"Hold the line!" shouted Maxime, sword in hand, keeping an impassive face with piercing eyes.
The orcs charged, brandishing crude but formidable weapons.
Garen, despite the fear knotting his stomach, brandished his sword with determination.
"What are you doing, rookie? Stay at the training center!"
A deafening voice came from behind Garen, the next moment he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He turned his head and saw a red-haired young man watching the orcs as if they were watching his prey.
"You're not backing out again?"
"Ah, yes of course!"
Garen and the other recruits were surrounded and protected by the experienced mercenaries.
With their ordinary physiques, they could get killed by the orcs in one fell swoop.