Silence enveloped the battlefield as all eyes focused on the plummeting black silhouette of the high orc, engulfed in bright orange flames. The orcs stared in horror as the faint glimmer of hope that had begun to swell within their hearts was brutally extinguished.
"Aghh! Break the wall!" One of the mounted orcs took the lead, charging at the wooden barrier with the rest of the orcs following in his wake. Their eyes turned red, and a sinister gray aura enveloped their armored bodies, lending them a menacing appearance. The mounted units hurled their warboars against the wall with reckless abandon, while the infantry brandished their axes and pursued them.
“Blast them! Don’t let them break the walls!” Thorian commanded while launching a fireball of his own. However, no matter how many spells they threw at the mad orcs, it did nothing to stop their charge. Whenever one of the orcs would die, another would immediately take his place and hack away at the wooden wall.
Is this the orcs’ berserk skill? Truly fearless… But their backs are open to the warriors.
Casting a swift glance at the kobold and his subordinates, Thorian realized that this war of attrition was not to their advantage. Although the kobold was dispatching orcs with ease, their sheer numbers were overwhelming.
"Attack!" The mounted orc who had initially led his kin on this perilous endeavor readied himself for one final charge. The gray aura surrounding him intensified, encompassing the warboar he was riding. Both orc and boar swelled in size, the boar's determined expression matching its rider's resolve.
“Kill him!” Thorian noticed the danger and laid out his order immediately. He, along with the rest of the magi, conjured their spells and aimed them at the charging mad orc.
"Strike!" Elemental spells, representing all four forces of nature, hurtled toward their target with breakneck speed. However, before they could make contact with the formidable enemy, a group of self-sacrificing orcs leaped into the path of the magical onslaught. They were torn apart and reduced to ash, valiantly shielding their ultimate hope from destruction.
Witnessing the scene, Thorian's eyes widened in disbelief before a sudden tremor and a powerful shockwave threw him off balance. The orcs had successfully infiltrated their defenses.
"Stay here and provide cover fire!" Thorian commanded as he quickly regained his footing and positioned himself on the ledge, poised to leap into action. "I'll go down and prevent them from advancing any further."
Much to the astonishment of the kobolds, Thorian fearlessly jumped from the watchtower, plunging into the surging mass of green orcs. The thundering horde of beasts, mounted on their warboars, shook the ground like a relentless stampede of a thousand buffaloes.
Let’s see what this new skill does.
With a daring grin, Thorian embraced the imminent challenge and lunged at the oncoming monsters with remarkable swiftness. Blinded by their bloodlust, the frenzied orcs only saw red and continued their charge with increased intensity, intent on crushing Thorian beneath their boars' hooves.
Combustion Touch
Thorian delivered a forceful strike to the warboar's snout using the palm of his hand, just before initiating his spell. A surge of mana, far more potent than that of a mere fireball, flowed through his body and converged in his outstretched palm.
Boom!
The orc before Thorian was swiftly consumed by flames, which then fanned out in a fiery cone to incinerate the surrounding adversaries. The explosive shockwave hurled three mounted orcs backward, their bodies scorched and blackened by the relentless inferno.
Interesting, Thorian's grin broadened in response to the awe-inspiring demonstration of raw power. It reminds me of the final part of the Flaming Pheonix Dance.
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Feeling that his reserves of mana were running low, Thorian opened his panel and used all of his free points.
Mana: 36 -> 51
Feeling his body brimming with mana, Thorian focused back on the battlefield. The rest of the mounted orcs along with the foot soldiers were charging through the broken wall like ants out of an anthill.
“Let us dance.”
Thorian assumed a battle-ready stance and lunged at the approaching green foes with the steely resolve of a seasoned warrior. Each palm strike he delivered to an orc produced a fiery cone that eliminated another two or three of their brethren simultaneously. Empowered by his Resistance skill, Thorian remained unscathed by the blazing bodies, feeling neither pain nor burns. He gracefully navigated through walls of fire, overwhelming the orcs with his unmatched speed and strength. On this battlefield, he was a deity, cleansing the tainted souls of the orcs with his purifying flames.
As the devastation unfolded, the frenzy in the orcs' eyes gradually subsided, supplanted by the dreadful realization of their impending doom. The valiant kobold warriors assailed their enemies from behind, the watchtower magi unleashed the fury of all four elements upon them, and the stealthy assassins eliminated any who attempted to flee.
Most disheartening of all was Thorian's sheer superiority. His formidable fire skills proved overwhelming, and his ability to maneuver within the flames rendered him virtually invincible. Ultimately, they were left with only one option if they wished to survive.
"Mercy!" The orc who had breached the wooden barrier was the first to prostrate himself, pressing his forehead firmly into the muddy earth. His warboar lay lifeless, seared by Thorian's incendiary magic. Even he bore the scars of battle, with burn marks and singed skin marring his body.
Witnessing their makeshift leader reduced to such a submissive state, the orcs were taken aback.
"Zogthar, have you lost your mind? They killed the commander!" One of the orcs bellowed at the prostrate figure, only for Zogthar to shoot him a lethal glare.
The dissenting orc promptly recoiled in terror and turned to Thorian with trepidation. Thorian furrowed his brow at this unexpected turn of events, and noticing that the orcs had ceased their assault, he too halted his destructive rampage.
However, the warrior kobloids failed to grasp the situation and viewed this as an opportunity to eliminate more enemies and gain experience. Observing his troops ruthlessly cutting down the barely resisting orcs, Thorian decided to issue new orders.
"Stop!" Thorian's voice thundered across the chaotic battlefield, bringing the kobloids to an immediate halt. He then directed his attention to the orc named Zogthar. "Have you assumed the role of their leader?"
“I am Zogthar the Fierce, leader of the Mounted Legion and second-in-command of the Blacktusk Warband," Zogthar declared, placing his fist on his chest in a military salute before bowing even lower. "Please, show us mercy."
Hesitantly, the remaining orcs followed suit, emulating their vice-commander and kneeling before Thorian. Not one of them dared to meet his gaze.
"Please, have mercy on us!"
Thorian stroked the fur on his chin thoughtfully before motioning for the kobold and Nox to join him.
"What do both of you think? Should we accept their surrender?"
"We should kill them," the kobold declared with a sinister grin. "I'm just one kill away from leveling up."
Thorian chuckled at the response before turning his attention to Nox, who was deep in thought. "I believe it would be better if they joined us. We would become stronger!"
Thorian nodded, carefully considering both options. On one hand, killing the orcs would be the safest choice and provide immediate rewards in terms of experience. However, they were also critically short on personnel. Their army of thirteen kobloids barely constituted two and a half squads, far from a complete company.
"Thank you both for your input," Thorian said, his gaze shifting past Nox and the kobold to the kneeling orcs awaiting their fate. "As you mentioned, Nox, our numbers are limited, and we need more fighters. We won't kill them, but they can't simply join our ranks immediately either; that would create chaos. First, they must repair the damage they've caused."
Thorian then addressed the dissatisfied kobold, "Do you enjoy chopping trees?"
The kobold tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "No, not really. I'd rather hunt and grow strong."
"I thought as much," Thorian smiled. "But we need more wood to improve and repair our village. We'll have the orcs handle the tree-cutting while we focus on hunting."
“Thorian you’re smart,” The kobold's eyes widened, and his lips broke into a broad grin. “I like that idea a lot!”
Thorian chuckled, "I'm glad you approve."
He then strode alongside Nox and the kobold toward the orcs. What had begun as a small incident involving a portal materializing before their walls had ultimately resulted in an unexpected boon for their village.