The moon cast a dim glow over the wreckage, its light barely penetrating to the carnage within. The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay, the battlefield littered with corpses—some human, most not.
Caius clenched his sword, his hand shaking, his breath coming in gasps. The twelve remaining soldiers sat in silence, their eyes hollow, their flesh battered. They had fought for days, retreating inch by inch, holding on by sheer willpower. But will could only carry them so far.
And out in the darkness, the creatures waited.
The twisted orcs stalked the ruins like wolves, their deformed bodies twitching with hunger. They had learned patience. They knew their prey was weak. It was only a matter of time before they struck.
Caius exhaled slowly, his grip on his sword hilt tightening as a deep weariness took hold in his bones. He knew it was over. His body screamed for rest, but death would not take them so easily.
Then the orcs began to disappear.
Not with a bang. Not with cries. But silently. Their gleaming eyes blinked—and then were lost to the dark. The remaining orcs snorted in perplexity, sniffing the air. The scent of human blood was thick, but another scent had mingled with it.
Something unnatural.
Then, it began.
A distant shriek. A wet crunch. The thud of something heavy on the earth. One of the orcs snarled and turned—just in time to see a flash of black dive down upon its brother.
One sword stroke.
A head fell to the earth.
The other orcs wheeled wildly, their beady eyes searching the shadows for the unseen killer. The humans, too weak to stand, barely registered the commotion.
Then, from above—a voice.
"What's wrong? You were so eager for battle before."
From the ruined tower, one figure emerged. A dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. His golden eyes burned like hot coals, fastened on the horde below with terrifying intensity.
Leorion Von Lionheart had arrived.
Caius' breath caught. His eyes swam with exhaustion, but he knew that face. It was unmistakable. His brother.
"Leo…?"
Leo did not rush into battle. He prowled like a predator in the night. The orcs, confused and rattled, began to snarl and spread out, searching for him.
Too late.
He struck from out of the night, weaving between them like a specter. His sword flashed, quick and ruthless. The Kinglion Tempest Sword Art ran through him, his sword a storm of ruthless efficiency.
A severed limb. A pierced throat. A quiet death.
The monsters were perplexed. They had fought humans before. Humans screamed. Humans ran away in terror. Humans fought with brute strength or foolish bravery.
But this one? This human was different.
He did not fight like a man.
He moved like a demon.
Among the wreckage, Caius was able to stand, his legs hardly holding him up. "What… what is happening out there?"
Commander Halbrecht, still clutching the stump of his cut-off arm, whispered, "A miracle."
The soldiers, too exhausted to talk, could only watch.
Leo had killed the orcs with terrifying precision. But there were too many left. And the greatest horror had yet to move.
The Orc King.
Still seated on his throne of rock, the monster watched. Unlike the others, it did not act in senseless rage. It was waiting. Watching. Thinking.
Leo, amidst a sea of corpses, locked eyes with the monster.
Then, not looking away, he turned towards the ruins and roared, "Caius! Commander! Get everyone and go, now!"
Caius staggered forward. "What?! No! We're not going to leave you behind!"
Leo's eyes hardened to steel. "You're too exhausted to fight, and these men aren't going to survive another wave. I'll hold them off. You must go!"
The commander clenched his teeth. "We're soldiers, boy. We don't leave our own behind!"
Leo drew a sharp breath, moving closer to them. "You will not be leaving me behind. I'll follow. But if you don't leave, you all die."
Caius stared into his brother's unwavering golden eyes. There was no fear there. Only cold, calculated determination.
"Damn it." Caius muttered under his breath. He whirled to the commander. "Get everyone moving. Now!"
Halbrecht hesitated for only a moment before barking orders. The soldiers, wounded and weary, began to retreat through the broken ruins, their steps sluggish but determined.
Caius gave Leo one last look. "You better not die, little brother."
Leo smirked. "You think I'm that easy to kill?"
And then, as his brother disappeared into the shadows, Leo turned back toward the battlefield.
The Orc King finally rose.
And the battlefield trembled.