Hero of Lichfrost

by M E Robinson

  Pausing, Alistair stared down at the gathered militia. The militia had gone silent, a solemn air filling the plains.

  “However, that will not happen! Today, we shall sweep the goblins from our lands, and drive them back to the north! Brothers, sisters, lend me your strength! Today, we show those monsters the pride of Novanalba!” Alistair roared, his voice resounding throughout the plains.

  With a resounding roar, the militia responded to Alistair’s speech, clanging weapons on shields as they howled their strength to the sky.

  Calming down, Alistair regarded the assembled militia warmly. “There are more than thirty confirmed goblin bases that we must destroy today. As such, you will be divided into platoons numbering roughly fifty members each. Each platoon will be commanded by a captain. For the division, check your militia badges to find your platoon. We depart from the Vindammer teleportation circles in half an hour. Good luck! And tonight, may your blades be dyed in the blood of goblins!” Alistair cried.

  With a resounding cry, the militia answered Alistair’s parting words. As people around him cheered, Eric’s attention turned towards his militia badge. Alistair had said that the badges would show them which platoon they were a part of, but currently, Eric saw nothing different about the silver pin.

  While Eric was staring curiously towards his badge, the other two men on the platform were conversing with Alistair. As the conversation finished, both men saluted him, jumping off the platform and heading in opposite directions while Alistair fiddled with a strange circular object under his cloak. Tapping the mysterious object against a ring on his left hand, Alistair held the object aloft, closing his eyes tightly in preparation for what came next.

  With a burst of light, the circular object flared to life, an enormous beam of multicoloured light bursting from the surface and shooting into the air. Sensing a disturbance nearby, Eric looked up. With a dumbfounded expression he watched as the beam of light climbed high into the air, where it then split into hundreds of smaller strands of light, each strand of light descending towards a different militia member. Still clutching his militia badge in his hand, Eric observed as a strand of light approached his hand, burrowing into the militia badge where it disappeared. As the light faded, Eric’s militia badge began to glow, a bright white and blue emblem appearing upon its polished silver surface.

  As the last strands of light disappeared, Alistair opened his eyes. “Your badges show the symbol of your platoon. In a moment, the captains will produce a similar symbol in the air above them. Please head towards the symbol that matches your badge,” Alistair explained simply, pocketing the strange orb and raising his right hand into the air.

  As he did so, a new light flashed from a badge clutched in his fingers. Rising into the air, the light took on the shape of a crest, with the appearance of a white crow over a background of waves, similar to the emblem currently shining from Eric’s badge. Across the plains, similar emblems began to appear, shining brightly above the heads of the militia as they watched, transfixed.

  Snapping out of his reverie, Eric began to head towards Alistair, elbowing his way through countless other militia members attempting to head in every other direction. As he closed in on Alistair’s position, he encountered Ryan who was talking with Mikasa and another man as they moved in the same direction as Eric was.

  “Eric! Glad you could make it, Jun bet you wouldn’t come,” Ryan said cheerfully, waving him over.

  “Bet with who?” Eric asked curiously, giving Mikasa an awkward nod.

  “Griffin. He also bet that you’d be late, which Mark took up and lost.”

  “Poor Mark - if he would just tell me about these bets and agree to give me ninety percent of his winnings, I would make an effort to show up on time,” Eric lamented.

  Ryan laughed. “No you wouldn’t.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Eric agreed. “Where are the others anyways? I thought you’d be with them.”

  “Nah, we split up a little while ago. I was with the others from the sword group. Only Mikasa and Zwei here made it into the top thirty-two though.”

  “Good to meet you, I’m Zwei,” the man accompanying Ryan said, offering his hand which Eric shook. Zwei was an older gentleman, with grey hair and an impressive looking moustache. His kind eyes twinkled, as if he’d just heard a joke, and couldn’t wait to tell everyone.

  “I’m Mikasa - I think we’ve met,” said Mikasa, offering her own hand.

  “Yeah, sorry about yesterday. You fought well though,” Eric replied.

  Face hardening, Mikasa looked away. Seeing this, Ryan laughed while Zwei looked on in amusement.

  “The young Miss here was certain she could defeat you. Your sudden reveal of your skills has left her most upset,” Zwei explained. “She’s done nothing but talk about you all day.”

  “I have not!” Mikasa yelped, turning furiously upon her companion.

  “Haven’t you? Maybe I should call Saber, or Tafita over to confirm?”

  “Don’t you dare,” Mikasa threatened, her hands going to her waist where two swords were sheathed. Zwei smiled simply, not saying another word as Ryan did his best to disguise his laughs as coughs.

  Shaking his head, Eric came to a halt. Just in front of him was a large group of people. In the middle stood Alistair, conversing with the man who’d given out prizes the day before, Wavemoon or something like that, Eric thought as he gazed towards the rest of the group.

  Most of the faces around Alistair were unfamiliar, men and women with short cropped hair, an abundance of scars, and lithe builds. However, outside the main group stood another distinct group, comprised mainly, Eric recognized, from those who had made it to the top thirty-two of the tournament. Aria and Turk were both present, as were Seryllia, Gorin Greatarm, Kifax Catclaw, Tanix Reveil, and many others. Conspicuously absent were Hydrus, Barns, and Grott. Although, whether they’d deserted or just hadn’t arrived yet remained to be seen. Spying the rest of their friends, Eric and Ryan headed over to where Griffin, Mark, and the others were standing, with Mikasa and Zwei in tow.

  After a few minutes of waiting for everyone to arrive, Alistair turned to address the newly gathered platoon.

  “I believe we’re all here, so let’s get started. Crowsea Platoon’s mission is to assault a goblin base hidden to the north of Stillwood Forest, just at the southern tip of Lichfrost Forest. The reports we’ve gotten make it clear that this is going to be one of the hardest bases to assault. There is at least one hobgoblin commander, as well as numerous elite, soldier-class goblins stationed at the base. We shall be teleporting to a point just south of Lichfrost Forest, roughly a twenty minute march from the base. From there, we shall march to the base, obtain any documents in the commander’s possession, and then burn it to the ground. In order for this plan to succeed, the base must be destroyed and as many goblins as possible must be slain. They will show no mercy, and neither will we,” Alistair explained, catching the eyes of the onlooking militia.

  “As for the division of duties, the Novanalba Elite Scouts 7th Division will be the vanguard, led by me. We will take responsibility for eliminating the hobgoblin commander and also for tackling the elite soldier-class goblins,” said Alistair, gesturing to the men and women who surrounded him. “The militia will be the rearguard. It is your responsibility to ensure that we do not get flanked, and to prevent any goblins from escaping. Once the vanguard has entered the base, we will head to secure the command centre. The militia will be tasked with guarding us as we do so. Is that all understood?”

  An affirmative roar swept through the field as the militia and scouts voiced their approval.

  “Good! Militia, you will be under the command of Lieutenant Keeneye here - he will divide you into squads for the upcoming battle. Sergeants Scarcheek, Greenbranch, I need to speak with you.”

  Splitting off from the other scouts, a familiar face walked towards Eric and the other militia members.

  “Can I get all archers and mages to stand over here,”
said Owin, addressing the militia.

  With a sly smile, Eric walked over, giving the Lieutenant a quick salute. Seeing Eric, a flash of recognition entered Owin’s eyes.

  “Sup,” Eric mouthed.

  “We’ll talk after,” Owin mouthed back.

  Giving Owin an almost imperceptible nod, Eric stood in place, waiting for the other mages and archers to arrive. Working quickly, Owin split the militia into squads of five, doing his best to group each squad according to their strengths. Jun, Astrid, Rob, Tanix, and another archer that Eric didn’t recognize were designated the ranged squad, leaving Eric to be placed in a normal squad with melee fighters. Fortunately for Eric, this meant that he was placed with Ryan and Zwei, as well as Seryllia, who both Eric and Ryan gave a large berth. Kifax Catclaw, the adventurer who’d lost to Jun, was the final member of Squad Four. As the highest ranked militia member in the squad, Eric was made the leader of Squad Four, much to Seryllia’s displeasure.

  As Owin finished assigning the last of the militia to squads, he beckoned towards Eric. “Kystfyr, come with me for a moment.”

  Receiving surprised looks from the rest of the militia, Eric walked over towards Owin, who led him a little ways away from the rest of the militia. Breaking into a smile, Owin clapped Eric heavily on the back.

  “I can’t believe we get to meet again so soon. You ready to get revenge on Wylls’ killers?” Owin asked.

  “You know it. Did I hear you were promoted? I could have sworn you were Sergeant Keeneye the last time we met,” Eric replied, returning Owin’s smile with a grin of his own.

  “Sure did. I was promoted for my efforts in getting that scouting report to the militia despite great personal risk,” Owin recited, mimicking the actions tone of the officer who had promoted him.

  “Congratulations, you’ll have to buy me a drink for that later,” Eric said with a wink.

  “Survive this and we’ll talk,” Owin laughed, dismissing Eric back to his squad.

  As Eric regrouped with Ryan and the others, Alistair finished his discussion with the scouts. Turning to his men, Alistair addressed the platoon.

  “Alright! We head for the teleport circle and then onto Lichfrost. Crowsea platoon, move out!” Alistair cried, marching north as the scouts banded together in formation, making to follow their commander. The militia followed along behind in a far looser formation, chatting with their fellows and eyeing the scouts nervously. Alistair led the platoon towards a cleared-out area to the northeast of Vindammer Town. There, they were met by a squad of mages, each one wearing navy blue robes with an icy stone on the front that showed their status as mages of the Rimestone Circle.

  “Captain Alistair,” one of the mages spoke, stepping forward to give a salute.

  “Reynus, we’ll be heading out first.”

  “Of course, what’s your destination?” Reynus asked.

  “HMNSU Teleport Circle 902, Stillwood Forest Exterior,” Alistair replied crisply.

  “For one hundred people?”

  “Ninety-six. We’ve had a few deserters.”

  “Mmmmh. Right this way, please instruct your platoon to stand in the circle and move as little as possible.”

  Following their captain’s lead, the Crowsea Platoon followed Alistair into a large stone circle, engraved with countless runes all across its glossy surface. Strangely enough, despite being outdoors, the circle showed no signs of being weatherworn at all, with a look that would not have been out of place inside a historical monument such as the Taj Mahal.

  As the last militia member stepped onto the circle, the head mage raised his hands, directing the other mages to various points just outside the circle.

  “Ninety-six people to HMNSU Teleport Circle 902, Stillwood Forest Exterior. Begin casting,” Reynus barked, his hands weaving an intricate pattern as numerous runes began to appear in front of him. With practiced movements, the other mages followed his example, each concentrating as they deftly wove arcane formations into the air in front of them. Eric only recognized a few of the runes in passing, such as the Wind rune as the mages completed their task. With a look of satisfaction, Reynus finished his last rune. Checking to make sure that his colleagues were ready, he gave Alistair a calm look.

  “Good luck,” Reynus said simply.

  With that, the runes engraved in the stone circle flared to life. A blinding light emerged from below as the runes in front of the mages were absorbed into the stone circle. Closing his eyes tightly, Eric had a sudden sensation of weightlessness, similar to when he’d been teleported by Arthal back in the tutorial.

  Chapter 42

  With a soundless roar, the light disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Feeling his feet hit solid rock once more, Eric opened his eyes. Straining slightly to rid his vision of remnant flashes of light, Eric attempted to make out where they were. The first clue to their new location was the steady drip of water onto rock. Looking around, Eric could just barely make out an unlit cavern, only dimly illuminated by the fading runes of the teleportation circle below.

  With a burst of light, a small orb of light appeared above Alistair’s head.

  “We’re currently at a hidden teleportation array of the Novanalban military. Do your best to leave as few tracks as possible as we leave. It would be best if this place remained undiscovered,” Alistair said harshly, leading the way out of the narrow cavern.

  Emerging into the light, Eric scrunched his eyes as a raindrop landed on his nose, shaking his head slightly to rid the water from his face. Unfortunately, this was only the first drop among many, as the rest of the platoon discovered as they followed Alistair out into the forest. Donning a cloak from his storage, Eric threw the hood over his head, doing his best to stay dry as the platoon began to march through Stillwood Forest.

  Alistair led the platoon in a brisk march, making great time as they traversed the scar in the land between Stillwood Forest and Lichfrost Forest. Unlike the last time Eric had entered Lichfrost Forest, there was no warning. Instead, an unnatural stillness greeted the Crowsea Platoon as they marched into Lichfrost Forest. On the way, they encountered a few goblin scouts, but the scout unit’s forward scouts dispatched the small patrols quickly and effectively, ensuring the platoon’s safe passage through the woods.

  Raising his fist, Alistair called the platoon to a halt. Just in front of them, the treeline came to an end atop a small ridge leading down into a cleared out plain. There in the middle of the plain was the goblin base that Eric, Turk, and Aria had stumbled upon in their first adventure into Lichfrost Forest. Clenching his fist tightly, a vision of the hobgoblin, Grimarok, who’d pursued them rose unbidden in his mind, the monster’s sabre rushing towards him to deal the finishing blow just as it had back then.

  No, Eric thought, shaking his head. This time, it would be different. He was stronger now, more experienced. Even if the hobgoblin had him totally outmatched, he refused to lose. No, Eric swore. He couldn’t lose. Until he got his revenge on Hydrus, he would never again bow down before another’s strength. Even if it cost him everything, he would win. Without realizing it, Eric’s fingernails had dug into the base of his palm, leaving bloody furrows in the skin. Unclenching his fists, Eric wiped the blood discreetly on his pants, silently plotting his revenge as Alistair addressed the platoon.

  “Just behind that ridge is the goblin base. Remember, I will lead the vanguard in a charge. The militia is to follow along behind us. Scout Units One and Two, you’re in charge of neutralizing any ranged hostiles. Units Three and Four are to spearhead the charge with me. Units Five and Six are to follow behind and cleanup any kills we miss. Mage unit, no need to refrain from using fire spells. Pelt them with ice and fire. Militia squads, follow behind us and guard the flanks. Let’s move!”

  Gripping a large claymore, Alistair left the cover of the trees as he charged down the hill towards the goblin base. Behind him streamed the scouts, each carrying a short sword and a large shield. Two squads carried bows, loosing arrows towards goblins on th
e walls of the base.

  As the first goblin spied the assault force, it tried to raise the alarm. Before the cry could even leave its throat, a goose-feathered arrow cut it short, toppling the goblin silently from its post. Several more cries were cut similarly short before an alert goblin avoided the arrow aiming for its chest. Gripping the shaft that now grew from its shoulder in pain, the goblin let out a loud warning cry as it snapped the arrow in half, leaving a part of it inside its shoulder as it raised the alarm.

  “Schwiiit! Schwiiit!” The cry was taken up, as the goblins inside the base rushed to respond to the assault.

  With a grim look in his eye, Alistair rushed towards the main gate, where two goblin sentries were slumped by the entrance, the multitude of grey-feathered shafts emerging from each of them a testament to the deadly aim of the scouts. Rushing inside, Alistair’s claymore flashed, sending a pair of goblin heads flying as the defenders struggled to get into formation just inside the gates. Behind him, the scouts rushed forth, their short swords flashing in the grey light as they engaged the goblin forces.

  As Eric charged down the hill with the rest of the militia, he observed the goblin base. The base had grown bigger since he’d last seen it, with large fifteen-foot-tall palisade walls enclosing a base that was several hundred metres in diameter. Behind the base, numerous tents could be seen, where toiling goblins wielding axes were slow to react to the attack, still hard at work chopping trees to use for reinforcing the base.

  Focusing on the charge, Eric and the rest of Squad Four followed the scout unit inside, setting to work reinforcing the elite scouts. The scouts worked in squads of five, each squad reinforcing their fellows as they carved their way inside the goblins’ formation. Clearly used to working together, the scouts had assumed an arrowhead formation, with Alistair’s squad at the tip, driving a wedge into the goblins ranks.