“TRAP? WHAT FUCKING TRAP?” one of the soldiers shouted and retreated. He was only a kid. The second group that had been broken by the initial attack had suffered greatly. Only the five veterans still stood in place along with two recruits. They quickly reformed their line while the other young recruits fled into the forest like headless chickens. The orcs sneered.
‘They are way too powerful for normal orcs! Even for seasoned warriors!’ Lucon thought as a hint of panic made its way into his mind. He quickly calmed himself as his group had closed in on the orcs who laughed and attacked the other group whose formation had been shattered.
The remaining veterans banded up with the second group and attacked the 8 remaining orcs. Two of them had been injured.
Most of the human soldiers had disregarded the orc's comment about a trap as a diversion, but as the two groups were embroiled in a brutal battle Lucon could hear the shrieks of the fleeing recruits.
One after another he heard them shout as they were slaughtered. He couldn’t see them anymore, but he was sure now that there were other orcs. There must be. He saw the expression on the remaining soldiers' faces. Only ten of his underlings remained standing, most of them veterans and some injured. They had killed the orcs… but at what cost?
‘This… is a disaster… we will all die… and my carelessness… no. I can’t let those thoughts in my head now.'
“Formation!” he shouted to the remaining soldiers who formed a small circle. The orcs were dead, but it was clear there were more of them coming out of the forest. Slowly but surely… 10 orcs appeared… then 20… then 40… they were all snickering.
Then one orc, taller than all the others stepped forward. He did not wear armor. His body was covered in tattoos. He was easily 7 feet tall. Probably taller than that. The orc was bald and had scars all over his face and upper body.
He sneered when he saw the small group of humans on the battlefield, completely surrounded.
Lucon’s knees were weak. He had only heard myths… but what stood before him… was one of the famous blood warriors. A large bloody hand covered his head. The orc saw that one of the recruits had pissed themselves and laughed.
He moved his tall frame forward and laughed.
“What is it? So brave at first… but so weak and fearful now?” An aura unlike any other Lucon had ever witnessed surrounded the orc. It was unnatural. Magical even. That’s what he had heard from other veterans… but it was impossible to stand firm in the face of the blood warrior. One of the remaining recruits screamed in fear and cowered on the ground. The orcs laughed viciously, grunting and screeching.
Even the veterans struggled to face this giant. They had formed a tight formation with their spears pointed at the approaching blood warrior.
“STAND FIRM! FOR THE KING!” Lucon shouted, his voice firmer and more powerful than he felt.
“FOR THE KING!” the soldiers repeated the famous battle cry after him, though it didn’t sound very determined. It had a very desperate ring to it. They could not run. They had no other choice.
“Humans… so frail and weak…” the orc grinned. He pointed at Lucon. “You must be their commander… you must be exceptionally stupid or prideful to attack a group of veteran orcs with such a pitiful force! How does it feel to have the blood of 30 children on your hands?” he snickered.
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The meaning of the words and the revelation snapped Lucon out of his mental focus on the battle. It hit him. Harder than he could ever expect. He looked around him and everywhere he saw a young boy impaled with a spear, cleaved in half, lone body parts, and mangled corpses.
The blood warrior snickered when he saw the effect of his words.
“And you say orcs are cruel…” he smirked and threw one of the boy’s bodies to the group's feet who involuntarily took a step back.
When the young Lucon looked down on the corpse he saw that the entire chest had been sliced open and organs were hanging out… his facial expression was distorted in fear and pain. His eyes had lost all luster. Lucon recognized him. He stared at the boy at his feet and anger rose within him. Not at the orcs before him, no, but at himself.
‘I am a fool! An utter fool! My pride and carelessness have killed us all! I have killed my comrades… children and veterans alike!’ he could barely remain standing and vomited. The realization was too much for his body. The orcs laughed and it resounded through the forest as a thunderous mix of screeches, grunts, and laughter.
The blood warrior laughed the loudest. “Yeah. Sucks to be you right? I would hate to be the cause of so many innocent deaths…” he sneered and showed his teeth, now barely out of spear range of the desperate veterans. If he attacked… they would have no way to escape and survive. And he would.
The orc continued.
“But, as much as I love to see your suffering little commander… I will have to end it. But only after killing all of your subordina-“ he was cut short as a loud war horn resounded throughout the forest and hooves could be heard in the distance.
The orcs immediately started to form formations and prepare themselves for battle when the hooves became louder and louder and multiple war horns were blown. First 5, then 10, then 50, then a hundred.
The sounds echoed throughout the forest, deep and powerful. The many different instruments blended into a bone-chilling symphony of destruction. The blood warrior had immediately turned away from the small group of warriors and shouted commands in orcish to arrange his troops.
There was a small detachment of archers, some spearmen, and a detachment with large cleavers. They set up a battle formation as the hooves closed in and the war horns sent shivers down the orc's spines.
‘THE DIVISION COMMANDER!’ Lucon thought excitedly, the hope overshadowing all else.
Even the Blood Warrior was tense. He gripped his sword with both hands and waited for the enemy to arrive. One of his veterans pulled Lucon away from the orc formations as their group retreated. The incoming battle would be so big they would be unable to contribute anything.
‘The division commander’s troops are the best trained and equipped units in the earldom. We’re saved! The orcs completely disregard us as we pose no threat…’ Lucon analyzed the situation. The hooves were now getting much closer, and he could hear a human’s shout.
“CARACOL!” an order was bellowed as 20 light horsemen galloped out of the forest and surrounded the orc ranks from a safe distance. Each one of them had 6 throwing spears on their backs. They skillfully maneuvered in between the trees.
The horsemen shouted excitedly, and the orc archers immediately opened fire. The horsemen circled the orcs perfectly before throwing their javelins into the small army, thinning their lines by a fifth.
As fast as they had appeared they retreated again. They had used up their javelins. They had rendered many shields useless and killed about 20 orcs. About a fifth of the small army. The orc archers were able to kill 2 of the skirmishers before they retreated.
Lucon could only watch, mesmerized. After the retreat, on a small elevation, a dozen archers assumed position and immediately started firing down at the orcs. At the same time, one could hear the steps of soldiers advancing.
A tight formation of 60 heavily armored spearmen made its way toward the orc ranks as the archers fired upon the orc formation. The blood warrior did not stand around without acting and ordered his archers to return fire. A battle between their archers ensued.
He shouted a few words in orcish, and the orc spearmen assumed a tight formation, similar to the human one. The only difference was that in the second row, the largest orcs stood, with their heavy armor and large cleavers.
With each step, the human formation advanced they shouted in unison. “Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Their boots slammed into the ground rhythmically as they slowly neared the orc formation that had assumed defensive positions.
The blood warrior smirked and readied himself to join the frenzy.
Then Lucon saw something he would never forget in his entire lifetime.