Chapter 54: Battle of Zaltarion Plains (Part 2)

"Ah!" 

"Roar!" 

"Damn!" 

The sound of bones breaking echoed in the chaos.

In an instant, the knights charged in, their sharp steel lances piercing into the ranks of the orcs. 

The screeching of metal against flesh, the pitiful howls of the dying, and the grating sound of bones snapping painted a gruesome picture of the battle's brutality.

"Stop them!" Onavir, just breaking free from the tornado's grip, no longer looked as majestic as before. 

His thick armor was riddled with slashes from wind blades, and blood seeped from the wounds. Though his appearance seemed grim, the injuries were superficial, mostly flesh wounds.

"Break through them!" Rynar spurred his horse and shouted.

The heavy hooves of the warhorses trampled the ragged orcs without mercy, cutting through them like a hot knife through butter. 

The densely packed orcs were no match for the knights' momentum, their thunderous charge drowned out the clamor of the orcish horde. 

Orcs were skewered by lances and trampled underfoot, but their numbers continued to swell, surrounding the knights.

"Don't get surrounded! We can't lose our speed!" Reynard yelled as he swung his lance, knocking back orcs left and right.

"Flank them!" Rynar shouted, turning his horse and leading the knights to the side for another strike.

...

"The orcs are approaching! Everyone, prepare!" Vanervi watched the advancing orc army with calm eyes. He raised his hand, signaling the ranged units to ready their weapons.

"Loose!" With a wave of Vanervi's hand, a storm of arrows rained down from the sky. Hundreds of steel-tipped arrows fell upon the orcs, cutting down their vanguard in an instant.

...

"My King! The orcs are attacking the infantry!" 

Reynard glanced back and saw that the orcs had given up on engaging the highly mobile cavalry and were now focusing on surrounding the infantry.

"Where's Caslow?" Rynar looked up, realizing the dragon was no longer visible in the sky.

"My King, we need to disrupt the orcs' assault! Our army won't hold for long!" Reynard urged.

...

"Kalador, hold on!" Caslow was now far from the battlefield, tending to Kalador, whose abdomen had been pierced by an armor-piercing arrow.

"Hey, you're lucky!" Caslow chuckled, gripping the arrow and yanking it out with a swift motion, causing a spray of dragon blood.

"Damn it! An enchanted armor-piercing arrow!" Caslow cursed as he examined the arrow before snapping it in half. 

Thanks to the dragon's natural resilience, the wound would heal soon. 

After applying a salve to the injury, Caslow climbed back onto the saddle, and with a flap of the dragon's wings, they soared back into the sky.

"Caslow's back!" Reynard called out as the dragon reappeared in the distance.

"Whshhh!" A row of orcs, just about to reach the infantry, was instantly cut down by a razor-sharp wind blade.

"Charge back! For our brothers!" Rynar gritted his teeth as he saw the flames of their combat aura flicker and weaken. 

The previous charge had killed hundreds of orcs, but the relentless attacks had drained the knights' energy to dangerous levels.

...

"Hold the line!" Vanervi's palms were slick with sweat as he watched the orcs drawing closer, the arrow storm barely slowing them down. 

He prayed that the shield wall could withstand the upcoming assault.

"Heavy swords, no edge!" The Dunwenian Swordsmen bellowed as one, activating their skill. Blazing auras enveloped their swords, forming massive, five-meter-long pillars of energy.

"Boom!" Through the gaps in the shields, the heavy swordsmen swung their glowing blades, smashing down with immense force.

"Crack!" 

"Snap!" 

The sickening sound of bones shattering echoed as the orcs in the front were pulverized by the Dunwenian swordsmen. 

Their skill transformed their sharp blades into searing pillars of energy that were especially effective in penetrating armor and inflicting internal damage.

"Crash!" 

As more orcs surged forward, stepping over the twisted corpses of their kin, the Dunwenian Swordsmen raised their tower shields. 

The blazing aura carved intricate patterns into the steel, and the swordsmen stepped forward in unison, shoving their massive shields into the orcs with brutal force.

"That's savage!" Vanervi stared in horror as the orcs were literally smashed to pieces—exploding from the sheer force of the impact.

"Keep shooting! Don't stop your attack!" Vanervi shouted, brandishing his burning Manikati to rally his troops.

While the Dunwenian Swordsmen defended with relative ease, the 400 light infantry stationed on the flanks were struggling. 

They braced their wooden shields desperately, holding off the ferocious orcs. 

The orcish assault repeatedly deformed their formation, but through sheer willpower, the infantry reformed their shield wall again and again. 

The battered surface of their shields was a testament to the immense pressure they faced.

"Kill!" 

Spears thrust through the gaps between the shields, their sharp points piercing through the orcs' leather armor and flesh. 

Each spear was followed by a twist, and another orc fell dead before the wall.

"For the glory of the knights!" 

The Zaltarion Royal Guard Paladins, under Reynard's command, darted in and out of the orcs' flanks, biting away at them with swift and deadly strikes. 

They harassed the orc army, never lingering long enough to be surrounded.

"We still don't have enough soldiers..." Rynar sighed as he looked at the infantry, now completely encircled. 

Their aura was nearly depleted, and a deeper charge into the orcs would result in their first casualty among the knights.

"Caslow's being pinned down..." Reynard glanced up at the dragon, who was cautiously circling in the air, wary of Onavir's deadly arrows. 

Caslow couldn't risk unleashing the dragon's full power for fear of hitting his own troops. 

The close-quarters battle below made it impossible to use large-scale dragon magic without disastrous consequences.

"Hold the line!" Vanervi, gripping his flaming Manikati, cleaved an orc that had broken through the light infantry's shields. He quickly pulled up a fallen soldier.

"Fall back, kid! We need a replacement!" Vanervi ordered the wounded soldier to retreat after seeing the blood-soaked bandage on his shoulder.

"Ah!" An orcish sword plunged into the chest of an exposed light infantryman, and the first death of the day was upon them.

"Bang!" A quick-thinking Battanian archer drew his sword and finished off the orc, only to have another one, wielding a battle axe, swing at him.

"Clang!" The archer's shield absorbed the blow, but the dented steel left him shaken.

"Damn it! The elite orcs are here!" The archer shouted in alarm as he saw the heavily armored orcs charging.

"Swish!"

Vanervi's Manikati sliced through the air, cleaving the overzealous orc in two. The air smelled of scorched flesh.

"Hold them back!" Vanervi roared.

...

"Volley fire!" With their aura depleted, Rynar could only lead the knights in a mounted archery attack, circling the orcs. After some training, the knights' archery skills had become... passable.

"Thwang!" Rynar's bowstring twanged, and an orc fell with an arrow in its throat.

"My King, we need to charge again!" Reynard urged, seeing the infantry shield wall on the verge of collapse.

...

Vanervi was facing his greatest challenge yet.

The Dunwenian Swordsmen suddenly noticed the orcs in front of them retreating. As they peered through the slits of their helmets in confusion, a deafening roar shook the battlefield.

"Bang!" 

The sound echoed across the plains, causing even Rynar and his knights to pause. 

Onavir, clad in heavy armor, stormed forward, his war hammer glowing with energy as he unleashed his Thunderstrike. 

His hammer crashed into the shield wall of the Dunwenian Swordsmen, lifting them into the air. Dozens of swordsmen were thrown back, writhing in pain on the ground.

Despite the heavy damage, the shield wall skill had absorbed most of the impact, sparing their lives, though the Dunwenian swordsmen were grievously wounded by the blow of a fifth-tier orc warlord.

"A warlord!" Vanervi's eyes narrowed as the shield wall was finally breached. To restore it, the warlord had to be dealt with.

"For the Goddess of Nature!" Vanervi, gripping his elven holy sword Manikati, leaped high into the air. With the fury of the elves burning in his heart, his blade descended like a comet.

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