The Last Banner

"Archers, keep those shamans pinned down!" Hadrian shouted. His voice carried over the screams and chaos, anchoring his men to their positions. He turned to one of his officers, a grizzled veteran named Marcus. "Take ten men and reinforce the spearmen on the left flank. If the wall falls, they'll pour through there first."

Marcus saluted briskly. "Yes, sir. You heard him! Move!"

Hadrian pivoted back to his musketeers, his mind racing. We can't hold like this forever. I need to keep them together. Fear will kill them faster than goblin blades.

He raised his voice again, sharp and commanding. "You're Hadrian's men! You've trained for this! They're just beasts—kill them like beasts!"

One of the younger musketeers, his hands trembling as he reloaded, looked up at Hadrian. "Do you think we can win, sir?"

Hadrian stepped closer, gripping the man's shoulder briefly. "We're not here to lose," he said firmly. "Follow my orders, and you'll live. Trust me."

The young man nodded, his fear replaced by a flicker of determination.

Another fireball streaked toward the wall, this one larger than the last. The archers tried desperately to pick off the shamans, but their crude shields and the press of goblin bodies offered too much protection.

Hadrian's jaw tightened as the fireball slammed into the already weakened section of the wall. The stone groaned and buckled before collapsing in a deafening roar, sending chunks of debris crashing to the ground.

A cheer erupted from the goblins as they surged toward the breach, their shrieks of triumph chilling in their ferocity.

Hadrian raised his sword, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Spearmen, to the breach! Musketeers, form a firing line! Do not let them through!"

The spearmen moved quickly, their shields locking together in a tight formation as they braced against the incoming wave. Behind them, Hadrian's musketeers reloaded with practiced efficiency, their barrels aimed over the spearmen's shoulders.

The first wave of goblins hit the spearmen like a tidal wave. Their jagged weapons clashed against shields, their bodies pressing forward with unrelenting force.

"Push them back!" Darius roared, his sword flashing as he cut down a goblin trying to climb over the shield wall.

Hadrian watched the chaos from just behind the line, his mind racing. He turned to his musketeers. "Fire at will! Keep them off the spearmen!"

The muskets cracked in rapid succession, their deadly projectiles punching through the goblins' crude armor. The front ranks collapsed, but more surged forward, trampling their own dead in their desperation to reach the humans.

We're holding—for now. But how long before another section of the wall gives way? The shamans have to be stopped.

He looked out over the battlefield, his sharp eyes scanning the horde for a weakness. There. The shamans. If we can break their concentration, we can buy time.

Hadrian turned to one of his officers. "Take five men and flank the shamans. Use the alleys to stay out of sight. If you can take even one of them out, it'll make a difference."

The officer hesitated, then nodded. "We'll get it done, sir."

From the breach, a goblin larger than the rest clambered over the rubble, his armor a patchwork of scavenged metal. He carried a massive, jagged axe, his yellow eyes locking onto Hadrian.

"Human leader!" the goblin bellowed, his voice guttural but loud. "You die now!"

Hadrian stepped forward, his sword raised. "You can try."

The goblin charged, his axe swinging in a wide arc. Hadrian ducked beneath the blow, his movements quick and precise. He struck out with his sword, slicing the goblin's arm.

The creature howled in rage, turning for another swing. Hadrian sidestepped, his blade flashing again. The goblin fell to his knees, blood pouring from multiple wounds.

Hadrian didn't hesitate. With one final thrust, he drove his sword into the goblin's chest.

The breach was bloody chaos, but Hadrian's men held their ground. The musketeers fired volley after volley, the spearmen forming an impenetrable wall of shields and blades.

As the goblins began to falter, their morale wavering under the relentless assault, Hadrian allowed himself a moment to breathe.

"Push them back," he ordered, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. "Push them all the way back."

At the gatehouse, Alexander watched the chaos unfolding on the walls, his jaw set in grim determination. The goblins' relentless assault pressed the defenders to their limits, but the gate had held so far. His knights stood ready behind him, their armor gleaming even in the dust-filled air.

"They're sending wolf-riders," one of his lieutenants called out, pointing to the flanking movement on the eastern side of the horde. A line of snarling goblins on oversized wolves galloped toward the gatehouse, aiming to encircle the defenders and break their formation.

Alexander's smirk was razor-sharp as he drew his sword. "They think speed will save them. Mount up!"

The knights obeyed without hesitation, climbing onto their warhorses as the clamor of the goblins grew louder. Alexander turned his horse toward the gate, raising his blade high. "On my command, we ride! For Thrace!"

A cheer erupted from the knights, their disciplined ranks surging forward as the gate creaked open just enough for them to charge.

The cavalry thundered out onto the battlefield, their polished lances gleaming like spears of sunlight. They smashed into the wolf-riders with devastating force, the impact scattering the goblins like leaves in a gale. Wolves howled, and their riders shrieked as they were impaled or trampled underhoof.

"Press them!" Alexander shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. His blade slashed through a goblin, then another, his movements fluid and precise.

The knights wheeled around, preparing for another charge. The goblins, though shaken, began regrouping, their shamans focusing their magic to block the cavalry's path back to the gatehouse.

"Trap!" one of the knights shouted as the ground beneath them trembled. A jagged fissure opened, splitting the earth and forcing the horses to scatter.

Alexander's warhorse reared, its eyes wild with fear as goblins surged toward them. He steadied the animal with practiced ease, his sword swinging in wide arcs to keep the attackers at bay.

"Back to the gate!" Alexander called, his voice resolute even as goblins closed in around them.

But then it happened—so fast that no one could react. An arrow whistled through the air, striking Alexander squarely in the head.

He didn't even cry out. His body stiffened for a heartbeat before he slumped forward, sliding from his saddle and crashing to the ground.

"Lord Alexander!" one of the knights shouted, his voice filled with horror.

The goblins howled in triumph, their cries echoing across the battlefield. The knights fought valiantly to recover their leader's body, but the sheer number of goblins forced them back toward the gatehouse.

Alexander's form disappeared beneath the swarm, his golden hair slick with blood as the goblins tore at him in a frenzy.