The orcs laughed, their deep, guttural voices echoing through the war-torn streets as they held their ground against the relentless assault of the human Ranked Pillars.
BRAHAHAHHAHAHA!
GRUHAHAHAHHAHA!
KYARUHUHUHUHU!
Bullets whizzed through the air, and the loud, thunderous BANG! BANG! BANG! of gunfire filled the atmosphere, but the orcs barely flinched.
Their thick hides and bone clubs absorbed the brunt of the attacks, and their confidence only seemed to grow with each failed human assault.
Volk stood amidst his horde, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the battlefield.
His heart was thumping so hard, not from the heat of battle, but from a growing time that was being wasted.
He could even hear the ticking clock in his mind.
Every second slipping away felt like sand through his fingers.
The system's countdown felt fast—forty minutes left, and still, they were no closer to victory.
His jaw clenched.