Chapter 535
Their eyes, though bloodshot and rimmed with fatigue, widened as they took in their approaching comrades. The sight of fellow ratfolk in new armor was an anomaly, a stark contrast to their own battered, stained hides. If only the ceaseless roar of battle allowed for conversation, questions would have erupted: What happened? Where did that armor come from?
But there was no time, no space for words. The overwhelming need to survive, to simply fall back and rest, drove them onward. They retreated, carrying with them the silent hope that one day they would get answers, or perhaps, that a similar, miraculous surprise awaited them back at the camp.
Meanwhile, on a rugged hill overlooking the chaotic ballet of battle, a solitary goblin mage, Snivel, moved with a surprising blend of frantic energy and precise calculation. He wasn’t equipped for direct combat, his frame slight beneath robes embroidered with arcane symbols, but his role was just as crucial. Occasionally, a quick, almost imperceptible flick of his wrist would send a minor ward shimmering into existence around a sensitive piece of equipment, or a gust of wind would subtly clear the dust from a lens. He was setting up a series of intricate arcane devices: polished brass focusing arrays, glowing crystal resonators, and delicate runic matrices that hummed with latent power.
Snivel paused, his pointed ears swiveling, before he reached for a slim, brass-bound telescopic scope. His single, unblinking eye, a milky white contrast to his green skin, peered through the lens. The image resolved: amidst the swirling dust and clashing forms, he saw them – the Ratmen, transformed and empowered, tearing through the demonic ranks. A grim satisfaction touched his lips. They had arrived.
He pulled back from the scope, scanning his meticulous setup. Every crystal aligned, every rune energized. Placing a three-fingered hand to his ear, where a small, glowing earpiece was nestled, he spoke into it, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "I am ready and set to go."
Back in his makeshift command center, a spartan room devoid of comforts, Rattan paced. Sleep has long been something foreign to him The cube, now restored to its original, luminous form, floated in the center of the room. It projected a detailed hologram of their world, a miniature, swirling orb of familiar landscapes and territories.
Tiny pinpricks of light flickered across the holographic map, appearing and disappearing with calculated precision. Each light represented a hidden unit, a prepared position, a ready signal from his people. They were in place, their silent affirmation echoing through the room.
"For the greater good," Rattan murmured, the words a low, guttural promise spoken to no one but himself. His eyes, usually filled with weary calculation, now held a fierce, unwavering resolve. With a decisive gesture, he uttered the command: "Activate the cams."
Across the empire, in hidden rooftops and concealed tunnels, the individual lights on Rattan’s holographic map flared into a steady glow. Each marked a goblin mage, hands poised over intricate arcane arrays. On the windswept hill, the lanky mage with spectacles focused, his fingers dancing over the activation runes of his own setup. A barely perceptible shimmer of energy pulsed outwards from his station, followed by similar pulses from hundreds of other hidden locations.
Suddenly, within countless homes, taverns, and town squares across the Imperial lands, the scrying pools and magical mirrors that normally hummed with trivial gossip or flickering entertainment erupted into a chaotic frenzy. Static danced across their surfaces, images warped and stretched, then snapped into stark, terrifying clarity.
It was still early morning, and many goblins, just beginning their day, had idly glanced at these ubiquitous magical mirrors, typically used for Imperial propaganda or local news. Now, they found themselves rooted in place, their breath catching in their throats. What was displayed before them was something never seen in all their lives, a nightmare brought to their very doorsteps.