Both goblins were twittering unhappily, nervous with fear, but one was more vocal than the other, enough to draw the attention of the Half-Titan. It watched it for a second, before reaching out with an irritated fist.
The Horned-Goblin's head was trapped within those vice-like Konbreaker claws before it even knew what had happened. There was a soft murmur, as it finally quietened down. But it was far too late by now. The Half-Titan vented its irritation. With a single slight squeeze, the goblin's head exploded.
Fragments of skull, brain and blood drifted to the floor. A headless torso collapsed with it. Like that, without even raising another finger, another one of Beam's enemies had been dealt with. But it was not as though that death came for free. The Half-Titan's actions quietened its subordinates.
They finally stopped looking to run away from Beam, as they realized that there was just as fearsome an enemy right at their backs, and now they'd plonked themselves in front of it.
Beam noted a flash of movement coming from behind him. His back had been towards the Gorebeasts the whole time. It seemed that their predatory nature could hardly resist such an offering. Or perhaps it was the display they'd witnessed from their leader – the fear of antagonizing it just as the Horned-Goblin had, perhaps that was what gave them the extra gal they needed to launch that attack.
But Beam had clocked their coming long before. His awareness of his surroundings was still a major weakness. He had a clumsiness to him, in mind and in body, that he struggled to rectify. There would be moments of brilliance in the most complicated of tasks, but then he would fail to notice something mundane.
He noticed this, though, for it had been part of his plan from the start. Though he moved like a monster, he did not completely abandon all wisdom of the human mind.
The soldiers called out to him.
"GOREBEASTS AT THE BACK, BOY!" The officer shouted. "MEN! LOAD! TARGET THE REMAINING HORNED-GOBLINS!"
Beam's sword flashed, and a headless Gorebeast went skidding past him. The other Gorebeast tried to change direction at the last second, but Beam had already turned upon it now. They were fast creatures, for true, but Beam had been getting faster every day. He still had yet to hit the limits of the second boundary.
It turned, and Beam's sword raked against its side, sending it off balance, and skidding into the slushy snow. He went after it, and with another blow, he ended its life before it could get to its feet.
His movements were beginning to grow overwhelming. There was a casualness to the way he dispatched of such enemies now that reeked of power. It was enough to unsettle enemies and inspire allies. Even with the Half-Titan still alive, and half the Horned-Goblins still remaining, such a feat of competence was enough to get the soldiers cheering.
"HAIL TO THE MOUNTAIN SLAYER!" One soldier shouted. He was a member of the defence team. They'd been busily digging the trench, seeking to deepen it and widen it, even as the battle went on. But hardly a single one of them managed to tear their eyes away from the battle for even a second.
Beam – and those single two reserve squadrons of archers – were all that stood between them and the most frightening monster that they had encountered on their entire expedition. For many of them, it was the most frightening monster that they'd seen in their lives.
Yet this young slayer was dealing with its offerings one after another, with more contempt than they'd ever seen anyone deal with them before.
"THE MOUNTAIN SLAYER!" Another soldier echoed, raising his shovel in a salute. They had to. To let such prowess go without acknowledgement felt like a crime. More shovels were raised as they cheered his success.
Normally, that would be when they earned themselves a scolding from their officers and their sergeants, but today, the officers remained quiet. They could hardly hold themselves back from joining in the cheers.
Even with a good portion of the enemy dealt with, the battle was still far from over. The main issue – the immovable boulder that was the Half-Titan – still lived. Not a single wound had been inflicted upon it.
Seeing that, Beam felt dissatisfaction well-up inside him. He was moving better than he had before. He was able to overcome enemy defences and encirclements faster than he ever had before. But he could still feel that it wasn't enough. He'd seen the enemies in the forest, the shadows of the woods. Their supply of monsters was nearly endless.
If he couldn't dispatch of a Half-Titan with ease, then how would he fare against two of them?
The magnitude of the calamity capable of causing these kinds of repeated monster attacks – it stood to reason that such a calamity would be far greater in strength than the monsters themselves. Speed was of the essence, strength was of the essence. This needed to be easy, Beam told himself.
The next cloud of arrows went flying. Beam ran with them.
Finally, the Half-Titan stepped forward. It used that shell on the front of its body, and easily repelled the arrows before they embedded their way onto the goblins that it had behind it.
The goblins were lucky that it did, for they were nearly frozen to the spot with fear. They knew that if they even showed the slightest signs of moving, then this cruel general of theirs would reach out with that stone-crushing grip and shatter their heads, just as they had seen it do before.
With the Half-Titan finally up front, it seemed as though it had given up playing the role of the commander. It gave a clack with its beak and the goblin archers loaded their bows behind it.
The final spear wielder amongst them was left with nothing to do aside from shiver, but that did not escape their leader's attention. It gave an order, but the creature didn't move. Beam could guess what the Half-Titan had asked of it.