The battlefield had become a blur of chaos, but Ashar's eyes were locked on the massive Orc general. Gorn was cutting through his men like they were nothing, but Ashar could see the exhaustion on the beast's face. He was a force of nature, but even he had limits.
"Rylah," Ashar muttered under his breath. "It's now or never."
Ashar's breath came in ragged gasps as he surveyed the battlefield. The stronghold's outer defenses were collapsing, the night sky illuminated by firelight and the chaos of battle. Every clang of steel and desperate cry of pain echoed through his mind. There was no turning back now.
In the center of it all stood Gorn, a giant of an Orc, his obsidian armor glinting with blood and moonlight. Each swing of his massive axe left a trail of carnage. Around him, Ashar's soldiers fell like wheat before a scythe.
"Hold the line!" Ashar roared, his voice cracking but resolute. His gaze darted to Rylah, perched high on the eastern wall with her bow drawn, eyes locked on Gorn. She had one chance—just one—to bring down the monster.
He fought his way through the chaos, cutting down an Orc that lunged at him with a guttural snarl. His muscles burned, his body pushed to the brink, but he forced himself forward. He had to buy Rylah time.
***
Darius appeared at his side, blood streaking his face, his armor dented. "We can't hold them back much longer!" he shouted, blocking an incoming strike and countering with a swift thrust.
Ashar's mind raced. We can't fail now. "We have to. Rylah's our only shot at taking Gorn down. If we lose here, there's nowhere left to run."
Darius's eyes flicked to the eastern wall, doubt flickering across his face. "What if she misses?"
Ashar didn't answer. He couldn't. The weight of that possibility was too much to bear. Instead, he pressed forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. His soldiers were counting on him, but deep down, he wondered how much more they could endure.
"This isn't just a battle," he muttered, almost to himself. "It's our last stand. We can't give in to fear now."
Darius gave a grim nod. "Then let's make it count."
***
On the wall, Rylah's fingers trembled as she nocked the arrow. Her eyes never left Gorn, but doubt whispered in her mind. He's too strong… too fast…
She gritted her teeth. No. Focus.
The world around her faded—the battle, the screams, the chaos—all that mattered was the target.
This is for everyone who died because of them.
She took a deep breath, steadied her aim, and released.
The arrow flew straight and true, cutting through the air toward Gorn. Time seemed to slow as it approached him. But at the last second, Gorn turned, the arrow glancing off his shoulder plate.
"No," Rylah whispered, horror dawning in her eyes.
***
Gorn's roar of rage shook the battlefield. He locked eyes with Rylah, raising his axe high. "You think that's enough to kill me, little human?" His voice boomed, dripping with malice.
He started moving toward the wall, crushing anyone in his path. Ashar saw it happening, dread twisting his gut. "Rylah! Get down from there!"
But Rylah stood frozen, her mind racing. I missed. I failed. The weight of it crushed her. How many would die because of her mistake?
Ashar pushed through the crowd, desperation driving him. "Darius! Cover me!"
Together, they carved a path through the chaos, but Gorn was faster. He reached the base of the wall, driving his axe into the stone, shaking it to its foundations.
Rylah stumbled, barely keeping her footing. She scrambled to nock another arrow, but Gorn was already climbing, each pull of his massive arms tearing the wall apart.
He's going to kill her. The thought burned in Ashar's mind. He couldn't let it happen. Not after everything.
"Rylah!" he screamed, but the words were lost in the roar of battle.
***
Just as Gorn reached the top, a figure appeared beside Rylah—Karis. She had climbed the wall unnoticed, her spear at the ready.
"Karis, no!" Rylah shouted, but Karis didn't hesitate. She launched herself at Gorn, her spear striking true, piercing a gap in his armor.
Gorn roared, swatting her aside like an insect. She hit the wall with a sickening crack, her body crumpling to the ground.
Rylah's scream pierced the night. "No!"
Ashar reached the top just in time to see it happen, his heart shattering. Karis had been one of their strongest, one of their best. And she had given everything to protect them.
Gorn turned his gaze to Ashar, a cruel smile twisting his features. "Your people are weak, human. Just like you."
Ashar's grip tightened on his sword, rage boiling in his veins. "We're stronger than you'll ever know."
The two clashed, sword against axe, strength against strength. Ashar knew he was outmatched—Gorn was a force of nature, each strike enough to shatter bone. But he fought with everything he had, each blow fueled by the memory of those who had fallen.
"You think you can win this war?" Gorn sneered, pressing Ashar back. "You're nothing but insects, scurrying in the dirt."
Ashar gritted his teeth, blocking a heavy strike that sent him to his knees. "Maybe. But even insects can bite."
He feinted left, then struck low, his blade finding a weak spot in Gorn's armor. The Orc bellowed, staggering back.
Rylah, tears streaming down her face, saw the opening. She drew her last arrow, whispering a silent prayer. This is for Karis.
The arrow flew, embedding itself deep in Gorn's throat. He staggered, eyes wide with shock.
Ashar didn't hesitate. He drove his sword into the Orc's heart, twisting it for good measure.
Gorn fell, the ground shaking beneath him.
"..."
The battlefield fell silent, the remaining Orcs staring in disbelief. Without their leader, their morale broke. They began to retreat, leaving the stronghold in ruins but standing.
Ashar collapsed to his knees, exhaustion overtaking him. Rylah approached, tears in her eyes.
"We did it," she whispered.
But Ashar's heart was heavy. They had won, but at what cost?