Chapter Forty-Four: Battle

Lenart floated in mid air, a powerful shockwave rupturing from the collision from his attack and the counter play from the orc. Still five-hundred meters away from the human wall, Lenart had just enough space to exert his full power.

"Oh god of weather, heed my call, douse me in thy golden cloud." Lenart chanted.

The next second Lenart's skin started evaporating and a thin surface of clouds formed around his body, then it moved to his back, forming a very small, white wing of clouds. He looked hideous, missing a lot of skin where it counted, his main hand was completely skinless, yet it still clenched his spear with great power.

The second Lenart had spent chanting and transforming, the orc was already on him. An ax was quickly descending on his hideous form, ready to cleave him in two. But before the ax could kill him, Lenart flapped his small wing and was launched backwards, just like the orc. The flap had generated a burst of sharp and powerful wind, which focused on the orc, but it still hurt Lenart.

The orc stumbled back and fell, several cuts were bleeding profusely and one of its arms was almost severed. Before either party could act, a third party got involved, announcing its presence by shooting an arrow through the injured orcs head.

Lenart grunted, the form he was in took a lot of energy and was very painful. He had to make it count, because he would soon be out of commission, or back to normal.

The exchange didn't take more than ten seconds, but in that short time the orcs had moved two hundred meters. Lenart sighed and got to work, he flapped his wing and pointed his spear forward, the next second he was covered in slimy red blood, as one of the orcs gained a new hole in their torso and fell over. The surrounding orcs noticed this and turned their short spanned attention to him.

Stationed in the middle of the air, covered in blood like he was frozen in time, Lenart contemplated. But he was forcefully brought back to reality, as hundreds of arrows fell on him and the orcs. He had to dodge them, while monopolizing on the opportunity.

A thin sheet of clouds wrapped around Lenarts weapon, as he slashed horizontally, cutting five orcs in two. Then he screamed in pain and fell to the ground. The price of his acts was tremendous, but thanks to it he had killed four tier one orcs, something that would take him thirty minutes at least, yet he managed to accomplish it within seconds. The price however was a heavy one, as he was out of commission for at least five minutes.

The remaining orcs ignored the man and marched forward, more willing to kill hundreds of humans, than one meager little thing.

The barrage of arrows didn't stop and only grew heavier with the passing seconds. More and more bowmen regained their footing and could once more help attack from the backline.

Three hundred guards stood ready, waiting for the orcs, but once they reached the fifty meters margin, several hundred rushed forward, meeting the horde of orcs head on.

The first wave of humans received a warm welcome by the orcs, getting crushed by clubs, cut by swords and axes, or simply trampled by their weight. But some also managed to cut the legs of the orcs, each attack inflicting some sort of damage.

What the humans lacked in power, they made up with numbers and the twenty original were all part of the defense. Some sniping with a bow, others standing at the front, taking on an orc by themself, allowing another human to join and gang up on the orcs.

Despite their heroism, not everyone willingly rushed to their death. One man had lost his courage, as he was smeared in his brother's blood, as it splashed on him, when the orc smashed him to pieces with its club. While others went mad from it and attacked the orcs with no regards for their lives.

But even so, the twenty original weren't all powerful and soon one of them lost, his body thrown several meters away, ragdolling against the ground, leaving a trail of blood in his path. With a new opening the orc helped its friend and killed seven humans grouped up on a six meters tall orc. Together they completely obliterated the humans and marched forward, only to be shot down by Harold and another original twenty.

"Take this you monster!" one of the men yelled, suicide charging at the orc and managing to stab it in its legs, before he was trampled to death. But thanks to his valitent sacrifice the orc crouched and just in time, an arrow pierced its eye and five other guards rushed to take advantage of the situation.

A sword grazed the shin of the orc and a spear stuck into its forehead, another sword cut off its left ear and another spear went for its other eye. While the last sword was made by the strongest and somewhat managed to cut deep, slashing a full three centimeters into its skull.

The orc roared in rage and whaled its arms, accidently hitting one of the guards in his adobe, making him fly through the air and land of a spear that was stuck to the ground.

The man yelled in pain, as his last moments in life were spent in agony and hopelessness.

Yet the orc wasn't happy yet, it stood up and started slamming its arms here and there, hoping to kill another vermin for what they did to him, but they had already fled the scene, now waiting for an arrow to finish the orc off

"Hahaha, take that!" a guard exclaimed happily, as the orc fell, he had avenged his fallen comrades, but his happiness was short lived; a second later a giant boulder landed on him and crushed him. Splashing his friends in fresh blood.

They turned around slowly and saw something that made them tremble. In front of them a orc, nine meters tall towered over them and it said. "You take luxury kill my friends, I kill you friends!"