My planet is infested with Goblins

The alarm horns continued sounding across the Caldris camp while Colonel Alaric Veyne stepped out of the command tent with his sword already drawn.

What had been an exhausted but organized camp only moments earlier was turning into confusion. Soldiers who had been sleeping near their shields were pulling on armor in the dark.

Others were climbing out of wagons where they had been resting beside wounded companions.

Men who had spent the previous hour preparing for retreat were now trying to remember where their original companies had been assigned before supplies were moved and units reorganized.

The army had planned to leave quietly before dawn. Instead, hundreds of exhausted soldiers were being forced to rebuild a battlefield formation while the enemy was already approaching.

"Infantry to the eastern perimeter," Alaric shouted. "Crossbowmen behind them. Cavalry stays with the horses until ordered. Nobody moves west unless I give the command."

Officers repeated the orders while messengers ran through the camp. Captain Joren Bale had already disappeared toward the eastern side, gathering the strongest infantry companies before panic could spread.

Alaric could hear sergeants shouting unit names, trying to pull men together from groups that had been mixed during the retreat preparations. The wounded complicated everything.

Many had already been loaded into wagons, while ammunition and supplies had been shifted to make room for them. Crossbow companies no longer knew exactly where their spare bolts were stored, and several cavalry horses had been moved closer to the road in preparation for an early departure.

A mounted scout emerged from the northern darkness at full speed.

"They have reached the outer sentries, Colonel."

"How many?"

"Too many to count. Light armed troops first. More soldiers follows behind them."

"Tell the northern watch to fall back toward the camp. They are not to die protecting open ground."

The scout turned immediately.

Before he disappeared, the sound of fighting reached them from the north. Steel struck steel somewhere beyond the nearest tents, followed by shouting and the sharp crack of crossbows. The goblins had already made contact.

Alaric looked toward the eastern side.

A second attack began moments later.

The darkness beyond the camp suddenly erupted with movement as the first Viridian ranged troops fired toward the forming Caldris line.

Projectiles passed over tents and wagons, striking wherever men had gathered near the light of campfires. One soldier collapsed beside Alaric after a bolt struck beneath his shoulder. Another projectile hit a horse farther back, sending the animal screaming against its tether.

"Put out the eastern fires," Alaric ordered. Don’t bother the other areas that is on fire . Only those behind the line."

Soldiers kicked dirt over flames or overturned water buckets. The camp grew darker almost immediately, but the goblins lost some of the clear targets provided by the firelight.

The cost became obvious.

Humans struggled to recognize one another beyond short distances. Officers shouted louder, and messengers nearly collided while moving between tents.

Joren appeared through the darkness.

"I have almost three hundred forming east."

"Almost?"

"Half the companies are scattered. Some men were assigned to the wagons. Others were helping the wounded."

"Use whoever you have. Build the line first and sort companies later."

Joren nodded.

"We can use the wagons as obstacles."

"Do it. Keep the spears behind them where possible."

Joren disappeared again.

The first major Viridian infantry force reached the eastern perimeter before the Caldris formation was completely ready.

Goblins emerged from the darkness in organized groups rather than a single charging mass. Their ranged fire slowed as infantry closed, allowing the humans to finally see their shapes moving between the remaining fires.

Joren’s improvised line held.

Long spears thrust from behind carts, stacked crates, and hastily positioned shields. The first goblins reaching the perimeter were struck before their shorter weapons could reach the humans.

Several fell immediately, while others crowded behind shields and tried to force openings between the obstacles.

"Hold here," Joren shouted. "They still have to come through the spears."

The Caldris soldiers responded. Men who had been barely awake minutes earlier remembered their training. Spears drove forward in coordinated thrusts. Crossbowmen fired from behind the infantry. For a few minutes, the eastern line resembled the formation that had survived the afternoon battle.

The first Viridian assault was repelled.

A cheer rose among the humans.

Alaric refused to join these celebrations.

Something was wrong.

The goblins attacking the perimeter were moving too quickly.

The formations were too clean.

Their soldiers did not show the exhaustion Alaric had seen near sunset.

He watched another unit advance from the darkness, shields aligned while ranged troops moved behind it.

Joren saw it too when he returned to receive additional orders.

"Those are fresh soldiers."

Alaric nodded.

"They received reinforcements."

The realization changed everything.

During the afternoon, the goblins had suffered heavily enough that Alaric believed another daylight battle might hurt both armies almost equally. Now Viridian was sending soldiers who had not fought at all against men already carrying a day’s exhaustion.

"How many?" Joren asked.

"No idea."

Another volley landed across the camp before Alaric could answer. A projectile struck one of the supply wagons. Another killed a messenger running toward the northern side. Several crossbowmen behind the eastern line fell when they exposed themselves to fire.

Alaric looked around at the campfires.

"More fires out. Leave the western ones burning."

Joren understood.

"You want them seeing the wrong side."

"I want our men alive."

The darkness deepened further.

To the north, shouting grew louder.

Alaric sent a runner for the cavalry commander. The man arrived several minutes later, breathing heavily.

"I cannot form a proper mounted line."

"Why?"

"They are already at the horse lines."

Alaric’s expression tightened.

Viridian light infantry had reached the northern edge of the camp faster than expected. Instead of attacking the infantry directly, goblin soldiers were striking horses, cutting tethers, and firing into groups of riders trying to organize.

"We have maybe thirty mounted and ready," the cavalry commander continued. "The rest are scattered or trying to control the horses."

"Do not charge."

The man looked frustrated.

"Colonel, if I can gather another twenty—"

"You will not gather them before the goblins are among you. Use the mounted men as messengers and mobile reserve. Everyone else fights on foot."

The cavalry commander hesitated, then saluted.

Alaric watched him leave and understood what Viridian had done. During the afternoon battle, Caldris cavalry had been one of the few weapons capable of forcing the goblin lines to react immediately. Tonight, the cavalry was being neutralized before it could become cavalry at all.

A messenger arrived from Joren.

"The eastern line is holding, but the northern perimeter is falling back."

"How far?"

"Two rows of tents already lost."

Alaric looked toward the camp layout.

Defending every tent was impossible.

"Tell them to be more compact. New northern line along the supply wagons. Do not try to retake anything outside it."

He called another officer.

"Start forming a central reserve around the wounded wagons. Anyone who can still fight but is not assigned elsewhere goes there."

The officer saluted and moved.

The plan was changing from defending the camp to preserving the army.

Viridian pressure continued from several directions. One assault hit the eastern line hard enough to force several human soldiers backward, then withdrew before becoming trapped against the spears. Moments later, a northern goblin formation attacked the new defensive position around the wagons. Ranged fire continued falling into the camp, forcing Caldris soldiers to remain behind shields whenever possible.

Every time Alaric moved men toward one threat, another appeared.

A runner reached him from the southern side.

"Goblins near the stream."

"How many?"

"Small groups. They are testing the crossings."

"Hold them with what you have. Do not reinforce unless they commit more."

The messenger left.

Alaric looked toward the center of the camp and saw what worried him most. Soldiers from different units were becoming mixed together.

A man from First Company stood beside someone from a cavalry support unit.

Crossbowmen were fighting with infantry whose officers they did not know. Commands had to be shouted repeatedly because unit signals no longer matched the groups receiving them.

One section near the northern wagons suddenly began withdrawing.

Alaric could not tell why.

"They were not ordered back," he said.

A lieutenant beside him looked toward the movement.

"They may think the eastern line is retreating."

"It is not."

Alaric immediately sent two messengers north.

"Stop them. Tell them the center is holding."

Minutes later, Joren appeared among the retreating soldiers. Alaric could hear his voice even through the noise.

"Turn around. Nobody ordered you west. Find a shield and get back into the line."

The men hesitated, then began reorganizing.

Joren personally pushed them back toward the northern defense.

The crisis passed, but only barely.

Alaric realized how close they were to losing control. During daylight, a mistaken movement could be seen and corrected across the formation. At night, twenty men stepping backward could convince another fifty that a retreat had begun.

The Viridian commanders seemed to understand that perfectly.

Another northern attack struck before Joren had fully restored the line.

Fresh goblin light infantry rushed the weakened section while ranged troops targeted the officers standing behind it. One bolt struck a Caldris lieutenant in the throat. Another officer fell moments later.

Without visible command, the formation began bending inward.

Joren rushed toward the gap with several dozen infantry.

"Close it. Shields forward."

The humans managed to stop the goblins from pouring completely through, but they could not recover the original ground. The northern line had been pushed closer to the center.

At the same time, the eastern assault intensified.

Fresh Viridian infantry pressed against Joren’s original defensive position. Human spears continued killing goblins, but the exhausted soldiers could no longer maintain the same rhythm they had during the afternoon. Thrusts became slower. Shields sagged after repeated impacts. Some men fought with bandages beneath their armor.

The goblins kept coming.

Systematically.

The first human formation gave up several steps.

Then several more.

A company officer tried to stop them.

"Hold the wagons. Hold here."

A Viridian projectile struck him before he could finish.

Alaric saw the retreat spreading and immediately sent runners.

"Second line around the center. Make them reform behind the wagons."

He looked north.

Joren’s position was bending too.

The camp no longer contained one Caldris battle line. It contained separate groups fighting their own battles in darkness. Crossbowmen defended wounded wagons. Dismounted cavalrymen fought near panicked horses. Infantry companies held wherever officers could gather enough men to create a wall of shields.

Viridian had achieved exactly what its midnight attack was meant to achieve.

The humans were no longer fighting as one army.

Another messenger stumbled toward Alaric from the northern side.

"Colonel, the northern line cannot hold its position. They are falling back toward the center."

Before Alaric could answer, a second officer arrived from the east.

"Part of Third Company is retreating without orders. Their captain is wounded, and we cannot get them back into place."

Alaric looked toward the darkness beyond them.

Men from two different sections were moving toward the center now. Some still faced the enemy and withdrew carefully, while others had begun turning their backs entirely.

An orderly withdrawal could still become a retreat.

A retreat could still become a rout.

Alaric raised his sword and shouted toward every officer within hearing distance.

"Form again around the wagons. Nobody runs west. Build the line here."

Joren’s voice answered somewhere in the northern darkness, ordering soldiers back into formation.

Yet the sound of retreating boots continued.

Fresh Viridian troops were already moving through the abandoned outer tents, and more Caldris soldiers were falling toward the center.

For the first time since Alaric had marched east, he could see parts of his army beginning to collapse.

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