The Savage Land of Greenfall
The orc chieftain bellowed as he watched the ominous mana pour in over the main gate.
I could not understand his words, yet the scene that followed let me grasp at least a fragment of their meaning.
Orcs of strange attire began to step forward ahead of those armed with cold steel—swords and spears. They wore thick robes and adorned themselves with ornaments fashioned from the remains of every sort of monster. Each of them carried a long staff, its tip crowned with a monster’s skull.
"Ka kuda!"
The orcs who looked like shamans swung their staves and stamped their feet. From deep within the city a massive drumbeat rolled out.
Boom—! Boom—! Boom—! The majestic sound shook every bone in my body, and my heart began to pound in time with the drums.
Pure mana spilled from the shamans’ hands, mingling with the drumbeats until it blanketed everyone inside the city.
My vision narrowed; my breathing turned ragged. Only then did I realize what the orc shamans had done.
They had cast a magic that forced every living soul in the city into a state of frenzied excitement.
I was not the only one affected. Nightmare, who carried me, seemed just as inflamed—his mane flared out to either side while his tail lashed like a whip.
Pruuh—!
Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!
The drums grew louder, and emotion surged higher, as though heralding the great storm about to break.
The moment the mana-laced drumbeats collided with the ominous mana—
KWAANG—!
A blast like a bomb exploding tore through the air, and the tightly shut main gate shattered to pieces.
At the same instant the orcs’ war cries erupted.
Whether they belonged to the gray orcs or to the red orcs who had smashed through the gate, I could not tell. The two sides’ roars had already tangled beyond any hope of telling friend from foe.
In time with the thunder of my heart the great drums crashed once more—Kwang—!
That sound was the signal.
Both armies of orcs charged straight at each other.
Footfalls that shook the earth, war cries that tore the air. The instant the clash of steel on steel jolted my senses awake, the chieftain standing beside me lunged forward.
"Kalse!!! Toha!!!"
The chieftain’s enormous shout naturally drew the other orcs after him; several gray orcs closed ranks at his side. Their charge toward the red orcs looked like moths diving into flame, yet there was not a shred of hesitation in their stride.
I spun the circle in my heart and forced the excitement from my body. Fierce excitement was a fine thing for forgetting fear and pain, but without an orc’s rugged frame I would lose my head in an instant if I surrendered to it.
"Huu…"
A low breath escaped me, and pure-white frost poured out with it. The cold chill cooled my head; the hammering of my heart began to settle. As my narrowed vision returned to normal I finally had room to take in the whole battlefield.
Orc blood—vivid red—soaked the dull crimson wasteland. Stripped of fear and pain, the orcs charged even after an arm had been hewn away. No arm? Then the legs. No legs? Then the mouth.
A pair of bloodshot orc eyes drifted through the air and locked with mine.
The moment we recognized each other, the fight began.
Nightmare’s stamping, as if he had been waiting for combat with orcs, traveled up through the saddle. An instant later the orc charged.
The brute stood a full two meters tall and swung a greatsword as large as himself. The heavy blade ripped the air, producing a sound like a swarm of bees in flight.
Buuung—!
The attack was weighty but lacked edge. Nightmare simply sidestepped and let it slide harmlessly past. The wide swing left the orc’s upper body completely exposed.
Nightmare’s movement was perfect—he even dipped his shoulders a little, giving me the ideal angle to strike. No preparatory motion was needed. The instant I had registered the orc’s gaze, my mana circle was already spinning, drawing forth a blade of starlight.
My sword flashed, leaving a trail of starlight in its wake, and Nightmare surged forward.
Seogeok—!
A crisp sensation reached my fingertips; I had to ready the next attack at once. There was no time to admire the orc’s end behind me.
Enemies on every side. The red orcs used their overwhelming numbers to pour in without end. I swung my sword and urgently drew fresh mana. The moment the circle spinning in my heart shaped starlight mana, ten points of starlight rose around me and shot toward the orcs approaching from the opposite direction.
Of the ten missiles I loosed, only four struck home. The accuracy was pathetic, yet it was enough to check the orcs’ charge for a heartbeat.
Seogeok—!
A heartbeat was all I needed. I severed the neck of the nearest orc and in the same motion swept my blade the other way. Nightmare, reading my intent, immediately plunged toward a new foe.
The orc that had taken four Magic Missiles full in the face was bleeding, its teeth shattered. I drove my sword straight into the center of that face.
Kwaduk!
Even as it was struck, the orc—stripped of fear and pain—swung its weapon. The instant the focus vanished from its bloodshot eyes, a sharp spear came flying for my chest.
Both hands gripped my sword; my waist was coiled for the strike. Nightmare himself was mid-leap, his stance unstable. There was no dodging. A true life-or-death moment.
Yet before the spear could touch my breast, a faint wind burst forth—Paat—! and deflected its path.
Pik—!
The spear grazed my shoulder, leaving a deep gouge in the ogre-hide pauldron. Had it struck bare flesh square on, my ribs would have shattered.
Nightmare, belatedly sensing the danger, kicked the orc with the sword still buried in its skull and sent it flying.
Overall the battle was going badly. The gray orcs fought well enough, but red orcs kept flooding endlessly through the broken gate.
I frowned and yanked Nightmare’s reins. Understanding at once, he galloped up the side of a building. From the high ground I could take in the entire field at a glance. I followed the ominous mana that coiled around the red orcs’ bodies.
That mana—something between the red of orc skin and the sinister power of a dark mage—led outside the gate. At its end stood a single orc dressed much like the gray shamans, save for one difference: a thick book rested in his left hand.
I frowned, running through every spell I could cast. To deal with him I would have to close the distance, yet I had no confidence I could weather the endless tide of red orcs.
I needed something new—a magic that could strike many foes at once.
The starlight of my inner world spun faster. Each tiny star was a mage living another life. They showed me countless spells—powerful, dazzling, and utterly absurd. But I could not yet wield magic strong enough to end a world or summon planets drifting through the void.
Something smaller. Something realistic that I could actually use.
In that moment a tiny spark of lightning leapt across my inner world.
Pajijik—
The blue lightning triggered a chain reaction. Countless mages rose before my mind’s eye, and I began to imagine and construct the method of the spell. What I needed was a vivid image. Of all the lightning burned into my memory, the most recent was the Thunder Bird that had appeared with the storm clouds.
The rapidly spinning mana circle slowly began to change its nature. The moment the whirring note—Kiiing—mingled with the crackle of sparks, a colossal thunderbolt crashed down upon it.
I had always wondered why the mages of this world needed such long preparation for their spells. Now I understood. That long preparation was the time required to alter the very nature of their mana.
Kurururung—!
A rough rotational roar only I could hear spread through my entire body. Pajijik— seven stars wreathed in lightning rose above the sword in my hand.
What I needed was a fierce image—an intense vision of the phenomenon this magic would create. When the mystery of my desire sank into the mana, the starlight began to transform into blue thunderbolts. What took clear shape in my hand was a single completed spell.
"Chain Lightning."
Kwarururung!
The instant I spoke the name and thrust out my hand, a massive bolt of lightning shot forth. The blue thunderbolt swallowed everything in its path and leapt onward in a chain.
Pajijijijijik—!
In a single stroke more than ten orcs collapsed. They were not dead, but their bodies were paralyzed; they lay twitching on the ground, unable to rise.
I immediately loosed another bolt.
Kwarung—!
Lightning leapt from my fingertips again, chaining outward, and another dozen orcs toppled.
At last the surrounding red orcs began to notice me. Stripped of fear they charged, yet none could reach me while blue lightning coiled around my body.
Kwarururung—!
This time both hands. I hurled thunderbolts left and right at the orcs closing in. The long blue lightning lit the whole area; the orcs that had been sprinting from either side crumpled mid-stride.
A few gray orcs were caught in the chain because I could not distinguish friend from foe, but this was no time to quibble over such trifles.
I gasped for breath and frowned. Judging by the mana I had left, I could fire Chain Lightning two or three more times at most.
"Toha!!!"
At that moment the gray chieftain let out a rough roar. The gray orcs who had been staring blankly at the spectacle snapped out of their daze and began to race along the path I had carved. The chieftain, driving his subordinates ahead, gestured toward me.
Language failed us, yet his body language was clear enough.
I spurred Nightmare and galloped after the gray orcs.