Meanwhile, in the Orc side, Volk paced back and forth, his massive frame radiating an aura of frustration.
The mission.
It was ticking away like a war drum in his head.
Twenty minutes had already slipped through his fingers, and nothing had been achieved.
Every second that passed without progress gnawed at him.
Volk knew that if the system gave him a time limit, something catastrophic would follow.
There was no room for failure.
He had forty minutes left.
Suddenly, his crimson eyes scanned the battlefield, narrowing as they settled on a distant building.
Behind the crumbling walls, he could see the flicker of hope in the humans' eyes—especially the younger ones, teenage kids who still clung to the belief that the fast Pillars would save them.
That hope... it gave him an idea.
Without wasting another second, Volk raised his voice, deep and guttural, to address his warband.
