Encounter

After leaving Beregost, the Flaming Fist squad continued south along the Coast Road under the banner of the Seven Suns Merchant Alliance.

But the road to Nashkel was destined to be anything but peaceful. It was as if they had used up all of Tyche's favor while passing through the crossroads, and now it was her sister Beshaba's turn to bless the poor Flaming Fist squad.

The sudden attack came from a group of cunning hobgoblins. The brutes had ambushed them in the jungle to the right of the road, their tracks well concealed by the dense undergrowth. Since it wasn't a forest of towering trees, the Flaming Fist scouts had also let their guard down somewhat.

What shattered the peace was a series of arrows flying through the air with shrill cries. Their arrowheads were colder than the northern wind, tearing through the air and crossing the distance from the jungle to the Coast Road in an instant before plunging into the bodies of unlucky Flaming Fist soldiers.

"Enemy attack, right side!" Though caught by surprise, the Flaming Fist soldiers were battle-hardened and did not panic. They quickly halted the column and formed a defensive line in the direction of the ambush, using the wagons as cover.

However, these attackers were not the rabble they had encountered before. Never mind the endless but clearly staggered volleys of arrows—the hobgoblin warriors charging forward were actually maintaining a rough formation. It was far from neat and uniform, but still enough to make people look at them differently.

"Careful! They're not ordinary goblin bandits. That's a hobgoblin warband!" Skar quickly warned his companions after recognizing the enemy.

Meanwhile, within the ranks of the Hobgoblin Warband, its leader, Barok, had just orchestrated a classic ambush. The first rain of arrows had achieved excellent results, costing the humans at least five fighters. Though the following arrows failed to inflict further casualties, they still suppressed the enemy's counterattack.

These humans reacted so quickly. Is this really an ordinary merchant caravan? Barok wondered.

But when he saw his little underlings' surging morale and eager expressions, he couldn't help setting those doubts aside. That's right. We're a hobgoblin warband.

Unlike his goblin relatives, who were little more than beggar-bandits, the Hobgoblin Warband was a genuine militarized organization. Whether in discipline, combat skill, or courage, they were far superior to those useless relatives.

Barok no longer hesitated. He drew the broadsword from his waist. "Charge with me!"

The human warriors were still struggling beneath the rain of arrows and had no way to effectively suppress the charge. Victory and glory were within reach today!

So, what was their Archmage Zhang doing at this moment?

The moment the ambush began, Zhang Yuan smoothly hid himself on the left side of a wagon and used it as cover while casting Mage Armor on himself.

Then, just as the enraged dwarf Bard and the burly Minsc were preparing to counterattack, he called out to them.

"I'm preparing a spell. Guard me."

There was no need for many words. Along the way, the three of them had developed an unspoken understanding as a little group.

Under their protection, the auto-chess piece in Zhang Yuan's hand made its debut in the world of Faerûn.

"Facio, Voco, Ferre! (I create, I call, weapon!)"

As the incantation ended, a round, entirely stone golem appeared alongside a glasslike flower bud as it bloomed. When the bud opened to reveal the tiny figure inside, it faded away like a soap bubble.

Looking at the Little Stone he had summoned with his own hands, Zhang Yuan felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. But since they were on a battlefield, he could only suppress those emotions for the moment.

Bard and Minsc were not particularly surprised by the stone golem joining their group. A mage summoning a stone elemental was standard practice, wasn't it? As two complete magic illiterates, they naturally had no idea what it meant.

Just as the enemy launched its charge and gradually drew near their formation, the Flaming Fist mercenaries could only hold their ground passively because they feared the enemy's ranged firepower.

Seeing this, someone suddenly had a rather wicked idea. He watched the hobgoblins' advancing footsteps while beginning to channel the spell he was about to release.

"Cupio, Virtus, Licet! (What I desire shall be granted in full!)"

The arcane radiance vanished from his hands, and it seemed as though nothing had happened. Just as the two protectors covering him exchanged bewildered looks, an invisible force suddenly spread through the charging hobgoblin ranks like an ultrasonic wave.

I, Barok, will lead the charge!

The position of leader in the Hobgoblin Warband had never been won through flashy tricks. There was only one word for it: fight.

Barok was the strongest and most capable fighter in the entire warband.

Although they understood some simple tactics, advanced strategies—such as remaining in the center to direct the battle, or the idea that a commander should oversee the entire field rather than personally risk himself—were far too complicated for them.

The boss was supposed to lead the charge. Otherwise, how could he command respect? Barok didn't even know how to write the word "cowardice"!

Of course, as an illiterate, he couldn't write any other words either.

That didn't matter. The human merchant caravan, forced to defend passively, was like a thin-shelled walnut. A light strike would crack it open and reveal the delicious morsel inside.

What would they take? Food and supplies, of course. And if there was no food, then what? Idiots! Weren't those humans food?

Still lost in his fantasies, Barok easily dodged several stray arrows flying toward him. Just as he was about to accelerate into the enemy formation, his head suddenly spun. It felt as though he hadn't slept all night and had just reached the bedside. A powerful wave of drowsiness nearly paralyzed his mind.

However, he, Barok, was the strongest warrior of all. How could he fall asleep on the battlefield? I have to charge, charge! "Brats, charge with me!"

The passionate battle cry he had expected never came. Barok glanced from the corner of his eye and was stunned to see that, aside from a few trusted followers staggering along behind him, the rest of his twenty or so subordinates had all collapsed on the ground and were snoring soundly.

Barok was truly shocked. I'm leading the charge, and you little brats are burying your heads in sleep?

Furious, Barok had no time to worry about anything else. He rushed to the sleeping hobgoblins and kicked them violently, trying to wake the lazy louts.

The Flaming Fist soldiers, who had been standing ready for close combat with the hobgoblins, were overjoyed.

They had expected a hard battle. The enemy Hobgoblin Warband looked anything but weak, and a full charge while its morale was high would have inflicted terrible losses even if their own defensive line had not collapsed.

Who could have expected that the seemingly well-trained enemy would falter halfway through its charge? A whole group of hobgoblins seemed to have been overcome by sleep, lying down on the ground with the sky as their canopy and the earth as their mat.

Seeing the enemy leader stuck halfway between advance and retreat, utterly flustered and helpless, Skar knew that an opportunity like this would vanish in an instant. He no longer hesitated and decisively gave the order:

"Flaming Fist soldiers, watch for arrows! Everyone, charge!"

Drawing a bow and firing arrows wasn't as simple as it was in novels and games. After several volleys, the hobgoblin archers were utterly exhausted, and the aching in their wrists no longer allowed them to maintain high-intensity fire.

At that moment, their own assault force had actually gone to sleep on the battlefield. Even with the human soldiers about to kill them, they still refused to get out of bed.

??? The hobgoblin archers had ten thousand curses to hurl, but there was no time. If they didn't run now, it would truly be too late. The melee squad, sleeping like dead pigs, had already been beheaded in their dreams and slept forever. The humans were coming for them.