Chapter 580: Brutal War
In Blackstone Valley, the open lands before Avenderdan were littered with the charred corpses of orcs. Embers still burned, crackling, flames flickering with the wind.
Dwarves and elves stood vigil on the walls, gripping longbows and warhammers, silently awaiting the enemy.
"Comrades, alliesâ
At this moment, the fate of Avenderdan lies in our hands. This great war may even reshape the balance of the entire Faenso continent.
If we succeed, your deeds will go down in history!"
Eddâs voice was steady and powerful, ringing through the banner-filled battlements.
The dwarf king raised his warhammer, exuding a mighty aura: "For order and justice! Avenderdan shall never fall!"
"For order and justice!"
Dwarves and elves alike raised their weapons, shouting with thunderous force. Even the gold dragon atop the wall lifted its head and let out a light roar.
Just then, Rhea gripped her silver sword, gaze tense as she looked toward the distance, brow furrowing.
"That is..."
With her legendary paladin senses, she detected a faint tremor in the ground and the sound of chaos approaching.
She raised the crystal pendant at her neckâripples stirred in the sacred water within.
"Seems the orcs are coming. I hope I can fulfill Queen Catherineâs mission this time."
The tremors intensified. All Blackstone Mountains seemed to shake. A deep rumble echoed from the ground.
Stones tumbled from cliffs, even dwarven soldiers could feel it.
"By Moradinâ"
"What is that sound?"
"Did... did you feel that? That wasnât an illusion. The earth is trembling!"
Dwarf King Edd felt the stench of blood in the wind and shouted, "Itâs the orcs! The orc horde is coming! All forces prepare! Ready defenses at once!"
A sentry atop the wall gazed into the distance, jaw dropping in shock. "By Dumathoin..."
Dust and blood mist surged across the horizon, filling the sky.
Orcs poured out like a mottled flood, occupying the valley. Ferocious beasts ran rampant. The flow never ceased.
A horde of hundreds of thousands surged forth.
Compared to the earlier vanguard led by Monk, this army was far greater, its momentum overwhelming.
"Awoooâ"
Orcs raised horns made from enemy thighbones. A long, deep blare like a beastâs growl sounded.
Orc light cavalry galloped across the battlefield, wielding spears, drawing shortbows, shouting.
Their direwolves snarled, eyes bloodshot with gleaming malice.
These were the vanguard wolf-rider light cavalryâswift, nimble, drawing fire and wearing down defenders.
But atop Avenderdanâs walls, elves in silver armor drew their longbows, aiming skyward.
"Whooshâ"
Arrows shot forth like comets, silver arcs streaking through the air.
These werenât ordinary arrowsâthey shimmered with magical silver light.
Nearing the orcs, the arrows burst, scattering into showers of silver bolts.
They rained down like a storm, dense and deadly.
"Aah!"
"Elf magic arrows!"
"Damn long-ears! Iâll scalp you and offer your headsâ"
The arrows tracked their targets. Even swift wolf riders couldnât dodge them.
Almost every bolt pierced orc chests, impaling hearts.
Screams, curses, and agony filled the battlefield. Hundreds of orc riders died where they stood.
Edd saw the fallen corpses and laughed heartily: "Well done! Sereniaâs elite never disappoint!"
The elves drew again, charging silver light until the wall shimmered.
Orc officers waved scimitars and shouted: "Where are our shamans?! Block the long-earsâ arrows!"
"O Great Fatherâ
You are the invincible conqueror! Grant us protection from their blades and arrows!"
Shamans bearing blood runes floated into the air, raising bone staves and chanting ancient incantations.
"Whooshâ"
Blood mist surged and formed a wide crimson curtain before the horde.
Elf arrows came again, but were halted by the screen, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Meanwhile, the orcs retaliated.
"Fragile long-ears!"
A lofty "Eye of Gruumsh" drew a runed longbow, his single eye brimming with bloodlust.
"Whooshâ"
A black arrow, swirling with bloody wind, ripped the sky from over a kilometer away.
"No!"
The elf archerâs expression changed. He tried to dodge but couldnât.
The force struck him, piercing his abdomen and shredding his organs.
"Bang!"
His tall body flew back, slammed into the wall, blood splattering.
A noble pure-blood elf was killed from a kilometer away, without a chance to resist.
Rheaâs face darkened. Every member of her unit was elite and loyal to Queen Catherine.
If the Silvermoon Followers fell here, it could doom the queenâs hopes to retake Serenia.
She could not allow it!
Turning, Rhea ordered a robed elf: "Seymour, protect our kin with everything you have."
"Yes, Lady Rhea."
Seymour raised a wooden staff, chanting softly. The moonstone atop glowed gently.
He levitated, white robes fluttering.
Above the wall, a shining barrier formed to shield the elves.
It was Sereniaâs signature Seven-Ring Spell: [Serenia Radiant Bastion]!
"Whooshâ"
Suddenly another black arrow shrieked through the air like a meteor.
Seymourâs spell wasnât finishedâand the arrow was heading for him!
"You wonât!"
Rhea slashed with her silver sword, twilight light blazing forth.
In an instant, the arrow disintegrated in a burst of scorched ash.
Seymourâs spell completed. The radiant bastion enveloped the walls.
Dwarves cranked catapults, launching barrels of gunpowder and liquor into the horde.
Some exploded midair, others smashed into orcs, killing many.
Wolf-riders dodged arrows, trying to snipe defenders.
Elf mages raised their staves, casting spells drawn from millennia of Serenian magic.
Fire, ice, and light fell upon the orcs, dazzling the battlefield.
Death swept the battlefield. The orcs, still distant from the walls, suffered more than the defenders.
In moments, over three thousand orc riders were slain, their bodies littering the field.
"Death is not the end! Brave warriors live eternally in Gruumshâs Nishak Realm!
Orcs! Continue the charge! Reclaim the world for our kind!"
The warchiefâs booming voice rang across the battlefield. Despite losses, more orcs surged forth.
As orc faith held, those who brought honor would live on in Gruumshâs Nishak Realm.
There, they would fight interplanar wars for their god, clashing with goblin deities.
But nightly in Nishak, warriors slaughtered each other in eternal bloodshed for Gruumshâs amusement.
There was no death thereâonly rebirth and endless torment for the weak.
But now, the orcs were exhilarated. They raised weapons, shouting:
"For the Great Father!"
"Glory to orcs! We shall live forever!"
Behind the wolf-riders, the main horde advanced, stepping over their fallen kin.
Beasts charged under arrowfire. Half-orc giants and ogres carried bone shields in front, with tens of thousands of infantry behind.
Above, trained giant eagles and vultures circled, along with scorpion lions and wyverns drawn by blood fog.
At the rear, Batu Skullcrusher stood on a plains drake, eyes on Avenderdan.
The gold dragon stirred atop the wall, wings spread, tail swaying, ready to strike.
Batu muttered, gnashing teeth: "That damned gold-scaled lizard... why is it here?! With it, the walls are near impossible to breach. I must deal with it nowâwhile itâs unguarded."
His expression twisted. His one eye gleamed viciously.
"Nasu, bring me my blood spear."
"Yes."
The old shaman pulled out dried beast hide, unwrapped a long spear, and handed it over.
"Ahh... still fits perfectly, my old friend..."
Batu caressed the spearâs rough, bloodstained surfaceâit had pierced many hearts, even slain a titanâs kin.
Now, he wielded it again, aiming for the dragon impeding their conquest.
Batu gripped the spear, eyes fixed on the gold dragon with a hunterâs gaze.
He pressed it to his forehead, praying: "O Great Father...
Supreme One-Eyed God, watcher, sleeplessâgrant your servant power to slay this foe!"
"Boom!"
Thunder roared through the valley.
Batuâs eye flared crimson. Blood mist poured from the socket, engulfing the spear.
The one-eyed rune on his brow blinked, glowing with evil intent.
"Thank you, Father...
I offer you Avenderdan itselfâits dwarves, elves, even the dragonâs head!"
Grinning, Batu exhaled foul smoke, veins bulging as he raised the spear.
"Gold dragonâ
Blocking the orcs was your gravest mistake!" Thunder rolled, wind howled. Batu ran nearly a hundred meters, then hurled the spear with all his might.
"Boom!"
The air screamed. A red gash tore the sky like a wound.
The sky... bled.
The blood spear soared thousands of meters, leaving a trail of bloodlight, forming a spear image stretching across the heavens.
Dwarves and elves looked up in horror, seeing an immense one-eyed orc laughing as he struck with a godly spear.
This was Gruumshâs power!
Even the thirty-meter gold dragon seemed minuscule under such might.
"Lord Titus, beware!"
Rhea stood tall, sword raised, silver hair blown by the wind. She cried out.
"Roarââ"
The dragonâs roar shook the heavens, overpowering the spearâs shriek.
Everyone looked up. Stones crumbled as the gold dragon spread its wings and soared, gales surging from its ascent.