Let There Be Massacre (3)
The Humian soldiers had been fleeing while dragging their legs, which refused to detach at first. But once those legs began to move, they ran with astonishing endurance. Many had soiled their pants with urine that reeked, yet even as the soaked fabric clung wetly to their thighs, their sprint never faltered. The thunderous roars echoing behind them whipped their escape onward.
The vibrations rang so fiercely they stung the eardrums. Explosions shook the ground as though an earthquake had struck. That overwhelming aftermath, like the remnants of a natural disaster, meant the annihilation of the magic-powered siege engines with every passing moment. Soon all the magic-powered siege engines would be reduced to ash, and what followed would be nothing less than a calamity—the maid would descend upon them.
The alloy armor they had firmly believed even a hellfire demon could not scratch tore apart with ridiculous ease. The all-out bombardment they had trusted to pulverize an impregnable fortress proved no more than a gentle breeze. The mana ray cannons they had believed capable of destroying all creation merely sliced through empty air. Their complacent faith, blind and devoid of will or conviction, had finally come knocking with the promised price of ruin. The Humian soldiers clutched the bolt of attachment to life and the lock of deathly fear, bolting the door shut. In the end, the only path left to them was to flail legs slower than deer frolicking in a meadow and stumble away in a frantic scramble. Even a blind man could see how flimsy their bolt and lock truly were.
“Aaaah……”
The fastest soldiers at the front halted, faces blank with despair. Those behind them, who had been thinking only of pushing past to run farther, one by one wore the same expression and stopped in their tracks. Nothing but hollow emptiness bloomed on their faces; even the simple will born of survival instinct began to drain away.
The only means of escape, the desperate goal they had clung to—the transport vehicle, the Rhino. They had believed it the sole way to flee this hellish battlefield, so they had whipped their sluggish legs onward, thinking only of reaching it. At last they arrived at the waiting area, yet the problem was what stood in front of the Rhinos.
“So you have come, vile creatures.”
Orcs clad in fearsome weapons and sturdy steel armor. Massive ogres with thick, tough hides and boulder-like muscles. They stood guarding the Rhinos, waiting for the Humian soldiers. The orc army formed an immaculate line, radiating majestic presence. The ogre tribe warriors swelled their powerful muscles, breathing heavily as they displayed their fierce fighting spirit. One orc at the forefront spoke quietly to the Humian soldiers.
He was an orc with a thin, curled mustache and a neatly trimmed goatee. Even among orcs he boasted a considerable frame, standing nearly three hundred mentol tall, his imposing aura so overwhelming it was terrifying to approach. Especially his weapon and armor: a massive battle axe engraved with a skull whose jaws gaped as though screaming in agony, and heavy black full-plate armor bristling with sharp spikes. Merely drawing near felt like the only future was to become a mangled lump of meat.
“Huuuup!!!”
Kiiiii!!Kwaaaaddddddddeuk!!!!
The pressure from the giant orc in the skull-emblazoned battle axe and black spiked armor had paralyzed the Humian soldiers, but the sight that followed—the ogre’s majesty—made their legs give out completely. An ogre nearly six hundred mentol tall was crushing a Rhino with both arms. Simply hugging it caused the massive metal transport to crumple with a horrendous screech before shattering into countless parts and debris, reduced to scrap.
“Hmph!!!”
Thudooooooom!!!
The Humian soldiers were already horrified that a vehicle capable of carrying forty men had been destroyed in an instant, yet the ogre went further, slamming his fist into the ground. The impact from that fist of flesh and bone produced a vibration so heavy it was impossible to believe it came from mere flesh. The tremor, nearly an earthquake, was enough to drop the already weakened Humians to their knees. If they had to take that fist with their own bodies… the thought alone was horrifying. Before that colossal fist, the Humian soldiers had no confidence they could even maintain their original shape, let alone survive. They could only see a future where they were flattened into bloody pulp against the earth.
The orcs radiating deadly pressure and the ogres displaying overwhelming presence—these were Veryberry Beck Begrit and Oun.
“Hear me, valiant soldiers! Proud warriors!”
Veryberry glared at the Humian soldiers ahead, yet his powerful cry was directed at the orc army and ogre tribe warriors. That majestic shout raised his allies’ morale while instilling fear in the enemy.
“Here stand the creatures who have driven Terraris toward ruin for their twisted ambitions! Here stand the creatures who sought to stain Caboni Forest with blood for their filthy greed!”
The orc army stood motionless, silent. Yet within their thick helmets burned fierce fighting spirit and conviction, their eyes shining brightly. The ogre tribe warriors exhaled rough breaths, radiating a menacing aura as though they might charge at any moment. Yet deep in their eyes, beneath the ferocious hostility, shone goodwill and pride.
“Unleash upon the enemy the rage we have suppressed for a thousand years!! Avenge the countless victims!! Spill the blood of the wicked and establish justice!! The Goddess of Luina stands with us—victory alone awaits!!!”
A brief silence followed the heated speech. In the chilling stillness before the storm, the Humians felt their hearts crushed by pressure while the orcs and ogres felt their hearts pounding with exhilaration. The emotions of those who would summon the storm and those who would be swept into it were utterly opposed.
“We think of only one thing!!”
Veryberry quietly raised his battle axe. The skull emblem with its gaping maw seemed especially prominent. The blue-tinged axe blade felt especially cold.
“Today… we shall create hell!!!!!”
“Charge!!!!!”
Waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Veryberry’s final word marked the end of the speech. It was a roar bursting forth from boiling passion. Following Veryberry’s roar came Oun’s order to charge. It was the grand signal announcing the start of war. With the battlefield’s thunderous battle cries, the orc army and ogre tribe warriors began their assault. Their conviction—to protect comrades and shield the weak—possessed such power that even the fear of death could not take root. They simply charged forward, displaying the justice they believed in and the pride they held.
“Stop standing there like idiots and shoot!! What are you afraid of when they only have swords and axes!!”
“B-but… if we fire now, the Rhinos in their rear might get hit!!”
“Is this the time to worry about that, you fool!!! If you die now, there won’t be any Rhinos left!! Shoot!! Fire at everything!! If you want to live, then shoot!!!”
The Humian commander, overwhelmed by the orcs and ogres and momentarily speechless, only regained his composure upon hearing the magnificent battle cries echoing across the field. His adjutant pleaded earnestly, concerned for the Rhinos—their only means of retreat and lifeline—but the commander’s decision was absolute. His bloodshot eyes glared at the adjutant with unyielding resolve. His orders, shouted with the intensity of spitting blood, carried ironclad finality. The commander feared one obvious truth: against three-hundred-mentol orcs and five-hundred-mentol ogres, the frail Humian bodies, not even two hundred mentol tall, were no different from worthless scarecrows. If the ranged-armed Humians allowed the massive orcs and ogres to close the distance, the result would be a one-sided massacre.