May 3rd.
The border between the Eastern Province and the northern part of Karl Plains.
Scarlet Fortress.
Fierce shouts of killing soared to the heavens.
The walls, covered in blood and the remnants of corpses, saw the numerically superior orcs roaring as they charged at the human soldier formations.
Dense volleys of crossbow arrows flew from behind the legion's formations, pinning dozens or even hundreds of orc warriors to the ground.
More than one-third of the orc warriors died under the barrage of crossbow arrows before even making contact with the enemy.
The deaths of their comrades did not instill fear in these orc warriors.
The two sides collided fiercely, fighting to the death.
The Legion soldiers were well-equipped and well-trained.
The orc soldiers were countless, holding a numerical advantage.
Both sides were seeing red, exchanging blow for blow—brains splattering out was literal, not figurative.
