“Sangre, don’t leave that wand-wielding idiot alone for a second!”
When Nafız saw the person who started to cast magic on the machine, she understood the situation. Having unraveled the mentality of these eternal enemies, Nafız was also familiar with attack rituals.
The person who would cast the spell had to see the boundaries of the targeted area with their eyes and visualize it in their soul and release the attack in this way. There could only be one reason why the mage had made himself a target out of the war machine he had been hiding from since the beginning of the war.
In this short time of many events, he had descended on the battlefield with his troops in Alyon and gave his first command to the orcs who were looking at him.
“Commander of the warriors, take your troops and stand watch over the war fugitives. The slightest display of mercy will not go unpunished!”
Butcher Haydo, taking his friends, whom he had escaped from the clutches of death, and his warriors, who were waiting for them, started walking to where the war fugitives were.
“Brutal Wall, you take the front with your warriors!”
“As you command, Chief!”
The burly warriors, advancing with their giant shields, followed the orc with the lion’s head on it, moving towards the front of the defense while the Nikonian troops attacked started.
When Alyon looked back and saw the great warships being brought to the front by the orcs, he gave his command.
“All troops attack!”
The Nikonia soldiers, who raised their shields against the arrows filling the sky and continued to charge, began to scream from the pain they felt in their bodies. The soldiers, who thought they were invulnerable with their purple alloy shields and armor that steel-tipped arrows could not pierce, saw the arrows that took their lives by ignoring their equipment for the first time.
“Dimitri overpriced these arrows, but now they look pretty good, don’t they?
Nafız was looking at Alyon, who was strolling beside her and was interpreting their shopping results with the merchant.
“Never mind the arrows and all that; what I’m inquisitive about is how you did not kill that wizard until now.”
Alyon started laughing when he saw an arrow hitting the shield of the mage’s encircled bodyguards as he pointed to Adhemar, who was standing on top of the war machine.
“You are like a mother who gives up her pleasures for her baby to become stronger. I am very touched right now!”
Speaking with laughter, Alyon did not stop laughing even when bent over by the kick he received in the stomach and walked away from Nafız.
Nafız had given Sangre the job of dealing with the mage, but she had to stay on guard. She knew very well that at the slightest mishap, even if she could save her own life, but thousands of orcs would die. She was constantly within the firing range, observing Adhemar’s movements while wondering what path her disciple would take.
The steel-headed arrow struck the shield, releasing a tiny spark, and fell to the ground. The mage’s eyes were wide open as he was a target, even though they were well out of firing range.
“Sir, don’t worry! As long as we’re here, no one can hurt you.”
Adhemar was a very cautious personality. Along with many war machines, he had hired a bodyguard consisting of four upper-class soldiers from the Mercenaries.
Armed with high-level equipment like his own, the moment the team captain finished speaking, blood-splattered by an arrow that entered his eyes and came out from the back of his head, splashed on the mage.
While the person’s blood to whom he entrusted his life was soaking his face, the magician fell to his knees in shock and abandoned his magic. Adhemar, whose other three bodyguards fell to the ground with arrows, threw himself into the war machine.
“Damn, what kind of archer is this? His arrows pierce high-level defensive equipment like paper.”
Adhemar was having a minor nervous breakdown inside the vehicle; while Sangre waited, his bow taut as per his master’s orders.
Today, all his plans had gone awry, and he was even forced to retract from his bold decision. Meanwhile, the troops that had been driven into battle as pawns to be spent as per his plan had reached the ranks of the orcs and were waging a bloody war on the front.
Brutal Wall was excited as he stood at the end of his wall, which unlike usual, was formed into an inverted V, with his shield in his hand. Having maximized his equipment, whose dimensions he could control, the orc had taken most of the blows in the first collision.
Remembering the first days they had returned to the tribe from the reward dungeon at the height of the war’s tension, Brutal Wall was mentally traveling back in time.
Brutal Wall, who garnered attention with its huge shield, was surprised at what happened when shields made of tortoiseshell were handed out to the warriors. Given the disdainful gaze, it was inevitable that the orcs with larger shields would battle with one of them.
While the two orcs could not damage the shields with their steel weapons, they would inflict countless blows on each other. When the orcs who witnessed the struggle began to question the ancestral grace, Brutal Wall was starting to realize something.
“Captain! Enough enemies have gathered in front of you; what are you waiting for?”
Returning to the present at the warning of his subordinate, Brutal Wall began to make that fight-ending move. At the same time, the warriors behind him paid attention to see the perfection of their ancestral grace once again.
“Come on, my lion; let this square shake with your roar!”
Concluding his words, Brutal Wall unleashed a sound attack from the mouth of the lion relief on his shield, which accumulated the energies of his blows. On that day, Nikonia soldiers, who were not as lucky as the orc whose tortoiseshell was shattered into pieces, would not be able to prevent their bodies from falling apart as a result of the attack.
Spreading out in a conical form, the attack smashed everything in its path, reaching deep into the enemy front and engraved its roar in the hearts of all people. After the attack, which took the lives of hundreds of people, Nikonia soldiers were hesitant to attack or not, as they witnessed the disastrous end of their friends.
Seizing this brief moment of hesitation, Alyon shouted at the Nikonian soldiers.
“Human warriors, you are here for a war that is not yours! If you drop your weapons now and surrender, I will spare your lives.”
The orc warriors stopped attacking while the soldiers paused for a while, thinking about the blood-chilling sound they had heard while in the superior hand.
No matter how angry Alyon was due to the torture of Butcher Haydo and his warriors, he did not want Nikonia, which he already had, to weaken. Otherwise, it would take a long time to make up for the loss of each soldier, as humans have a much more extended growth period than orcs.
The human warriors, who also lost the archer units that supported them due to the catapult shots, did not refuse this offer when they fell into a dead end. Dropping their weapons, the soldiers clasped their hands on their necks and fell on their knees, accepting their fate.
This movement, which started with a few soldiers, spread in waves throughout the army, and everyone surrendered, except for a few who remained standing due to astonishment. When these unfortunate persons were finished with their function of targeting orc archers, a troop emerging from inside the shield wall began to collect the weapons on the ground.
When Adhemar saw the Nikonia commanders next to him get out of the vehicle, mingle with the soldiers, and kneel, he hardly convinced himself that this war was over. As he walked calmly through the surrendered crowd, he spoke, looking to the orc side.
“Looks like one of you knows a little bit about me!”
Considering that he was attacked while preparing to cast a spell, Adhemar, realizing that there were people in the enemy ranks who knew he was a magician, stopped walking when he reached the middle of the square and continued his speech.
“You won the war today, congratulations! If you promise to leave the city of Nikonia alone, you have to work with some people to save your liv…..”
“You bastards will never change no matter how many generations pass, right?
Interrupting the mage, Nafız sat on the shield wall, swinging her legs, rolling her eyes as if looking at an insect as she watched the young mage speaking.
“How dare you insult my ancestors, you filthy barbarian, do you know who I am?”
Adhemar lost his composure at what he heard as he continued his arrogant speech.
“Had I known your ancestor, I would have taken the necessary action so that he did not have such an incompetent grandson?”
When Nafız made a scissors sign with her index and middle fingers, the orcs burst into laughter that shook the sky.
“Judging that you’re pushing so hard for a field magic that’s a hundred feet in diameter, it’s easy to see that you’re an errand dude.”
The young mage began to speak in panic as he stared in disbelief at the orc, who had told the type of attack he was trying to do, all the way down to the area of effect.
“I understand that you are familiar with us. You also know that if I don’t come back alive, my master will come and destroy your tribe in one move!”
Putting forward his master as his last trump card, Adhemar spoke without knowing that he would experience the moment when his hopes would fade once again.
“One for you, two for your master! We are not challenging his regiment here, but his king!”
Understanding nothing of what was said, the young mage, seeing from the tone of his speech that his threat was useless, stifled his inner fear and cried out.
“Come on then, let’s see if you’re skilled enough to duel me one-on-one.”
Nafız, who started to laugh with joy after Adhemar’s words, applauded him simultaneously.
When she cleared the last trump of the person standing in front of her, she put her blood-curdling grin on her face and pointed her index finger towards the enemy.
“Sangre, this is your final test. Prove to me that you can fight by my side!”
“As you command, master!”
The psychological warfare had already begun when the young mage’s eyes met with the orc that had arrived in the middle of the battlefield. Everyone was removed from an area within a hundred paces, and an arena was created where two people could fight freely.
Two small balls of fire rushed towards Sangre as the mage, whose wand appeared in his hand, made the first attack. Nafız, who had the chance to see the wand up close, laughed and muttered as her student easily survived the attack.
“A wand with a ruby magic stone; I think you’re cleaning up Joffrey’s leftovers.”
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People are like numbers; they gain value according to their situation.
Napoleon Bonaparte
