The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis crouched behind a crumbling stone wall, his eyes darting across the chaos of the goblin fortress. The fortress that had once been full of goblin chatter was now filled with the sounds of clashing steel, shouting voices, and the unmistakable cries of battle. He kept to the shadows, his heart pounding as he watched the battle unfold. His gaze moved across the battlefield, taking in the sight of the human forces surging forward in waves, an unstoppable force of organization and might.

The humans were relentless, and Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and pride. He had provided them with detailed information about the fortress's weaknesses, and now, he could see how they were putting that knowledge to good use. Archers lined the edges of the fortress, arrows flying with precision as they targeted the goblin defensive points. Cavalry units charged in, breaking through the goblin ranks like they were nothing more than a wall of reeds. Infantry units systematically pushed forward, clearing the path and cutting down any goblin foolish enough to stand in their way.

And then there were the magicians, led by Serelith. Mikhailis could see her at the front, her purple hair flowing as she commanded her magic with a skill that was almost frightening. Black ice and fire tore through the goblin defenses, leaving them disoriented and scattered. Serelith's calm demeanor and controlled power stood in stark contrast to the chaos around her, her hands moving in practiced gestures as she wove her spells. Mikhailis had to admit, despite her being, well, Serelith, she was undeniably effective.

They're dismantling this fortress like it's nothing, he thought, shaking his head slightly.

It was impressive. Your next chapter awaits on empire

The humans moved with precision, every attack calculated, every movement coordinated. They weren't just fighting; they were executing a carefully planned strategy. Mikhailis watched as the archers aimed for specific points, taking down goblin guards on the walls, while the infantry units advanced in tight formations, their shields raised against incoming arrows. The cavalry swept in from the sides, their lances cutting through goblins, clearing a path for the infantry.

The goblins, on the other hand, were a mess. Poisoned from the dinner Mikhailis had prepared, they stumbled, sluggish and confused. Their movements were uncoordinated, their lines breaking under the relentless pressure of the human forces. Mikhailis could see the fear in their eyes, the confusion as they tried to understand why their bodies felt so heavy, why their strength was fading. It was almost pitiful—almost.

"That's what happens when you mess with the wrong kingdom," Mikhailis muttered under his breath, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Despite the overwhelming force of the human army, the goblins weren't giving up. He watched as the Goblin Apostle rallied the troops, his commanding presence pulling the goblins together. The champions moved to the front, their massive forms acting as shields for the weaker goblins. The shamans, despite their weakened state, began to chant, their dark magic swirling around them as they cast spells to bolster the morale of the goblins.

Mikhailis frowned, his eyes narrowing as he watched the shamans at work.

They're trying to heal them, keep them fighting.

He could see the goblins standing a little taller, their movements becoming slightly more coordinated. It wasn't enough to turn the tide of the battle, but it was enough to buy them time—and that was dangerous.

The Goblin Apostle stood in the center of the chaos, his massive form looming over the battlefield. His voice was a deep, guttural roar that seemed to resonate through the fortress, commanding the goblins to hold their ground. Mikhailis could see the effect it had on the goblins around him—their eyes widened, their grip on their weapons tightened, and they moved with renewed purpose.

This isn't good. They're regrouping.

Mikhailis shifted slightly, trying to get a better view of the battlefield. He had to admit, even poisoned, the goblins were still managing to put up a fight. They used the fortress terrain to their advantage, leading the human forces through narrow passageways, setting off traps that had been hidden in the walls and floors. The champions formed a front line, their massive axes and shields keeping the humans at bay, while the shamans continued their chants, casting curses and spells to hinder the human forces.

But the humans weren't deterred. Mikhailis watched as the archers focused their fire on the goblin archers, their arrows finding their marks with deadly precision. The infantry units, led by Earl Vaelis, pushed forward, their shields locked as they advanced in formation. The cavalry, under the command of Vyrelda, swept through the goblin lines, their lances breaking the goblin ranks and opening a path for the infantry.

Elowen was at the center of it all, her presence commanding as she led the charge. Mikhailis watched her, his heart swelling with pride. She moved with grace, her sword a blur as she cut through the goblins. Fire danced along her blade, her magic flowing seamlessly with her strikes. She was a force to be reckoned with, and Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as he watched her.

That's my Elowen... always incredible.

Serelith, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of destruction. Black ice and vines erupted from the ground at her command, tearing through the goblin defenses. Her expression was one of calm focus, her eyes never leaving her targets as she unleashed her magic. Mikhailis had to give her credit—for all her eccentricities, she was one of the most powerful magicians he had ever seen.

The human forces were pushing forward, inching closer to the center of the fortress. Mikhailis could see the determination in their movements, the way they fought with a single-minded focus. They were going to win—it was only a matter of time.

But then, the Goblin Apostle let out a sharp whistle, a sound that cut through the noise of the battle. Mikhailis's eyes widened as he saw the ground begin to shift, the earth beneath the human forces breaking apart. From the depths of the earth, a horde of TangleBeetles emerged, their massive, vine-covered bodies swarming the battlefield. The beetles, controlled by the remaining shamans, charged at the human lines, their powerful legs tearing through the infantry.

"Oh, come on!" Mikhailis muttered, his heart sinking. The TangleBeetles were massive, their bodies covered in thick, thorny vines that seemed to move on their own, lashing out at anything that came near. The human forces were thrown into disarray, their formation breaking as they tried to deal with the sudden onslaught.

The Goblin Apostle roared, his voice echoing through the fortress. Mikhailis watched as the goblins around him seemed to shake off the effects of the poison, their eyes widening with renewed fury. It was as if they had been given a sudden boost of adrenaline, their movements becoming faster, their strikes more powerful.

This is bad. Really bad.

Mikhailis's eyes darted across the battlefield, trying to assess the situation. The human forces were struggling to regroup, the TangleBeetles tearing through their lines. The goblins, their strength amplified by the Apostle's command, were pushing back, their eyes filled with a frenzied determination.

Mikhailis's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the chaos unfold. He needed to do something—anything—to help. His eyes scanned the battlefield, looking for an opening, a way to turn the tide back in the humans' favor. And then he saw it—something that made his blood run cold.

Some of the goblins that had fallen were beginning to rise. Their eyes were vacant, their movements unnatural. Mikhailis felt a chill run down his spine as he realized what was happening.

The lich... it's raising the dead.

He looked around, his eyes frantically searching for the lich. He knew that if the lich wasn't stopped, the human forces didn't stand a chance. The goblins would keep rising, their numbers replenished by the very bodies that had already fallen.

I've got to stop it. Somehow.

Mikhailis took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he tried to find an opening. The human forces were still fighting, their movements coordinated despite the chaos. The cavalry and infantry were working together, cutting down the TangleBeetles one by one, while the magicians, led by Serelith, unleashed a barrage of spells, weakening the massive creatures.

After what felt like an eternity, the beetles began to fall, their bodies littering the ground. The human forces seized the opportunity, pushing forward in a coordinated effort to engage the goblins in close combat. Mikhailis watched as the soldiers fought with renewed vigor, their eyes focused, their movements precise.

The path was opening—a clear path to the Goblin Apostle. Mikhailis could see Elowen, Vyrelda, Serelith, and Earl Vaelis pushing towards the Apostle, their eyes locked on their target. The human forces opened a path, creating a free-for-all zone where the leaders could face the Goblin Apostle and his four champion bodyguards.

This is it. The final showdown.

Mikhailis's eyes darted across the battlefield, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to stay out of sight, had to stay hidden. He wasn't strong enough to face the Goblin Apostle or the champions. He had done his part—now it was up to the others to finish the job.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that made his blood run cold. The lich, its skeletal form gliding through the chaos, its eyes locked on Elowen. Its hands were raised, dark magic swirling around them, the air around it crackling with power.

Mikhailis's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in horror.

"This is bad... really bad," he whispered, his mind racing. He couldn't let the lich reach Elowen. He had to stop it—no matter what.

He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he steeled himself.

Alright, Mikhailis. Time to be the hero. Again.