The moon dipped low in the sky, casting dim lights across the night in the rocky clearing where I stood. My wings were outstretched, each feather ruffling slightly in the breeze as I faced the snarling pack of orcs. They were bigger than me, their hulking forms a dark mass against the fading light. I could feel the adrenaline surging through me, sharpening my senses.

I ready my claws, as the orcs roared and brandished their crude weapons. I had to stay focused. I might be young, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. My wings twitched, ready for a quick ascent if things got too close. One of the orcs lumbered forward, it's giant club swinging in a wide arc. I dodged to the side, my heart pounding as I moved with a speed that only a harpy could.

My eyes darted around, trying to find the best way to outmaneuver them. I wasn’t strong enough to take them head-on, but I had agility and cunning on my side. I used "Gust" to leaped into the air, my wings catching the wind and lifting me higher. From this vantage point, I could see the entire battlefield. I spotted a few rocks that would make good cover and a narrow path leading to the forest where I might find some escape routes.

I angled my wings, diving down toward a group of orcs who were trying to cluster together, hoping to make a stand. My claws extended, and I aimed for their vulnerable spots. They looked up in surprise as I swooped down, striking out with precision. I had to keep moving, stay unpredictable.

Sweat trickled down my face, mixing with the dirt and grime of battle. I couldn’t afford to let up, not even for a moment. I had to show these orcs that even a young harpy like me was not to be underestimated.

The chaos of the battle swirled around me as I danced between the orcs, my wings flaring with each quick maneuver, my breath heavy. I was getting tired, but I couldn't let it show.

I spotted one of the orcs, a hulking brute with a wolf hood and a jagged scar across his face, isolating himself from the group. He was hefting a massive double-edge axe, and his eyes were fixed on me. I had to be careful. This one looked stronger and faster than the rest.

I took a deep breath and flapped my wings and used "Gust," launching myself into the air. My talons gleamed as I prepared for another strike. The orc roared in frustration, swinging his club wildly as I hovered just out of reach. I darted in, slashing at his exposed side before pulling back. The orc howled in pain, but his eyes were still fierce. He swung again, and I barely managed to dodge the crushing blow.

My plan to lure them out of my cave was working but how they keep finding me in the dead of night was a mystery. I flew higher, my wings beating strongly as I tried to regain some distance. The orcs below were starting to spread out, trying to flank me from different angles. It was getting harder to keep track of them all.

After gaining some distance I took a small break while turning my head to see light, the orcs grew closer the I see one of the larger orcs, with a jagged scar running across its face, locked eyes with me. It grinned, revealing a mouth full of broken teeth, and raised a spear tipped with something dark and glistening as the torch illuminated it.

Poison. I recognized it immediately. My stomach twisted, but I didn’t let fear paralyze me. Instead, I banked sharply to the left, just as the orc hurled the spear with surprising speed. The weapon whizzed past me, narrowly missing my wingtip, and embedded itself into the ground with a dull thud. The orc cursed, and I used its momentary distraction to my advantage.

Using "Gust" to boost myself again, I launched myself into the air once more, higher this time, until I was just a blur against the dusky night sky. The orcs squinted, trying to keep track of me, but I was already diving again, this time aiming for the leader. I tucked my wings in tight and plummeted like a stone, my claws outstretched, eyes locked on my target.

The orc leader barely had time to react before I slammed into him with all the force I could muster. My claws tore into his shoulder, and he roared in pain, swinging his massive arm in a wild attempt to knock me off. I hung on, my claws digging deeper, as I drove him backward. His feet stumbled over the uneven ground, and I pushed harder, using my momentum to drive him to the ground.

But I wasn’t done. The other orcs were closing in, and I had to think fast. I released the leader and shot up into the sky once more, just as his comrades reached him. They hesitated, unsure whether to help their fallen leader or to try and bring me down. That split-second indecision was all I needed.

I scanned the clearing again, looking for something, anything, that could turn the tide in this rocky battlefield. Then I saw it: a tall dead tree, its thick trunk leaning precariously over the battlefield. If I could bring it down…

I dived again, but this time not towards the orcs. Instead, I sped towards the tree, slashing at its weakened base with my claws as I passed. The old wood splintered, groaning under its own weight. I could see the orcs below, looking up in confusion as they tried to figure out what I was doing. I circled back, slashing at the tree again, until finally, with a loud crack, it began to fall.

Move I angerly talked to myself, more to myself than anyone else, as the tree toppled towards the group of orcs. They scattered, but not quickly enough. The massive trunk crashed down, taking out several of them and blocking their path. The few that were left scrambled to escape, their formation broken and their spirits shattered.

Breathing hard, I landed lightly on a boulder, watching the remaining orcs retreat into the forest, leaving their fallen leader behind. My heart was still pounding, and my muscles ached from the exertion, but I had won.

I flexed my wings, shaking off the dust and grime. There was no time to rest. The battle might be over, but I knew more challenges awaited. I wasn’t just a harpy, after all—I was Sora, and I was just getting started.

as I think things where turning into my favor a low, guttural growl cut through the air. I whipped around, eyes wide, to see the orc leader pushing himself up from the ground. His massive form cast a long shadow as he rose to his full height, blood dripping from the wounds I had inflicted. He looked around at his fallen comrades, his expression darkening with each body he saw.

For a moment, I thought he would retreat, maybe give the order for the others to flee. But instead, he barked something in his harsh, guttural language—a string of words that sounded like rocks grinding together. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but whatever it was, it had an immediate effect. The remaining orcs, who had been tending to their injured or standing warily at the edges of the rocky terrain, suddenly snapped to attention.

They began helping the wounded, dragging them back behind a line of boulders, while those who were unhurt formed a semi circle around their leader. I hovered in place, unsure of what was happening. Were they regrouping? Retreating?

But the look in the leader’s eyes told me that retreat was the last thing on his mind. He locked eyes with me, a murderous gleam in his gaze, and slowly began to walk forward. The other orcs stepped aside, giving him space as he advanced, his heavy footfalls echoing the rocky surface as rocks break.

I swallowed hard, my wings twitching involuntarily. This wasn’t how I expected things to go. I had thought the tree would crush his spirit along with his comrades, but instead, it seemed to have only fueled his anger. He stopped a few paces away, towering over me like a mountain. His massive fists clenched and unclenched around the hilt of his battle-axe, the blade still smeared with the dark poison that could end me with a single cut.

He didn’t speak this time. Instead, he simply raised his weapon, the air humming with the tension between us. My heart pounded in my chest, every instinct screaming at me to fly, to get away, but I held my ground. This wasn’t the time to show fear.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I had to think, had to stay one step ahead. He was bigger, stronger, but I had speed and agility on my side. The battle wasn’t over—not by a long shot. As he took a battle stance, I mirrored him, my wings spreading wide, ready to react to his every move.

The clearing fell into a tense silence, broken only by the distant calls of the orcs tending to their wounded. The leader’s eyes narrowed, and I knew the next move would be the deciding one. This was it—the final clash, hopefully they won't bother finding me again when I defeat their leader.

And I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I landed softly on the ground, the earth cool beneath my talons. The orc leader followed suit, his heavy footsteps thudding against the rocky soil. For a moment, we stood still, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, without a word, we began to circle each other, eyes locked, every muscle primed for action.

I could feel his gaze probing, searching for any hint of weakness. His massive frame loomed over me, muscles coiled and ready. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm, to think clearly. This was the moment I had been training for, even if I hadn't realized it yet.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He moved first, a deliberate step forward, his battle-axe raised high. I mirrored his movement, keeping my distance, my wings slightly unfurled for balance. His eyes never left mine, and I met his stare with unwavering determination.

As he swung his axe in a wide arc, aiming to catch me off guard, I ducked low, rolling to the side to evade the deadly blade. The air whooshed past me where his axe had been moments before. I retaliated with a swift kick towards his midsection, aiming to disrupt his balance. He grunted, the force of my strike sending him staggering back a step.

We continued our dance of combat, each testing the other's defenses. He was powerful, his blows heavy and intent on overpowering me. I relied on my agility, darting in and out, striking quickly before retreating to safety. Every time he swung, I was ready to dodge, to weave through his attacks like the wind itself.

I could feel the eyes of the remaining orcs watching, but their presence faded into the background. This was my fight, my moment to prove myself. I couldn't afford to falter.

He feinted to the left, and I fell for it, but caught the tell in his movement and pivoted in time but blood escape on my shoulder as I forced my body to ignore it and use "Grit." My counterattack came using "Claw" swiftly—a clawed hand reaching towards his exposed side. He anticipated it, however, and caught my wrist, his grip like iron. Pain shot through my arm, but I twisted free, using my momentum to spin behind him.

Before he could react, I struck at his back, my claws digging into the rough hide of his armor. He howled, spinning to face me, his axe swinging wildly. I ducked under the arc, feeling the rush of air as the blade passed overhead. Closer now, I leapt forward, aiming a kick at his chest to send him reeling.

He blocked my attack with his forearm, the impact jarring my bones. Our eyes met again, each of us recognizing the determination mirrored in the other's gaze. This was more than a battle; it was a test of wills.

I took a deep breath, feeling the strength of my wings beneath me, even as I stood grounded. I needed to end this, to find an opening. He was relentless, but so was I. Time seemed to slow as we circled once more, each waiting for the other to make the decisive move.

Then, in a split second, he lunged forward, his axe aimed directly at my heart. Instinct took over—I sidestepped, grabbing his wrist to redirect the swing. His grip tightened, but I leveraged my agility, twisting free and delivering a sharp kick to his knee.

He staggered, pain flashing across his face, and I seized the opportunity. With a burst of speed, I darted in, used "Claw" and "Vital Strike", aiming for his exposed side. He tried to recover, but I was already moving again, a blur of motion. I landed a solid hit to his shoulder, feeling the impact reverberate through my arm.

He roared, a guttural sound filled with rage and respect, and raised his axe once more. This time, there was a hint of caution in his eyes—a recognition that I was not to be underestimated. We circled again, each breathing heavily, the battle now as much a mental duel as a physical one.

I could sense his fatigue, the toll the fight was taking, and I knew I had to press my advantage. Summoning every ounce of strength and cunning, I feinted left, then spun right, my claws aimed at his side. He reacted too slowly, and the blade of my claw sliced through the air, grazing his armor and drawing a thin line of blood.

He staggered, and I pressed forward, my wings fluttering in a final display of dominance. With a swift, decisive movement, I disarmed him, sending his axe clattering to the ground. He stood before me, breathing heavily, eyes filled with a mixture of anger and begrudging respect.

For a moment, we stood there, the clearing silent except for our heavy breaths. Then, slowly, he nodded—a gesture of acknowledgment, perhaps, of his defeat. I lowered my claws, keeping my gaze steady.

The air was thick with tension as the orc leader and I squared off, each of us battered but unyielding. His eyes blazed with fury, but beneath that, I sensed a growing respect—or perhaps, just a grim recognition that this fight would not end easily.

We circled each other again, more slowly this time, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. My muscles screamed in protest, my wings felt heavy, but I pushed the exhaustion aside. I couldn’t afford to show weakness. Not now, when the battle had reached its peak.

Then, with a guttural roar, the orc leader beat his chest as a red aura is seen, he looks at me then charged. There was no hesitation in his movements, only raw, unbridled power. His fists swung wide, one aiming to smash me to the ground while the other reached for his fallen axe. I had seconds to react.

I darted to the side, feeling the rush of wind as his fist narrowly missed my head. But I couldn’t avoid the second blow. His other hand closed around the hilt of his axe, and with a powerful yank, he wrenched it from the earth and brought it down towards me in one fluid motion.

My instincts screamed at me to dodge, but there was no time. Instead, I planted my feet firmly on the ground and raised my arms crossing them above my head to catch the blow and used "Grit." The impact reverberated through my bones, nearly driving me to my knees. The force of it sent a shockwave through my body, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to give in.

He pushed down with all his might, trying to overpower me, to crush me beneath the weight of his weapon. My claws dug into the ground, my wings flared out for balance as I fought back with every ounce of strength I had left. The blade hovered inches above my head, the dark poison on its edge gleaming ominously.

With a growl, I shoved upward, breaking the deadlock. The orc leader staggered back, surprise flashing in his eyes. I didn’t waste a second. I sprang forward, wings propelling me with lightning speed, and slammed into his chest with a force that knocked the wind out of him.

He stumbled, and I pressed the advantage. My claws lashed out, striking at his exposed side, drawing a deep, jagged line across his ribs. He roared in pain, his grip on the axe faltering, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he swung the weapon again, this time with desperation rather than precision.

I dodged, feeling the blade graze my feathers, and spun around to face him. He was breathing heavily now, his movements sluggish, but still dangerous. I could see the resolve in his eyes—he wasn’t going to back down. Not until one of us was defeated.

We clashed again, a flurry of strikes and counters, each of us giving everything we had left. My claws tore at his armor, while his axe swung in wide, vicious arcs, each one a potential deathblow. But I was faster, my small size working to my advantage as I slipped through his defenses again and again.

Just as I felt the battle tipping in my favor, the orc leader took a step back, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His eyes were still locked on mine, but there was a flicker of something new in them—perhaps fear, perhaps respect. I could almost taste victory, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts as I prepared to end this fight.

But just as I was about to strike, something slammed into my back with the force of a boulder. Pain exploded through my body, every nerve alight with agony. My wings flared instinctively, but they couldn’t catch the air. My vision blurred as I staggered forward, barely able to keep my balance.

What—?

I tried to turn, to see what had hit me, but my body wouldn’t respond. My legs buckled beneath me, and I fell to my knees, the ground rushing up to meet me. The last thing I saw was the orc leader’s expression, a mixture of surprise and grim satisfaction, before darkness closed in around me.

The world faded to black, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The sounds of the battle, the distant roars of the orcs, all faded into nothingness. I was falling, deeper and deeper into the void, the pain in my back a distant memory as everything went silent.

- - -

Kragg's chest heaved with exhaustion as he watched the young harpy collapse to the ground, unconscious. Victory should have tasted sweet, but instead, a bitter anger simmered in his gut. The moment he had been waiting for—the chance to prove his strength, to crush his opponent in a fair fight—had been snatched away.

He turned sharply, his gaze narrowing as it settled on Guldar, the warlock who had dared to intervene the old one wore a brown robe with a skull of a hydra head embedded on his staff staff. The wiry orc stood at the edge of the clearing, his dark robes fluttering in the breeze, a smug expression plastered across his twisted features. The glowing remnants of dark magic still crackled in his hands, the evidence of his interference.

“What have you done, Guldar?” Kragg’s voice was a low growl, barely contained fury lacing each word. He stomped towards the warlock, the ground trembling slightly under his weight. “That was my fight! My victory to claim!”

Guldar's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of contempt and amusement. "Victory? Perhaps. But it was taking too long, and we have more important matters to attend to than watching you play with a child."

Kragg's nostrils flared as he struggled to contain his rage. The orc warlord had always prided himself on his strength, his ability to fight and conquer. Glory in battle was what drove him, what made him who he was. And Guldar had stolen that from him.

“You had no right to interfere!” Kragg’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, barely controlled. His frustration was palpable, his gaze flickering toward the fallen harpy, who lay unconscious a few paces away. “I was on the verge of ending that fight, and you—”

“—And you were about to get yourself killed,” Guldar interrupted smoothly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “You’re not just a warrior, Kragg. You’re our leader. Your role is to lead us to victory, not to get yourself cut down in a pointless duel.”

Kragg’s jaw tightened. “Pointless? That harpy was a challenge worth facing. I wanted the glory of defeating him myself.”

Guldar’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “Do you want to be out there on the frontlines fighting every day, or do you want to be stuck here, gathering herbs and animals? We both know what you’d rather have.”

Kragg could feel the frustration boiling within me, a hot rage that had nothing to do with the skirmish and everything to do with Guldar’s interference. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve fought harder battles than this. If you want me to stay behind and gather herbs, fine. But don’t expect me to like it.”

Guldar’s gaze was unyielding, his voice calm but firm. “Your place is with the orcs. You can’t have it both ways—glory and the frontlines or mundane tasks. And right now, we need you to follow orders.”

Kragg gritted his teeth, struggling to keep my anger in check. “And what about the harpy?” Kragg snapped, gesturing toward Sora, who lay unconscious on the ground.

Guldar’s eyes flickered toward the fallen harpy, a calculating glint in his gaze. "We’ll take him with us. We’ve invested too much to leave him behind. Orders are orders.”

He turned away, his cloak billowing as he addressed the remaining orcs. “Get that harpy and bring him along. We’re done here.”

Kragg watched as the orcs moved quickly, gathering up Sora’s unconscious form with grim efficiency. The anger still burned within him, but he knew better than to defy Guldar openly. The warlock’s magic held its own kind of power, one I wasn’t eager to test.

As the orcs began to clear the area, I took one last look at the fallen harpy. There was a flicker of respect in his heart—he had fought bravely, despite being outmatched. It was a rare thing, to see such spirit in a young opponent even when he first heard of him back in the village.

I had no choice but to follow Guldar’s orders, for now. But as we left the battlefield behind, the memory of that fight, and the harpy who had nearly bested me, stayed with me. I would remember this moment, and when the time was right, I would find a way to reclaim my glory.