The zombies were slowed by their undead nature. As they reached the orcs, scything blades cut into the zombies’ unresisting flesh. Though they were cut to the bone, none of them fell to the ground. A moment after the zombies were struck, they attacked the living orcs with reckless abandon. Though their timing was poor, the zombies attacked with even more force than the orcs. Their deaths had removed the natural limitations that living creatures had when exerting their strength.

As the zombies attacked the orcs, any blow that made contact was lethal. A zombie’s club struck an orc in the midsection, causing that orc to spit half a liter of bright red blood and fly back three meters. The zombies made no move to defend themselves from the vicious onslaught of the monstrous tide.

They focused entirely on pulling their weapons back and striking at one of the many targets standing in front of them. Even the process of attacking harmed the zombies; they attacked with so much power that they tore their own muscles away from the bone with each strike.

Though each zombie was greater than each orc, the zombies were significantly outnumbered. The orcs quickly realized that single lethal strikes would not be enough to kill a zombie, so many of them gathered around each zombie and beat down on it until it stopped moving. It would take about five orcs working in concert for about thirty seconds to finally kill a zombie.

One by one, the zombies fell. Some were felled by a tide of green skin, and one was rendered unable to fight when its arm fell off after a particularly powerful attack.

“Mortua bestia, ad vitam!”

A few meters away from the battle, Beltane knelt next to a fallen orc. This one was much more damaged than the ones Beltane had already raised from the dead. Half of its body had been completely blackened by Hellfire, and one of its arms had been destroyed. Despite the damage, the orc shambled to its feet and stared dumbly at the ongoing battle.

“ᚥᛛᛐ ᚮᛊᚤ, ᛐᛊᛓ ᚮᛗᛔ!” Beltane shouted at the zombie, passing it a charred handaxe. In the back of my mind, I recognized the first half of Beltane’s statement. I had heard that phrase before. It was a line of dialogue used by orcs whenever they passed something to another orc. Beltane was speaking Dahk, the language of orcs and goblins.

I barely registered the battle as it was occurring, however. As Beltane knelt to raise another zombie, I could only think about the red light rising from the west. Something in that direction was on fire, and I wondered if it was Feldrast Manor.

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“I need to get to the manor,” I muttered dumbly to myself, though the sound was drowned out by the screaming of orcs and the sound of steel cutting through flesh. “I need to protect them. I need to protect her.”

I tried to move toward the manor as fast as I could, but it was as if I was moving in slow motion. Everything on the battlefield moved much faster than me. I was merely a slow child surrounded by adults moving at full speed. From my seven-year-old perspective, they moved like speeding cars.

From my peripheral vision, I perceived a blur of green approaching from the side. I turned and saw a lone orc charging in my direction. It was only a few meters from me, and its sword was raised high in the air. I had three, maybe four, seconds before it would kill me.

In the half-second I had to respond to the threat, I raised my hand to the orc and considered my options: [Shield] or [Hellfire]. I could stop the orc in its tracks with [Shield], but that would not solve the problem. Conjuring a Shield would merely buy me an extra second or two. The orc would strike the shield before going around and hitting me from another angle.

No, [Hellfire] was my only option. I had to put the orc down if I was going to survive. I gritted my teeth as a mote of Hellfire appeared in my palm. My healing potential would simply have to take the hit. As I prepared to bathe the orc in a river of flame, the problem before me was solved.

There was a bright silver light and a sharp breeze. A blade of concentrated air struck the orc hard in the chest, and its approach towards me was altered. With a great gash in its chest, the orc fell at my feet, and I was sprayed in foul-smelling orcish blood.

“Pay attention, Thale!” Beltane shouted at me as he entered my view. “Now is not the time to be zoning out!”

“B-but,” I said, looking at the fire rising in the west, “I need to get to my family.”

With the immediate threat dispensed, my thoughts once more went into turmoil. Despite the imminent danger to me and Beltane, I simply couldn’t focus. Perhaps it was because of my lack of experience. Perhaps it was because of my child’s brain. All I could focus on was the danger the rest of my family was in.

“We’ll get to Feldrast Manor, I promise!” Beltane grabbed my shoulder and roughly shook me. “But first we need to save ourselves!”

As Beltane spoke, only two of his zombies were still standing. By the time his sentence was over, it was clear that one of the zombies would be non-functional in seconds.

“O-okay,” I said, trying my hardest to focus on the situation. “What do you need me to do?”

“Focus on defense while I focus on offense,” Beltane said, releasing my shoulder and returning to his feet. “Luckily for us, orcs are terrified of fire. Move your Hellfire close to them, and they’ll back away. You won’t have to burn any of them.”

“Okay,” I said. I just had to survive this fight, I told myself. After this, I would go to Feldrast Manor, and help protect my family. Yes, yes. Walter was with them. Sir Walter would be able to deal with a few orcs. They would be fine, I was sure of it. At least, that’s what I told myself.