Chapter 112: The Master of the Battlefield

Chapter 112: The Master of the Battlefield

"Ladders! Remove the ladders first!"

"It's the shaman's magic! Keep your heads down!"

Kwaang!

The attacks thus far seemed like mere antics in comparison; Al-Ghurad's promised all-out assault was relentless. Orc chieftains who hadn't revealed themselves before now appeared in force, and the numbers of orc warriors and shaman pouring forth were staggering.

"Archers! Focus fire on the lancers!"

"Wizards! Provide firepower support at three o'clock!"

On the battlefield turned chaos, the mercenary Bilton, who had been hired as a guard, darted around with a pale complexion, responding mechanically to orders. "Stab!"

Using the spear he had been supplied with from the fortress, he stabbed an orc climbing the ladder.

While it would be great to pull the ladders down, the weight of the orcs who had already climbed made that an impossible task.

Bilton continued mechanically stabbing with his spear, even though he wished he had not come.

He had been regretting it for a few days now. He already had the contract drawn up, and running away would be considered desertion. He couldn't make the decision to flee.

Still, a few figures had taken the opportunity to desert. At first, Bilton had sneered at them, but now he regretted not following suit.

"Warriors are coming up!"

"Get, get the knight!"

Thump!

On one side, an orc warrior with spears embedded all over its body came climbing up, easily tossing aside soldiers. The unreal scene of heads exploding like watermelons with every swing of its heavy mace made it feel like a dream.

Before long, after the orc warrior had killed all the soldiers blocking its path, it approached Bilton with long strides.

"No, no!"

"Run!"

"Don't leave your post! If we all team up, we can defeat one warrior!"

The commander's shouts were audible, but the disheartened soldiers continued to dwindle in number.

Even Bilton, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, stood frozen in place. However, he couldn't muster the thought to escape.

Seeing this, the orc warrior accelerated suddenly and charged toward him.

"Now! Raise your spear upwards! Don't think of stabbing, think of blocking, and put your strength into your lower body!"

Clutching his supply spear tightly and standing like a statue, Bilton heard a voice that wasn't the commander's resounding in his ear.

Without realizing it, he followed the voice's instructions, raising his spear and bracing himself.

Thud!

Then, a tremendous shock hit him, and Bilton felt as if his entire body was breaking apart, tumbling backward.

'Am I going to die?'

For a moment, he let out a nervous chuckle, but then the voice spoke again, snapping him back to reality.

"Nicely done."

Turning his head, he saw the man who had told him to raise the spear now cradling his falling body.

"Ba-Barry Sanders."

"Look at what you accomplished."

Bilton gazed ahead and saw the orc warrior with a spear sticking out of its neck, writhing in agony, dying.

"Did I... kill the orc warrior?"

"The war isn't over yet."

The masked man stood Bilton upright and spoke.

The masked man was already drenched in blood, indicating how many orcs he had slain.

"It's not over yet. Hang on. We can definitely win this war."

With those words, Bilton watched the man run forward and out ahead of him, dazedly.

Would a flower blooming in the midst of despair be like that?

Though brief, the intense experience prompted Bilton to draw his own sword.

As the masked man said, the war wasn't over yet.

.

.

.

.

"It's endless."

The number of orcs was overwhelmingly large.

Even though their seemingly infinite numbers were exhausting, the frenzied actions of the many shamans turned even ordinary orcs into berserk warriors.

Even seeing orcs charging with foaming mouths, soldiers weren't exempt from despair.

Splat!

Crunch.

As soldiers struggled to handle a formidable warrior, another warrior had been taken down. Looking around, there were few sections of the wall left without ladders.

Though dozens of orcs fell with every spell cast by the wizards, the overall situation wasn't greatly affected.

'Still, it's not time yet.' Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)

He waited.

Just a bit longer, and then...

'But maybe I can speed things up.'

Crack!

Kwaang!

In the distance, the sounds of Luna's rampage reached his ears.

Given the sound's direction, it seemed she had gone out of the fortress to fight. So far, there was no sign of Al-Ghurad joining the battle.

After deciding on my plan, I quickly severed the necks of the orcs climbing up the fortress walls.

Then, I threw myself down, joining Luna, who was undoubtedly fighting far off.

"Sir Sanders!"

Urgent cries reached him, but he ignored them.

Landing gracefully on the ground, he felt the puzzled stares of the orcs fixed on him.

"This is bad."

While he had only marveled at Luna's skills when she was in action, now that she had left the battlefield, the empty space she left behind became all the more apparent.

The battle between Luna and Al-Ghurad was muffling the screams of the soldiers being slaughtered by the orcs, but the situation was deteriorating.

"Request reinforcements from the other gate!"

"Yes, understood."

Though he had already requested reinforcements a while ago, Phillion felt desperate and clung to any hope.

"Sir Phillion, the outer gate has been breached!"

Soon after, bad news reached them, causing Phillion to shout urgently.

"We must hold on as long as we can! Drop the prepared stones!"

The situation was becoming critical once again.

With no time left to command and a dire situation at hand, Phillion, too, drew his sword, following in his father's footsteps.

As Phillion descended from the watchtower, he realized just how dire the situation had become.

The southern gate had already been overrun by orcs, and now only a few desperate soldiers remained, sacrificing themselves to defend against the onslaught.

"We can't lose this! Our families are behind us!"

"We can't let these orcs defile this land! Defend it!"

Amidst their desperate cries, Phillion found himself feeling the surge of his own blood.

He was beginning to understand why his father had left the command post to fight on the front lines.

"We are the warriors of Endeavor!"

Phillion shouted.

"We, who were born and raised on Endeavor's land! We can't possibly lose to mere orcs! We will definitely defend this land, stained with blood and sweat!"

Phillion's cry resounded clearly through the battlefield, despite the clamor. The soldiers, raising their weary arms, shouted in unison, their spirits rekindled.

"We will defend it at all costs!"

"We are the 12th generation of Endeavor! Our ancestors' spirit lingers in this land, and we won't let it be taken by orcs!"

Once again, the soldiers' morale surged as their anthem of defiance echoed through the battlefield.

It was the ancient anthem of Endeavor Fortress.

As the anthem spread, soldiers fighting across the battlefield joined in, filling the air with the song of their homeland.

"Break their formation! Fight on! Endeavor!"

Perhaps due to the uplifting anthem, the tide of battle seemed to be turning slightly.

"Die!"

Joining forces with the soldiers, Phillion's sword pierced the neck of one of the Orc Warriors.

Just when they thought victory was within reach...

Quaang!

A collision sound unlike before rang out, almost shattering eardrums.

And at the end of that collisionwas a slender figure.

Thump!

That figure crashed into the wall. It was none other than Luna Pendragon.

"L-Luna Pendragon!"

Only now did those who were facing the Orc Lord's direction notice and turned their gaze, witnessing the bewildering sight of Al-Ghurad.

"Orc...Vigii..."

Behind Al-Ghurad's back, a massive orc-shaped figure composed of energy was taking shape.

This figure mimicked Al-Ghurad's movements, and its mere presence seemed suffocating, making anyone who looked at it feel overwhelmed.

"How... how do we beat something like that?"

"Luna Pendragon has been defeated too. It's over."

Some soldiers even dropped their weapons, sinking into despair.

Even Phillion was at a loss for words in the face of such a situation.

'This is an Aura Master... It's the end.'

The hope that had been reignited just moments ago was snuffed out as the formidable presence of the Aura Master, Al-Ghurad's true form, now revealed, left them with a sense of hopelessness.

Contrarily, the orcs' momentum continued to surge endlessly.

Witnessing Al-Ghurad's grand form, they pressed forward with even greater determination.

Kraha!

And just as the orcs were surging over the walls, an unexpected change occurred.

Kreuk?

Thunk!

The bodies that were thought to be dead suddenly grabbed the orcs' ankles.

Unprepared for this, the weak points of the attackers were being pierced by the cold, unyielding iron.

"Ah, ah..."

The soldiers of Endeavor were left speechless.

A chilling sensation seemed to spread.

As if arriving from another realm, the corpses were rising, one by one...

Always, someone was moving alongside the risen bodies.

"Who on earth..."

Phillion managed to force his unyielding lips to move.

The approaching figure at the south gate...

Quietly...

But chillingly...

Yet revealing an explosive savagery...

"From now on, this place..."

With each step he took, undead creatures emerged.

"I will take care of this."

The man's voice was resolute.