Chapter 13

Day by day, the goblin army drew nearer to the kingdom, the impending final clash loomed like a dark cloud, and both sides braced themselves for the ultimate showdown that would decide their fates. General Lance, consumed by a sense of urgency, had tirelessly toiled since the king's command to assemble the twelve knights who would stand as the kingdom's last line of defense. However, amidst the mounting tension, he could only muster a mere five of them: Alfred, Eadgar, Edward, Aella, and Galahad.

Aella had embarked on a recruitment mission, searching for talented individuals to bolster the kingdom's army. With her head of red hair and fiery fury, she was well known as the Red Tornado, a deadly attraction. On the other hand, Galahad possessed a calmer personality and a flirtatious nature that left young girls smitten wherever he went. Having recently returned from a mission, he was granted a period of rest before being assigned his next undertaking.

As the five knights sat together in the waiting room, awaiting the arrival of General Lance, a sense of peace eluded them. It had been an eternity since they last gathered in such a manner, and the occasion of all twelve knights appearing together was an incredibly rare occurrence. The last time it had happened was during King Borosik's coronation, a memory etched in their minds.

Alfred spoke first, "Well, it has been such a long time that I almost forgot the sight of your face, Galahad. Where did you venture off to on your last mission?"

Galahad's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief, "You may have forgotten about my face, old man, but I can never forget the sight of your hideous mustache." Alfred's expression darkened at the mention of his beloved facial hair being insulted.

"Still the same jesting fool, I see. I hope you haven't ensnared any new village girls with that charm," Alfred retorted sharply. There were rumors that some village girls in the surrounding of Yosnad were taken by Galahad, although he had denied such doings.

Aella interjected with a hearty laugh, attempting to ease the tension between the two men, "Enough already, Alfred and Galahad. Time has certainly passed since our last mission together, seven years ago, when we were called upon to journey to the fabled seven cities of gold."

Eadgar added, his voice laced with intrigue, "Pray, enlighten us about the intriguing aspects of your recent mission, Galahad. You see, my brother and I are rarely assigned such ventures." He intended to divert the attention of the first commander, aware of Alfred's unwavering affection for his mustache, which he guarded with a fierce, almost deadly, devotion. The people in the room were well aware of this, understanding that joking about it further would be met with dire consequences.

Galahad scratched his head, "Ah, I was sent to the accursed land of Feyrith, the forsaken realm swallowed by endless stretches of desolate sand. Even now, after two grueling months, the grains of sand cling to my boots, a constant reminder of that godforsaken place. My purpose was to serve as an escort to our esteemed salesman, tasked with securing an audience with the wretched king who presides over that forsaken land. The knights, knew all too well who Galahad referred to, which is the renowned trade minister, overseeing the treacherous trade routes from Yosnad to the far reaches of distant lands. In his twisted way, the trade minister could be deemed the epitome of his vile profession."

The rest of them shook their heads, for they all knew that the trade minister was a corrupt man who ensured he emerged victorious in every deal he made. King Borosik, though mad, possessed an uncanny ability to recognize talent. The source of the trade minister's origin remained a mystery to the nobles, leaving them in awe of the king's hidden connections.

"How about you, Eadgar? What have you been up to?" Although Galahad spoke to Eadgar his gaze was fixed upon Edward, the other twin. He had heard the news of the recent loss of twenty thousand soldiers a few days ago. The renowned genius of the battlefield had suffered a crushing defeat. Eadgar let out a heavy sigh, weariness evident on his face as he responded,

"Well, I have been confined to patrolling this castle, our duties limited to that alone," Eadgar whispered, his voice laden with a sense of unease. "Meanwhile, Edward has been working closely with the general, devising new strategies to vanquish the goblins."

He paused for a moment, before continuing in a hushed tone, "However, something far more sinister is unfurling beyond these walls. An unholy mist has enshrouded the goblin camp, swathing it in an eerie darkness that has lingered for the past two days. Our brave scouts, once venturing into the treacherous depths of their domain, now find themselves paralyzed, unable to glean any further intelligence."

The mention of the mysterious fog surprised Galahad. He had heard tales of such phenomena in ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge, where darkness and magic entwined to birth nightmares into the world. His mind raced with grim thoughts and dark possibilities.

"Are you suggesting that this fog is no ordinary mist, Eadgar?" Aella interjected, her voice laced with a sense of unease. She had caught up earlier through her subordinate on the current situation. "I have never witnessed such an eerie fog accompanying a goblin army before. Could it be that the goblins have sought aid from the dreadful creature known as Miremaw?"

Alfred turned his attention to his companions, his gaze serious. "I do not believe so," he replied with certainty. "I returned from the domain of Miremaw only yesterday, and the frog monstrosity still dwells within its wretched realm. I made certain to confirm its presence before my departure."

Miremaw, the secondary monstrosity lurking in the twisted forest surrounding Mount Kalib, resided adjacent to the goblin king's territory. It stood as a colossal frog, towering on two formidable legs, its forehead adorned with a menacing horn. While lacking the grand ambitions of the goblin king to conquer Castle Clovershire, Miremaw possessed a malevolence that rendered it one of the four dreaded monstrosities. Casting a thick mist over a large area to trap its unsuspecting prey is one of its powerful skills. There are two other monstrosities in that forest but none of those have mist-like abilities.

Galahad rubbed his forehead in frustration, his brow furrowing in concern. "Well then, we will have to wait for the big boss man to brief us," he sighed, referring to the general his voice tinged with weariness.

Edward, who had remained ominously silent, finally spoke with a grave tone, his words laden with an undercurrent of horror. "We dare not underestimate the goblins," he uttered, his voice laced with a deep sense of dread. "The loss we suffered... there must be something more at play here. I cannot fathom how they were all mercilessly slaughtered by the goblin king."

The other knights exchanged somber glances, their expressions mirroring the weight of the situation. Their sources of information echoed Edward's concerns, revealing that the goblin king, even with the dagger he had obtained, could not possess the kind of power necessary to obliterate twenty thousand trained soldiers in a single night.

Eadgar nodded, his expression reflecting a mixture of caution and curiosity. "I understand, brother. However, let us gather more information before we proceed. This entire situation reeks of dark and twisted intentions, with many crucial pieces of the puzzle still missing," he emphasized, his words hanging heavy in the air.

At that moment, the doors to the waiting room opened. General Lance entered, looking more tired than before. He waved at his knights, who were standing to salute him. The general was not a man of many formalities, so when he was with his closest comrades, he would relax on the salutes and greetings.

"Galahad and Aella, welcome back. Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to meet with you since your return," General Lance addressed them solemnly, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "Alfred, welcome back as well. You've done an excellent job with the white ogres. I've heard that the witch is pleased with the new materials."

Alfred, Galahad, and Aella responded in unison, their voices filled with reverence as they greeted their revered commander. They understood the significance of showing respect to the general, even though he would have been lenient had they not saluted. Edward and Eadgar also gave their greetings to the general

Observing the weariness etched on the general's face, Alfred's voice filled with concern as he addressed the exhausted leader. "General, you appear remarkably fatigued. Are the goblins the sole cause of your weariness? Or are there other situations that had appeared" Alfred, having been by the general's side for a considerable time, knew that it required dire circumstances to witness signs of strain on the normally composed general's countenance.

General Lance glanced at his knights and spoke with a somber tone, "Harold has brought news of a sighting, he saw a new type of goblin, suspected to be a goblin king"