Nobody talked. All that was left of the battlefield was a group of orcs laying among the dead and dying, exhausted, desperately trying to catch their breath.

There were no celebrations. The chiefs kept their heads up to watch for any returning humans, but otherwise, they were simply statues mixed with the red mud.

Adam had laid next to the slain knight, a good distance away from the other warrior orcs. Looked at the headless corpse next to him, he felt a rush of emotions. There was the exhilaration of victory, the tremble that it could just as easily been him losing his head, and the guilt of being alive. Eventually, he recovered enough to painfully prop himself up on an elbow and look around.

By then, the chiefs had returned to a semblance of functionality and were moving around. Greenbough was talking to an orc from his camp and checking his injuries. Watching the conversation without registering the words spoken, Adam blinked when Greenbough lowered his head after a response from the warrior. Both orcs stopped talking and sat in silence.

In his head, a phrase that the chief often said popped up in Adam's head. The price of victory is heavy.

Adam suddenly felt ashamed and turned away. His eyes found the chief of his own camp. Chief Ironblood was slowly walking towards the part of the battlefield where just as many orc bodies laid with human bodies. It was where the support orcs had been slain. Without expression, the chief looked over the carnage. He said nothing.

Tilting his head towards the warrior orcs, Adam saw them starting to stand. As tired as they were, they held tightly to their weapons as they made their way across the battlefield. Absentmindedly, he took stock of what was held - a shield here, a spear there, a broken sword.

But no bows.

And suddenly Adam found the energy to get up. He reached to push himself off the ground, only to have a sudden lance of pain remind him of the wound in his shoulder. He rolled over to his other side to heft himself up and limped as fast he could back to the main group of warrior orcs.

The mud made things difficult and he nearly skidded into his squad. Max and Dax looked up at him, solemn. Luke did the same, but with something a bit extra behind his eyes.

He’s angry? Adam would have to figure out why, later, but right now, there were more important things.

“Dax. Where’s Sam?” Adam asked. Dax didn’t answer, he just looked down at the ground. Adam repeated the question, louder, to Max. The same silence. Max wouldn’t even meet his eyes, and finally Adam physically shook him by the shoulders, desperately trying to avoid the truth.

And then he finally saw the bow in the distance, by a prone orc who laid unmoving. His voice broke as he finally accepted the undeniable.

“How did it happen? How could you let it happen? ”

“He died,” Luke looked up, with the same dead look the others had in their eyes, but also tinged with something else. Hate, or maybe anger. Luke pulled his sword from the ground, looking at the blood and grime that covered the blade.

“And it wasn’t our fault. It was yours. Your formation killed him.”

—

During the battle, Luke had watched the last knight with little worry. They had already killed one and the supporting soldiers had been cowed. With both Max and Adam holding the front, the knight stood no chance.

And then Adam suddenly broke away. No real warning, no shared plan. He just left. And then disarmed himself. He incapacitated a knight, but what could he do after that, deep in the human ranks? And then instead of going to get his shield and rejoining the formation, he went to the chief.

When Luke had refocused his attention to the humans, he saw a glint in the remaining knight's eyes.

Luke paused. Adam had abandoned them. They never talked about situations where Adam was gone. Flashes of Adam's past came before Luke's eyes.

Adam had never thought that he was wrong. Adam had always thought that he could out-think older and more experienced orc warriors. Adam believed he could revolutionize warfare. Adam trusted his own judgement and that he was the best.

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The chief had disproved of him. Adam couldn't handle it. Then he lost in a fight to Luke - someone he had beat a hundred times, who had always accepted the losses with a smile - and he stormed off like a child.

And now, Adam was gone. Leaving the rest of his team to fight in the largest battle of their lives alone.

—

“Did you think that the rest of the soldiers would just leave us alone once you left?”

“I…”

“They didn’t. They closed in. We had one shield instead of two. We couldn’t break through their lines and move anymore. There were four of us, Adam. Four of us alone behind enemy lines, where you had taken us. And you just left.”

It was the longest that anyone had ever heard Luke speak at one time. Every word was drenched in anger.

—

Luke moved up into Adam’s space in the formation, and tried desperately to keep the formation moving forward. The humans started closing in and if the orcs were pinned down, they'd die.

For a while, it worked. The humans flinched with the memory of how the formation was capable of dealing raw death, and stayed out of the way as best they could. But only a short time passed before some of the humans realized that the formation was much easier to stop. Where once it steamrolled over obstacles, now it stalled.

The humans didn’t even have to set a trap. All they had to do was be brave. Two of their spearmen hit Max’s shield, hard. They stopped Max in his tracks. Luke moved in and dispatched one of the humans with a sword strike to the chest, but it was already too late. They had already lost their mobility.

By the time he noticed the human swordsman coming in from his left, it was already too late to do anything about it. He wheeled around and desperately tried to get his sword in position to block, but there just wasn’t any time. He was tough, but not tough enough to tank a full sword swing to the head.

And then, just before the sword should have hit, it veered off to the side, missing him completely. The human fell to the ground with a new arrow in his head. Luke turned to see Sam, grinning, “I got him! I guess you owe me…”

And then Luke saw a sword swing at Sam’s throat. It caught, slashing between his spine and neck.

There wasn’t a question of saving Sam. Nobody could survive that. Luke had to keep the others alive.

“Orcs!” Luke yelled. “Move!”

—

“He was never supposed to be there, Adam. Archers are supposed to stay away. He was always in the back once contact is made with enemy troops. He was supposed to be safe,” Luke spat. “He stayed with us because he thought you knew what you were doing. He trusted you. We trusted you.”

Luke glared at Adam a few moments before sheathing his sword and moving away. There wasn’t anything left to say, and Adam couldn’t find the words to respond anyway. Dax looked for a moment like he’d say something before closing his mouth and moving off.

“I… I think the formation saved us. We would have died there, surrounded by humans. And the formation let us break out,” Max paused. “But that was only when the formation didn’t break. You always told us that. You’d say ‘don’t break formation, no matter what, and remember your job.' We trained for that.” Max picked up his shield and strapped it across his back before turning to follow the others.

As he walked away, he whispered one last sentence, “So why did you leave?”

Trust is a fickle thing. Normally invisible, it now gripped his heart, slowly crushing the ability to breathe and think right out of him. He sunk to the ground, letting the mud splash over his wound. The grit worked its way into the cut, burning as it did. Adam was glad for the sting. It was a welcome distraction.

—

The camp was quiet that night.

Mealtime was once the life of the camp. Dozens of orcs would be shouting, laughing, or otherwise blowing off steam. Warrior orcs respected the support orcs and at meals, the camp was just one big family.

It was a symbiotic relationship. Active orcs consumed huge amounts of food and wore out training weapons and garments at an alarming pace. Warrior orcs ate with support orcs as equals. Without the support orcs gathering, hunting, and maintaining the camp, it was impossible to maintain a fighting force.

Now those same orcs were dead, and so was the camp. All that was left to gather around the fire were the two chiefs, Adam and his three remaining squad members, two warrior orcs from the camp, and Greenbough’s sole surviving subordinate.

As they sat, they gorged themselves. Food in the camp was no longer an issue for the next few days. What they couldn't stuff into packs or count on to resist spoilage was better off in their stomachs. Hopefully, it'd reduce the amount they’d need to eat over the coming days.

“Retreat is a given, Ironblood. You know that,” Greenbough was making another plea to the chief.

The chief grunted in response. At this point, it was a given. The camp couldn’t be held with a handful of orcs, especially against the new human numbers and tactics.

“If you seek revenge, we can raid human villages as we go. But staying here is suicide. We need to join with another camp. We need to reinforce them and warn them,” Greenbough said.

The chief sent a harsh glance towards Greenbough, and then gazed into the fire for a few moments.

“Orcs. Tomorrow we will leave the camp. Rest tonight, and pack whatever you need and can carry. We won’t be back any time soon.”

With that said, he went back to his tent. The rest of the orcs lingered a while, eating in silence and absorbing the heat from the fire. One by one, the orcs started to peel away. First, Greenbough and his remaining Orc, and then the few orc combatants left from the camp. Eventually, it was just Adam and his squad sitting there, waiting for someone to break the silence.

But nobody did. Eventually, Luke got up and moved away without a word. Max and Dax glanced at each other, and then at Adam. Adam had the same pose as the chief from a couple nights ago. He was staring into the fire and didn’t seem to notice the departures. They got up as quietly as they could and left.

And then it was just Adam, alone, with a rapidly dying flame and lost in thought.