Strong tremors from the marching of the Orcs could be felt even by those on the ramparts.

The large sturdy platforms were trembling even though the Orc army is still a distance away. The three meters frame of those beastly beings towers over any human, and the students stood in speechless trepidation.

They once lived in fear of those magical beings.

And, on that day, mankind received a grim reminder.

It is only from their history books that they learned that long ago the great Orc armies once marched like this. Any cities they raid ended up in ruins.

They were an unstoppable force… until the Orc God was slain by a being of unfathomable power. The protector of their species, the Orc King, lost its protection; the blessing of immortality.

Afterwards, it was a downhill battle. What was left of the great armies of the Orcs continued to march against the humans. The struggle for superiority became a bloody vortex that devoured all who participated. Days dragged on to months until the two armies finally had one last confrontation on the Endless Plains. And when it was done, the land they fought on had become known as the Blood Fields.

It was in that final battle that the humans finally took the head of the Orc King, and losing their sovereign devolved them till today's feral state.

Kairos stood alert on the rampart. The sight of over a thousand Orcs struck fear deep into the hearts of all his men. This situation is no longer something that they can handle by themselves. Their only hope is for the Instructors to cancel their training exercise and aid them in retreat. Yet at this moment no such news has come as if the instructors turned a blind eye to them.

After taking over the role as commander, Kairos gained access to the communication between the tacticians with academy's staff. Using his clearance, he had found out the requests that George had previously sent, to have Kairos pulled out of this exercise, for fear of losing someone talented.

Though he felt gratitude towards George for worrying about him, even if he were ordered to be pulled out, he would undoubtedly reject the offer until all of his friends are safe.

Yet, when he opened the replying letters from the instructors, a rage coursed through him. All he read was the school’s unwillingness to care about their own students.

It is evident that the instructors have already seen the Orcs been attacking them, and how Calculus attempted to kill his teammates. Were the lives of commoners so worthless to them?

He pulled out a spyglass from the commander's pouch that he now carries on his waist, and looked their foes. Soul Perception may be convenient, but this method is far less taxing.

The Orcs had tightened the net around them. In every direction surrounding their base, the army marched. Dust rose with every step, as their massive weight threatens to break the ground under them.

At an encroaching distance three hundred meters away, and just before the moat, they finally stopped. At the very front stood a young Orc, roughly one-half meters in height. For this race of War Beasts, it is considered rather tiny, yet the immense pressure that it let out made it seem taller and bigger than the rest.

That particular Orc looked at the ramparts with intelligent eyes. Its composure far beyond its savage kin would act.

No one would believe that just two weeks ago, it was only a magical crystal egg sitting on one of the shelves of the hatchery room where all newly laid eggs are placed.

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It was different from the very moment when its egg was solidified from the mana of its papa and mama Orcs. Instead of the beautiful purple crystals of its peers, it glowed in a metallic black colour. Its crystal's size was almost ten times smaller than the others, but even the slow-witted Orcs could tell that it is filled with powerful, condensed magic.

On the second day, it talked, humming in its crystal songs that resonated musically in the hatchery. At once, all the other crystal eggs around it echoed their songs in response, and they started to converse that way.

It had known of its existence from hearing the adults that took care of it. And, they called it their King.

It had slowly come to know of its purpose, the one that is destined to lead its people. And it enjoyed its safe and comfortable home, awaiting the day of its birth.

However, that fragile peace was torn asunder by Calculus. Their village raided, their people killed, and as if seeking to cause as much hate as possible, even its friends in their crystals were destroyed.

If that human boy wanted to rally them up by stroking their anger, then his goal had met with overwhelming success. Much, much more than he could imagine.

Looking at their broken straw huts, and dirt floor littered with the bodies of their slain follows, the orcs bellowed their hatred, and in their anger, they called for their King - for it is the symbol of their might.

Their wrath, their losses, poured into it like a raging torrent.

For the next few days, it talked to its brethren; those crystal eggs that had survived. It encouraged them to be born quickly, to strengthen themselves. And, to pick up their fathers' weapons and hunt down the humans.

In the meantime, their warriors formed a party to hunted the perpetrators, but Calculus somehow managed to escape, even after being cornered several times.

Their failure at vengeance burned like an unquenchable thirst, and it could no longer wait.

Driven by hatred and retribution, it finally hatched. The black crystal imprisoning it shattered into dust from its awakening. It's flesh that was trapped within the tiny crystal previously, rapidly increased in size.

The newborn War Beast roared, the anger its people felt reflected off its voice. In its own way, it declared the long over-due justice it shall deliver. The shockwave that followed would be carried across the training ground, and eventually wound or disrupt the Ki of the cultivators.

All that heard the roar trembled at its power. It only hoped that they also felt its rage.

It quickly grew up. Unlike other Orcs that feed solely on flesh, it also feasted upon the very essence of life in the air. It is the energy that every living being naturally emits, no matter if it is a blade of a leaf or a gigantic beast.

This natural life force that cannot be detected by regular humans is what they had been calling mana, and it enabled the young Orc to mature much quicker. Ki, on the other hand, is the strength that the body generates, not unlike one’s stamina, but concentrated and fully controllable.

Although most people are born without the gift to use mana, it is rare for a Magic Beast to be without this energy. 

However, Mana is an energy that cannot be possessed by taking in from the environment. A magus could only increase his magic power with growth, and natural talent. It is completely different from the Heavenly Energies – a coarse, unwieldable mixture of all naturally existing forces - that the Cultivators refines to strengthen themselves with.

It is a common knowledge that, at most, a spell caster could temporarily borrow mana from the surrounding. But, the Orc King is an exception. It gobbles it up like food, and grow stronger every day.

The translucent purple energy flowed into it, rapidly improving its body, giving it strength and confidence.

As it continued to grow, it started sending out Orc scouts to find the target of their anger, but they were also pushed back.

Finally, from the rivers that give them life, they found the scent of their children’s blood and along with that smell, a human's.

With senses keener than most beasts, they quickly lock on their target, a full day away on the East.

…..

The Orc King looked gleefully upon the ramparts.

Just as Kairos spotted it, the young Orc spotted Kairos.

It spread its arms out, and its troops split up into many small groups. Then, pointing at the ramparts, the first wave of Orcs charged forward.

"Fire!" Kairos yelled when the horde started crossing the moat. Unlike human practitioners, they do not have any martial arts to help them jump across the water using twigs or logs.

The gel tipped arrows rained down on them Inhibited by the stream, their purple blood stained the once crystal clear waters. Even the river current did little to wash away their blood.

After numerous deaths, they finally reached the timber wall. They ferociously charged and smashed their great stone clubs against the ramparts. Their pent-up rage made their formidable physical strength even greater. Every strike caused a resounding thud, threatening to break the freshly extracted logs.

The great trees of the forest that they harvested were wide enough for two to three humans to surround the trunk by hugging, but at this rate, it would not last the hour. And consequently, it wouldn't be long before they lose the siege.

But a single voice raised their spirits.

*The five elements of creation revolves on my arrows*

In the midst of the roar of anger and the desperate shooting of arrow from the students, a bright glow lit up from Edward's bow. Though unlike previous times, he was not in a hurry to cast his secret arts.

*Upon its tip carries my frozen will. Its shaft made of lightning. Its feathers guided by wind*

Wide grins plastered on the faces of those from the Snowdrifts. They all know that this is the attack of one of their leaders.

*I call upon the true name of destruction. Enyo!! Deliver my rage!*

A pregnant silence loomed at the end of his martial incantation as they watched a beautiful light tore through the battlefield. His arrow cuts a path across the Orcs in mid-charge, and immediately, over twenty War Beasts fell, unable to comprehend the large gaping hole in their body.

A great explosion sounded where the arrow land and even the smoke that raised was blasted apart. The crater that was left behind was littered with over fifty Orcs, dead.

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHRGGGGG!!!!!

The once demoralised students roared in great cheer, and even the young Orc King stood astonished.