The battlefield was a swirling mass of chaos, an inferno of blood and rage where the line between life and death blurred with each clash of weapons and roar of beasts.
The stench of blood, sweat, and fear hung heavy in the air, mixing with the acrid smoke from the fires that raged across the torn landscape.
Orcs, humans, and demonic beasts clashed in a brutal symphony of violence, each side driven by their own primal instincts—survival, vengeance, and the thirst for blood.
Carla, the Orc Chief, stood at the forefront of the battle, her eyes glowing with a fierce crimson light as the orc female chief wielded her cursed weapon with deadly precision.
The weapon, a twisted, grotesque blade imbued with literally unknown energy, pulsed with malevolent energy. Each swing of the blade left a trail of darkness in its wake, and wherever it struck, the curse took hold, forming grotesque female genitalia-like holes on her unfortunate victims.
