On Zer Voltag’s command, the orcs began pushing forward again. When they reached the first rank defenders, a pair of orcs cast their shields aside and each picked a man up and lifted them over their heads, shrugging off the spells and arrows that rained down on them. Then, to the horror of the other defenders, the orcs tore the screaming men limb from limb with their bare hands before flinging the remains at their horrified brothers in arms.
In the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Grimald reach into his pocket and retrieve a dried red mushroom. He stared at it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. Moments later, his breathing became short and ragged and sweat streamed down his face.
“For Jord!” the dwarf roared as he hurled himself into the orcs, his axe blazed with radiant white energy from the Cardinal’s blessing as he swung it wildly.
Being so much shorter than the giant orcs, Grimald was able to make it awkward for them to see his swings when he got close. He struck the first two purple eyed orcs with so much force that it severed their legs at the knee, sending them flying through the air.
“The fool took a berserker mushroom,” Udoriol breathed.
“Don’t get too close to him!” the elf cried as he rushed to aid his friend. Other defenders joined the fray and soon, chaos reigned in the gatehouse as the battle was joined, obliging wizards on both sides to hold their spells.
The defenders, White Cloaks and Blue, despite being empowered by the blessings of the Cardinal, and possessing the superior numbers were slowly being driven back by the orcs, who were infused with magical energy. As the orcs hacked down a defender, another stepped up to take his place. Any orc that pushed too far out of the gatehouse was quickly overwhelmed as the defenders could bring their superior numbers to bear.
However, on one side of the gatehouse, the defenders were able to gain the upper hand. Again and again, Grimald’s blazing axe shone brilliantly as he brought it crashing down on his foes, slowly helping to turn the tide, while careless of the damage he was doing to his own body. Udoriol was close at hand, staying behind the dwarf to heal his wounds as best he could.
Sarah felt the ground tremble underfoot and saw that the giant orc, Zer Voltag had entered the gatehouse and was now standing amongst his underlings, observing their struggles. A wicked grin crossed his lips, exposing his huge fangs.
“Well done, humans,” he laughed, “This will be a battle worth fighting after all.”
He let off a roar and all fighting ceased. Even Grimald, in his enraged state was intimidated into stopping.
“Bring forth your Champion!” Zer Voltag demanded, “So that I may crush him and show you the meaning of despair.”
“I do not fear you, brute,” Kurt said as he stepped forward with his sword and shield at the ready. “I will be your opponent.”
Zer Voltag smirked. The giant orc carried a massive war maul that stood as tall as he did in one hand and a huge kite shield in the other. He wore blackened steel armour topped by a helmet in the shape of a wolf beneath which his eyes glowed purple.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on fighting this foe.” Sarah turned to see Hicham approaching with his radiant wings spread out behind him. His face was a mask of fury and his longsword blazed brilliantly in his hand.
“Treto’s Chosen,” the orc breathed. He paused and looked as though he was listening to an unheard voice. At length, he looked at Hicham and grinned. “My master has granted me permission to play with you.”
The other orcs made way for their leader, who looked at the gathered defenders with malevolent glee. “All of you may come at me at once if you wish. It will save me the trouble of chasing you down.”
“Suits me,” Sarah breathed.
“Burning hands!”
The orc was quick to react, blocking the twin pillars of flame with his massive shield. Sarah noticed that John had disappeared from her side but didn’t have time to worry about him as the orc barrelled down on her.
Hicham darted forward, aided by his wings, and struck at the orc from the side. Zer Voltag swept his sword aside with his war maul and with quick footwork, darted to the side so that Hicham was positioned between him and Sarah, obliging her to cancel her spell.
Now that his shield hand was free, the massive orc attempted to smash his shield into Hicham, who dodged with the aid of his wings. The dark skinned young man leapt into the air and brought his blazing sword crashing down on the orc, cleaving a deep gouge into his cuirass.
“Fire blast!”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
A bolt of blue fire struck the orc in the head, blinding him temporarily. Hicham seized upon the opening and with a mighty cry, landed a blow on his head, knocking the orc’s helmet clean off. The giant orc glared at Hicham and blocked the follow up strike with his shield and landed a blow of his own with his war maul. Hicham and Udoriol both cast a shield spell which shattered almost instantly before the might of the orc’s strike. Hicham used his wings to propel him into the air, away from the strike, but could not avoid it. However, his quick thinking greatly reduced the impact of the blow, which sent him crashing into a stone wall.
The orc deflected Sarah’s flames with his shield as he advanced menacingly on his stricken foe. Then, he howled in agony as John leapt onto his back and drove both his blades into the creature’s exposed neck.
John clung onto his daggers for dear life as Zer Voltag thrashed about before eventually sinking to his knees. With a sharp tug, John pulled his daggers out, causing the orc’s head to fall from his shoulders before his stunned followers.
Moments later, Hicham sprang to his feet and looked at the headless corpse in shock. He then glared at John. “That was my kill!”
“Is that really important?” John cried in disbelief.
A bell began pealing from the cathedral, causing Hicham to look out at the horde beyond the gate. His eyes widened as a sudden realization hit him. “Dawn is here, and these are the servants of the Night,” he muttered to himself.
Without saying another word, his wings propelled him over the head of the stunned orcs. Once he was clear of the gatehouse, he soared high into the air and raised his sword over his head.
“Treto, Lord of Light and mightiest of the Pantheon, banish this darkness!”
His wings and sword grew brilliantly, forcing all who were watching to avert their gaze. Then, there came a blinding flash, and the darkness was dispelled, and the sky began to light up. To the east, the sun could be seen creeping over the horizon.
Sarah looked down and saw that the fire behind the orcs’ eyes had dimmed somewhat and realized that they were still reeling from the loss of their leader.
“Strike now!” she cried, “Burning hands!”
The pillars of fire struck a pair of nearby orcs. Their magical protection held against the flames for a moment before shattering, allowing the blue fire to consume them. The other defenders snapped out of their stupor and hurled themselves at the invaders.
Seeing that she could no longer influence things here, she called out to John, “I’m heading back up to the wall!”
Some of the robed priests followed her as she ran up the stairs where the defenders were struggling against the invaders who were still streaming up the ladder. She could see no sign of Lucy although the dark blue robed librarians were among those who were battling valiantly against the enemy.
Deciding that it was too dangerous to use her powers on top of the wall, she directed her attention to those at the bottom.
“Fireball!” she cried.
The foul black barriers shimmered as they intercepted her spells, but she continued casting. Soon, the other priests joined her in raining all manner of magic down on their foes below. Hicham then dove to the ground, placing himself in the midst of the horde and began swinging his blazing sword, creating an area of dazzling light amongst the black clad opponents below. Soon, the foul barriers shattered once and for all, and the combined might of the priests of the Pantheon struck down the Night Goddess’ followers.
“To the north!” one of the lookouts cried, “The Army of the Four Kingdoms is here!”
Sarah looked up to see an army marching swiftly down the hills to the north. Huge banners bearing the lion of Mithia, the hawk of Fondir, the stag of Darnos, and the leaping fish of Vanar fluttered proudly over their heads.
A horn sounded out from among the heretics below and to the defenders’ amazement, they began to disperse. Down on the ground, Hicham watched warily as the cultists around him took to their heels in all directions
“Have we won?” Sarah gasped as she watched the invaders on the wall get cut down from behind as they attempted to flee back down the ladders.
“This doesn’t feel right,” John said worriedly.
Sarah looked at the Citadel behind them and swallowed. “I know what you mean. I can’t help but feel that this isn’t over.”
They hurriedly made their way down to the gatehouse where all the giant orcs lay dead. The defenders had not taken a step beyond the shattered gates and were stood rooted in place, watching the pandemonium outside.
“Somehow, it doesn’t feel like we’ve won,” Udoriol remarked.
Kurt nodded in silent agreement next to him. The mood of the defenders was sombre, rather than celebratory. The attack and withdrawal had been so sudden. The mangled bodies of the fallen were piled high and provided a solemn reminder of just how costly the battle had been, and how close they had come to being overwhelmed.
“Where’s Grimald?” Sarah asked as she looked around frantically.
“He’s fine,” Udoriol said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He then pointed at the dwarf who had passed out as he sat against one of the walls. A White Cloak knelt next to him with a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder as he chanted a healing spell.
“He won’t be able to walk for a few days,” Udoriol breathed, “But he’ll be just fine. He’s fortunate there are so many healers close at hand.”
“Thank goodness,” Sarah sighed. Then, the tension left her, as did the strength in her legs and she sank to the ground.
“Thank goodness,” she repeated.
“Something’s not right about all this,” Kurt said darkly. “It still feels like we’re dancing in the palm of the Enemy’s hand.”
“Well, all the same, I think we should wait for the army to arrive before knocking on the Citadel’s door,” Hicham said as he walked back through the shattered gate.
A few of the defenders, mostly the White Cloaks, fell to their knees as he approached and bowed their heads.
“None of that, please,” Hicham said as he bade them to stand.
Cardinal Benedict got to his feet and beamed. “Your actions here will be spoken of for centuries to come.”
“They’re right, though,” Hicham said, “Our struggles here aren’t over. It would be unwise to assume they are.”
“You feel it, don’t you?” Udoriol asked as he looked at the Citadel, “Though the refugees are gone, the foul miasma of the soul gems remains.”
The Bell of Darnin stopped pealing abruptly and an eerie silence settled over the city.
“I suppose that means that the attackers on the South Gate have withdrawn too,” Kurt mused, “I wonder how they fared.”
“I suppose we’ll soon find out,” Hicham mused and turned to Udoriol, “What do you propose, master?”
Udoriol walked out of the gatehouse and watched the approaching army with a worried look in his eyes. “I think the first thing we should do is stop them from entering the city.”