkable amount of synergy. So far, so good.
✦ ✦ ✦
Behold! Gabil thought. There was no need to fear this herd of pigs at all. My father’s age has clouded his mind. He fretted far too much about matters. Once he sees what I am capable of out here, I am sure he will recognize me as the new chief. We’d best clear the marsh of these pigs before long…
Gabil wanted this to be decisive. He wanted no room in his father’s mind for doubt about his son’s superior abilities. And even now, the cheering he heard in the distance seemed to indicate he was on the right track.
Look at that! These orcs could never hold a candle to us lizardmen!
He liked what he saw, as he surveyed the marshes before him. But this would be the end of his streak of luck. He had been expecting piles of dead orcs, and their foes’ morale subsequently crumbling. He was not aware of what made the orc lord a truly terrifying foe. His father did—and now, that single difference of opinion was making its presence known.
✦ ✦ ✦
Splish, crunch, splish, crunch.