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Helliana, now safely distanced from the blast thanks to Thorgar\'s swift retreat, felt the shockwave pass over her. She shielded her eyes from the searing light, her heart aching with the knowledge of her father\'s sacrifice.

As the light faded and the battlefield fell silent, she looked back to see a massive, smoking crater where her father and the Hobgoblin Generals had stood.

Warchief Kargoth\'s final act had turned the tide of battle, eliminating the enemy\'s leadership and scattering their forces. The Orc warriors, inspired by their Warchief\'s ultimate sacrifice, have tears in their eyes as they retreated.

The battlefield lay in ruins, the aftermath of Warchief Kargoth\'s cataclysmic fury evident in the charred earth and the twisted, broken bodies strewn across the ground.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Where once there had been a seething mass of Hobgoblins, now there was only desolation.

The ranks of the Hobgoblin army had been decimated, their numbers drastically reduced by the sheer force of Kargoth\'s final attack.

Among the wreckage, King Kraggul staggered to his feet, his body battered and bloodied. He had barely escaped the blast, his quick reflexes and sheer luck sparing him from the worst of it.

But he was not unscathed. Deep gashes and burns marred his flesh, and pain radiated from every movement.

Yet, it was not the physical injuries that pained him the most; it was the loss of Generals Morzog and Drakthor, his trusted companions since childhood.

They had grown up together, escaped slavery together, and fought countless battles side by side. Their deaths left a gaping wound in his heart, a void that no amount of vengeance could fill.

"Damn you, Kargoth!" Kraggul roared, his voice a thunderous boom that echoed across the battlefield. His eyes, narrowed with rage, blazed with a fiery intensity as he scanned the horizon, seeking any sign of the fleeing Orcs.

He could still see the remnants of the Warchief\'s power lingering in the air, a testament to the ferocity of the final blow. He had underestimated Kargoth, not realizing the Warchief possessed such devastating skill.

"Hobgoblins, to me!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We ride and eliminate every last one of those Orcs!"

The surviving Hobgoblins, though battered and weary, rallied to their king\'s call. They gathered around Kraggul, their numbers reduced to a mere fraction of what they had been at the start of the battle.

General Vargash, the only remaining general, limped to his side, his face etched with pain and exhaustion. He too had suffered injuries, deep cuts, and burns that had sapped his strength.

Despite their wounds and the overwhelming sense of loss, the Hobgoblins\' resolve hardened. They had lost much in this battle, but their desire for vengeance burned hotter than ever.

Kraggul\'s rage fueled their own, and they were determined to avenge their fallen comrades no matter what.

"Your orders, my king?" Vargash asked, his voice strained.

"We pursue them," Kraggul replied, his voice a low growl. "We will not rest until every last Orc lies dead at our feet."

The Hobgoblins moved with grim determination, mounting their war-beasts and preparing for the hunt. Their forces had been decimated, reduced to a mere twenty thousand from the once-mighty horde.

The loss of their generals was a staggering blow, but they pressed on, driven by their unyielding hatred for the Orcs.

Kraggul mounted his own war-beast, a massive, snarling creature with scales like blackened steel. He could feel the beast\'s muscles ripple beneath him, its strength a reflection of his own indomitable will. He glanced at Vargash, noting the general\'s pained expression.

"Can you ride?" Kraggul asked, his tone softer but no less commanding.

Vargash nodded, though it was clear each movement caused him agony. "I will ride, my king. For our people."

Kraggul grunted in acknowledgment, then turned his gaze forward. The trail of the fleeing Orcs was clear, their retreat marked by the trampled ground and the blood of their fallen.

He spurred his beast onward, and the Hobgoblin army followed, a dark tide of vengeance sweeping across the plains.

The landscape around them was eerily silent, the aftermath of battle leaving a ghostly stillness in its wake.

As they rode, Kraggul\'s mind was consumed with thoughts of Gralnok, Morzog, and Drakthor. They had been more than generals to him; they had been brothers in arms, bound by shared history and bloodshed.

Their loss was a wound that would never fully heal. He knew this day would come, but surely didn\'t expect them to die fighting the Orcs.

Kraggul gritted his teeth. Was it because their race was inferior? If only they had the strength and build of the Orcs. Wouldn\'t they dominate all the planes then?

Kraggul shook his head. There was no time to lament their fate. He had already promised to make the Hobgoblins a fearsome race. He would make everyone submit to them and let them know they were neither weak nor inferior.

He would be the king who would pave the way for Hobgoblins to have a better future than being mere servants and slaves to powerful races.

In the distance, the outline of the retreating Orcs came into view. Kraggul\'s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the reins. The sight of them reignited his fury, and he urged his beast to greater speed.

The Hobgoblins, though weary, matched their king\'s pace, their desire for retribution lending them new strength. Continue your adventure at m|v-l\'e -NovelBin.net

"Faster!" Kraggul roared. "We will not let them escape! We will kill them all!"

The Hobgoblins surged forward, their mounts thundering across the plains. The gap between them and the Orcs began to close, the distance shrinking with each passing moment.

Kraggul could see the fear in the eyes of the fleeing Orcs, their desperation evident as they scrambled to maintain their lead.

As they drew closer, Kraggul raised his weapon, a massive halberd that gleamed with a malevolent light. "Die!" he shouted, his voice a rallying cry.

"DIE!" the Hobgoblins echoed, their voices a chorus of rage and grief.

Kraggul\'s heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and sorrow, his mind filled with memories of his fallen comrades. He would make the Orcs pay for their deaths, no matter the cost.

The first ranks of the Hobgoblins collided with the rear guard of the Orcs, and the battle was rejoined with renewed ferocity. Blades clashed, arrows flew, and the air was thick with the sounds of combat.

Kraggul fought at the forefront, his halberd cleaving through Orcs. Each strike was fueled by his rage, each kill a tribute to his fallen friends.

Vargash fought by his side, his spells weaving through the melee. Despite his injuries, the general\'s resolve was unbreakable, his loyalty to King Kraggul and their shared cause driving him forward.

The Orcs, though outnumbered and weary, fought with a desperation born of survival. They knew that retreat was their only chance, and they fought fiercely to protect their kin.

But the Hobgoblins were relentless, their fury an unstoppable force that pressed the Orcs back with each passing moment.

Kraggul\'s eyes locked onto Helliana, the daughter of Kargoth, as she fought valiantly amidst her retreating warriors. His rage intensified at the sight of her, the last remaining link to the Warchief who had taken so much from him.

"She is mine," Kraggul growled, pushing through the fray with single-minded determination to kill her.

Helliana sensed the imminent threat, and turned to face Kraggul, her eyes filled with anger and sorrow.

"Kargoth!" she hissed through gritted teeth, but Thorgar warned her.

"Don\'t, General! Focus on escaping! Remember the Warchief and the others\' sacrifice!"

General Helliana contained her fury and burning desire for revenge. She had already disobeyed her father, which had cost Amber and her father\'s lives.

She couldn\'t die now, or all their sacrifices would be in vain.

Sensing that they couldn\'t lose Kraggul and the Hobgoblins, Thorgar made a fateful decision. He would split their forces, stopping the pursuers while convincing Helliana to escape.

The night was thick with the scent of dry earth and the distant echoes of battle. The Hobgoblin troops, weary but resolute, moved through the wasteland, their breaths ragged and eyes wide with the strain of relentless pursuit.

Thorgar could feel the enemy closing in. He turned to General Helliana, her face a mask of rage and grief, her eyes burning with an unquenchable fire.

"General," he said, his voice a low, urgent growl. "We can\'t lose the Hobgoblins like this. We need to split. I\'ll hold them off while you escape."

Helliana\'s eyes widened, her anger momentarily flickering with uncertainty. "General Thorgar, not you too. We\'ve already lost too much. I can\'t lose you too right now."

Thorgar gripped her shoulder, his eyes fierce. "Listen to me, General. You\'re the last hope we have. If you die here, everything we\'ve fought for dies with you. Your father\'s sacrifice, everyone\'s life, all in vain. You need to live to honor them.

You need to live to led our people."

Helliana\'s jaw clenched, the words cutting deep. She nodded reluctantly, swallowing her fury. "You better not die, Thorgar. Or I\'ll drag you back from hell just to kill you myself."

Thorgar allowed a grim smile. "Wouldn\'t expect anything less from you, General Helliana."

He then turned to his troops, his voice rising with commanding authority. "Alright, listen up! We\'re splitting forces. My troops and I will stay behind and buy you time. The rest of you follow General Helliana and protect her with your lives. She is our future!"

The Orcs nodded and set off, their pace accelerating under Helliana\'s command. Thorgar, alongside the remnants of their weary forces, watched them vanish into the shadowy hills, his heart weighed down yet his resolve solid as iron.

Drawing his weapon with a steely determination, he turned to face the approaching Hobgoblins. The night was his battlefield, a canvas of darkness where his fury would paint its story. He vowed to fight until his last breath, determined to safeguard Helliana and secure the future of the Orcs.