"Sounds good to me."

Silence hung between Qrs and Avod for a moment at her immediate response.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, "That was quick."

"Considering the options that are available," Avod told him, "it's not much to think about. We have something you need, and you can provide us with something useful in return. I doubt anyone will find fault with that."

Qrs supposed he might have just been thinking himself in circles, worrying over how his people's shortfall in hunters might be exploited by the others. It didn't help that Avod was away for a whole three days, leaving him to stew pointlessly over it.

Her lieutenants were sent back occasionally with supplies and more Goblins to help with work around the camp. Surveying the steady stream of new arrivals setting up across the river, Qrs still couldn't get over how fast they collected: they started out with just their four Hobgoblins perhaps four days ago and added sixty-six Goblins by the time he saw them the next day. On the evening of their third day of 'recruiting', they numbered over two thousand.

"They're mostly just Gobs," Avod smirked as he scanned the opposite shore. "There's some decent ones in there, but the majority are fodder. The ones we get equipment on, we'll start training."

"Training…"

"Yep!" Avod grinned, "Gobs'll be skirmishers, mostly. Bugbears'll be our heavies. Sooner or later, we'll have enough wolf riders to form proper cavalry wings. There's a fair number of mystics in every bunch we bring back too."

"…have you done something like this before?" Qrs frowned, "Everything is just sliding into place so naturally."

"Haha, nope. Goblins are kinda sparse in the hills, so there's not much chance to. It's just one of those things – like birds just knowing how to build nests. That's the saying, right? Orcs have hordes, Hobgoblins have–"

"Armies, yeah," Qrs finished for her. "It's one thing to hear about it, but it's another to see it happen in front of you."

"It's too bad we can't stay for much longer," Avod told him. "'Recruitment' isn't usually even necessary – once Goblins catch wind that there's a new Goblin army somewhere, they just start heading over on their own."

"…and that's natural, somehow."

"Probably is," Avod nodded, "but it also stinks to be a Gob. Out in your little tribe, you're one of the weakest things out there – everyone's out to turn you into a slave or eat you. Joining up with a Goblin army, things start looking up. You get equipment and training, and once you're toughened up, you get put in with a bunch of your Goblin buddies. At that point, the tables have turned – instead of everyone and their mother thinking your little green ass is a convenient snack, they're running away from a swarm of yas."

"That only works to an extent," Qrs said.

"Sure," Avod agreed, "but it's a lot better than what they had before. Anything too tough for the average Gob, we'll use casters or Bugbears against. If anyone like you shows up, well, that's what people like you are for."

Qrs snorted. That was always the way it worked out, no matter what race, it seemed. Regular individuals were numerous and could be set to perform many tasks that covered a large area, but champions of Qrs' strength were extraordinarily rare. Powerful individuals could lay waste to armies of average individuals, but that was only if they stood around to let you hit them, and your opposite number wasn't waiting to stop you from doing so.

With singular strength came the fact you were a single person who could only be in a single place at any given time. No adversary was insane enough to line up all of their forces nicely so that you could trample them with a single, powerful, champion. While a champion fought one threat, a hundred other threats in a hundred other places could show up at the same time.

As such, the strong were often reserved to keep the strong in check, and this thinking applied to every degree of strength downwards. Frequently, the highest quality rank and file combatants were the ones that actually did most of the work in a war – or even a border where raids frequently occurred. Yet, if one side failed to maintain the balance of power in terms of powerful individuals at all times, they would quickly crumble and be subjected to a one-sided slaughter.

"Is there anyone like that ahead of us?" Qrs asked.

"Not that I've heard from the Gobs we've picked up so far," Avod answered. "It's more likely that anything like that will be coming from behind. If anything like those horned Devils back in the hills show up, we can just kiss our asses goodbye. Anyways, if you want to get your people to work, we'll need shortbows, spears, and daggers for our Gobs. Bugs'll need some big two-handed weapon – even a club will do. Shields for everyone will make them that much more annoying. Hide armour for our sergeants, too. None of it has to be too fancy – Dwarves'll pop up sooner or later for that."

"I'll let my people know," Qrs told her. "Anything else?"

"Litters for our baggage and more blankets," Avod told him. "Can't recall anything else too urgent off the top of my head. Hopefully those Gnolls show up soon – the longer we stay, the more likely all hell will break loose. Three days is already making me jumpy. I'll be in the Goblin camps on the other side of the ford if you need me."

Avod turned and waved loosely behind herself as she strode off towards the riverbank, and Qrs went on his own way. He kept the worry off of his expression as he spoke to his tribespeople, but, like the Hobgoblin captain, a sense of unease was increasing with every additional day that they stayed.

Their first night at the ford was accompanied by attacks of a similar strength to those that occurred while they were fleeing from their villages. They similarly stopped at dawn, granting the defenders a long and welcome reprieve. It was not without problems, however.

The Hellhounds, which represented the least threatening of the fiends that attacked them while they were on the move, became problematic when they set up camp. Their behaviour changed: instead of trying to wound the villagers or maybe drag them away, they attacked the encampment in general: setting alight waterproofed tents, stockpiles and defensive wooden barricades with their fiery breath. The dense shrubs and unfamiliar terrain of the valley floor allowed several dozen to sneak through during the earlier waves on the first night, and so the villagers spent the following day clearing a wide swathe around the encampment to keep them from getting through unnoticed.

It wasn't enough to prevent Jaldabaoth's forces from attempting to exploit the newfound weakness on the second night, however. New Hellhounds, measuring at least 150 centimetres at the shoulder appeared, leading packs of their lesser kin. They turned out to be no stronger than the average warrior, but the threat they represented to the camp behind the lines was an unignorable distraction that opened gaps in their defences. Rather than the larger Hellhounds breaking through, the smaller ones slipped in. Fortunately, the villagers were already wise to their tricks and dispatched them before any major blazes could erupt.

The Blader-like fiends also continued to rain down upon them with every wave, but by the second day there were enough javelins made for the hunters to thin them out greatly as they flew in. Qrs eyed a basket filled with the metre-long throwing weapons – they were placed at regular intervals along the defensive line, each with a hunter stationed beside it. The hunter nodded as he passed, and Qrs continued his inspection of their defences.

As expected of their long ordeals, the defenders had become stronger – even those villagers who had come forward to fight. The stockpiles of extra equipment that they had brought with them were distributed to raise the overall quality of the arms and armour all along the line. They weren't exactly all adorned in dwarven equipment, but the worst was at least being replaced by the craftsmen working throughout the day.

Their supplies were reorganized to be less vulnerable, as were the orientation of their tents. Barricades had been replaced and doused in water; belongings readied to be taken away at a moment's notice. Fresh defenders had taken their places for the evening. There was nothing more that could be done with what they had on hand – they had prioritized preparations for defence, and now all they could do was welcome their fiendish foes with steadfast determination.

The sound of a horn carried over the cool evening winds, and Qrs' ears swiveled in its direction.

One…two…three…

Qrs stopped in his tracks, sharing a glance with several of the warriors nearby. The horn let out a single blast, two seconds on the heels of the three. A furrow formed on his brow. One blast was a long range warning, two ordered the foragers out in the valley to immediately return to camp, three meant that a stronger wave than experienced previously was on its way. Four was…

"Hey, was that three or four?"

"Shh!"

Another horn sounded.

One…two…three…four.

A chill seized his body.

『ROUSE AND RISE!』

Qrs let out a great bellow, broadcasting his voice over the thousands of tents along the ford. The horns continued, drawing closer as they sounded their dire warning. Four blasts meant that their defences were probably insufficient for the incoming attack. They needed to run.

『Get off your asses – we're leaving! Get your families together, pick up your stuff and follow your village elders!』

The horns continued to blare. One sounded three blasts, then was abruptly cut off during the fourth. Qrs looked up to a sentry standing high on a makeshift watch post.

"What do you see out there?" Qrs asked her.

"Villagers are still coming out of the brush. Hunters now, too…what is that?"

The huntress blinked her eyes tightly twice and peered out with a furrow on her brow.

"The slope of the valley is shifting…moving? It's like a flock of birds, or bats, or…"

"Imps."

"They're coming in fast! Five minutes, at this rate."

Qrs looked around behind the defensive line, where his people were already streaming away, leaving bits and pieces of the camp behind. Enough Imps to look like a flock of bats that covered the valley slope – how many thousands was that?

『Rhag.』

"I'm right here."

He jumped at the sound of her voice beside him.

"Did you hear all that?" Qrs asked her.

"I did," Rhag nodded. "We've put half of our mystics along the line, while the other half are tending to the people. Even if they're Imps, that many…well, we have one good chance at keeping them from getting past us, provided nothing interferes with it. Be ready to issue your commands."

"Right on top of us?"

"Right on top of us."

Rhag turned away to take her place directly behind the line, leaving Qrs to his doubts. It was a part of the defensive preparations they had come up with over the past few days, but he was dubious as to whether it would work. The spell was meant to stop volleys of arrows in the event that the Gnolls ever tried to invade their territory, but could it stop Imps?

He eyed the shifting cloud approaching them. Two minutes. He eyed the clearing, but there was no sign of Hellhounds or anything else coming overland. Qrs took a deep breath, sending his orders across the defensive line.

『Be ready to jump these little pricks. There's thousands of them, but there's thousands of us too – and we're a lot stronger. We need to get rid of as many as we can before they recover from our little surprise.』

All along the line, the defenders steeled themselves. Across the clearing, with the Imps half a minute away, flickers of flaming mouths announced Hellhounds breaking out of the brush.

Perfect.

Qrs smiled grimly. They hadn't announced themselves in advance with their telltale baying, but a massed assault was expected. The leading edge of the Imp swarm swept overhead.

『Wind Wall!』

Across the line, dozens of Druids cast the same spell simultaneously at his command.

"「Widen Magic – Wind Wall」!"

The cloud of Imps smashed into the wall of air that stretched into the sky over the line. From below, it looked like the tip of the swarm had been clipped off by a colossal pair of invisible shears. Thousands of stunned Imps rained down onto the field, creating a waist-deep pile of fiends. The Hellhounds charging across the clearing below collided straight into them.

『Clear out these pests!』

The line surged forward, warriors using great cleaving strikes to destroy several Imps at a time. Hellhounds started popping out of the mess, streaking by to chase after the refugees waiting to cross the ford. A small portion of the warriors turned to follow.

『Ignore them! Focus on the Imps before they recover and get away!』

The column escorts could handle the Hellhounds easily, as demonstrated during their initial flight. Healing the stings of thousands of Imps, however, would empty out their mana reserves in short order. The first few of the winged fiends were recovering from their tumultuous collision. Javelins from awaiting hunters shot out, dispatching them as they cleared the ground.

More and more of them rose, despite their efforts to dispatch them. Suddenly the javelins changed trajectories, and larger bodies came crashing down.

『It's those damn bug fiends! Watch your heads!』

Qrs leapt out, ichor splashing out into the air as he dispatched a dozen of them in quick succession. When he felt that the pressure on his part of the line had been sufficiently relieved, he looked back to the ford. Hundreds of Imps and Hellhounds had reached the rearguard, but it looked manageable – half of their forces were escorting the fleeing villagers.

What next, Jaldabaoth?

He felt like punching himself after the unbidden thought. All of the fiends that had been sent against them previously had appeared, which made him wonder what else would come. As the fighting died down, he looked around for a hunter that looked like they had been out on sentry duty.

"Were you out in the field this evening?"

"Yes, Chief," the huntress nodded.

"What else was coming?" Qrs asked, "Surely that wasn't everything…"

"It wasn't," the huntress shook her head. "The other ones were…slower. I don't know why they would be taking their time – they're a lot stronger than any of this stuff we've fought so far."

"How many of them were there? What did they look like?"

"Twelve of them: about as tall as an Ogre – twice as muscular. Giant bat-like wings, scales, long tail like a snake. It's head was like the skull of a deer or a goat, with flaming blue eyes."

"How strong would you say they were?"

"Really strong. Not as strong as you are, but far out of my own ability to handle."

Qrs examined the huntress. She was well seasoned and should be amongst the best of them. The newly appeared fiends she described were of a type he had never observed during his captivity.

He eyed the eerily empty battle line: there was no trace of the summoned wave that had filled their vision just fifteen minutes before, as their remains vanished into nothingness. Were these newly-discovered fiends the summoners? If they were casters that had already depleted their mana, then they would be significantly less of a threat than if they were fresh warriors.

"Were they holding any weapons?" He asked, "Whips or rods, maybe?"

"All of them had a huge maul," the huntress replied. "At least my size."

That didn't sound like a magic caster at all. The huntress was shorter than Qrs, but she was still nearly two metres tall.

He scanned the ford again. The first of the refugees were starting to scale the opposite shore, and there were no signs of extensive panic or disorder. Across the river, the Goblins were retreating ahead of them, into the dense forests of The Neck. The battle line looked mostly recovered. Qrs cast out his voice over the line again.

『We're good here; let's start heading to the ford. Maintain your lines – we still might have some nastiness incoming. If they do, try to stay on the defensive and I'll come deal with them one at a time.』