Guardian: Derek Walker 15
Luna roughly counted the orcs encircling them from all sides. About thirty of the brutes had formed a wide ring around her and Kelly. Every one of them looked like an elite among orcs—nearing three meters tall, their bodies packed with loathsome slabs of muscle.
They vented their rage toward Luna. Spittle drooled from the already ugly mugs of the orcs.
With guttural roars, they swung their thick clubs carved from bloon wood at her. Their intent to crush her spirit was plain as day. Orcs might be dim-witted, but they knew enough to fight efficiently in battle.
Of course, their threats didn't instill even a speck of fear in Luna. If anything, they only deepened her disgust, solidifying her resolve to exterminate this filthy race.
Luna drew Pharaoh's Dual Scimitars. The sunlight glinted off the beautiful curved blades, reflecting her own face back at her—an expression of utter impassivity, devoid of any emotion. To Luna, slicing orcs was no different from dusting off a neglected shelf.
"Kreeek! Bitch! Surrender now and we'll let you birth a hundred whelps...!"
Slash!
The orc facing her head-on, mesmerized by her beauty mid-taunt, never finished his bold provocation. Luna's blade outsped even his tongue. He experienced his gaze being forced downward a beat before realizing his head had separated from his body.
"Kreeek! This bitch is insanely fast! Everyone, defend!"
The orcs encircling Luna hunched low into defensive stances. But it was no defense that could stand against her.
Her blades flashed like lightning on flint, sharp enough to cleave through a knight's thick plate armor with ease. A sturdy round shield might block her path if positioned precisely, but crouching and crossing their arms? It did nothing to extend their miserable lives.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Luna severed arms and necks in one fluid motion. Wielding two swords, she spun her body, felling three or four orcs at once.
The orcs, packed tight in their encirclement, suddenly realized they were the ones surrounded—with Luna at the center.
"Kreeek! Scatter first! This spawn-killer's too strong!"
They couldn't match her head-on. The green-skinned abominations only grasped the truth after seeing and feeling it for themselves.
They'd heard tales of kin who'd challenged her before and been butchered, yet they'd strutted in arrogantly, convinced they were different. Classic orc brainlessness.
"Aim for that little spawn-killer! She's the real monster!"
"Who's calling who a monster? You filthy trash race."
Luna wove through them with a voice like ice. Realizing flight was futile even with their backs turned, the orcs shifted targets. Behind her stood Kelly, clutching her long staff.
"Crit!"
Watching Luna's fearless combat up close, Crit showed no fear even as orcs charged her. At Kelly's call, the Earth Spirit King in armadillo form unleashed his power.
"Bugs like you. Time for a live burial."
Rumble rumble rumble!
The ground began to quake violently. Fine cracks spiderwebbed out from Kelly's feet. The fissures widened with the tremors, snaking toward the oncoming orcs like a living serpent.
"Kreeek! What the hell is this!?"
"Kreeek! It's pulling us in!"
The cracks reached the orcs' feet, and torrents of earth swallowed them whole. Like insects trapped in a spider's web, the orcs were encased in earthen cocoons, immobilized.
The buried orcs wailed in fury, struggling against Crit's prison, but it was futile—a laughable resistance.
"Return to the earth, you cursed scum."
Rumble rumble rumble!
The fissures gaped wider, dragging the earthen cocoons underground. Crit buried five orcs lunging at Kelly in an instant.
Witnessing their kin vanish without a fight, turned to fertilizer on the plain, the remaining orcs faltered.
Facing Luna felt like battling an unstoppable monster. Kelly's side was some inexplicable phenomenon. Either way, it overwhelmed the orcs.
"Kreeek! What do we do!?"
"Kreeek! Fight first! Win her, and she's ours!"
"Kreeek! No retreat anyway!"
Stunned by Luna and Kelly's overwhelming might, the dim-witted orcs let battle-lust override their fear and charged. With no hope in fleeing, it was a decent call—for orcs.
"Vanguard's got the two spawn-killers! We hit the human village! Human meat for dinner tonight!"
"Human meat's delicious! Fight! Kill! Win! Eat!"
There were simply too many orcs for Luna and Kelly alone. While dozens pinned the women, others surged toward Allen Village.
A hundred fearless musclebound warriors charging with clubs, howling war cries—it instilled bone-deep terror in the village militia.
Sheltered behind the palisade, the sight of berserker orcs still evoked the dread of death.
"Don't panic! Lady Luna's handling the elites! We can manage the small fry! Arrows ready!"
Youth leader Drobin bellowed from the watchtower, rallying the militia. They nocked arrows, holding their breath until the orcs entered bow range. Arrows were the most efficient anti-orc weapon they had.
"Now! Fire!"
At Drobin's command, a volley darkened the sky. The fearless front-runners swung their arms to block, but even their tough hides couldn't fully stop arrows packed with bowstring tension. Only named orcs had that kind of defense.
Some twenty lead orcs toppled, but the charge didn't waver. Spotting gaps in the volley, they trampled their porcupine-like fallen and accelerated.
"Reload! Bows down—direct fire!"
The militia adjusted angles for the second shot, hitting more orcs but still facing a horde.
"They're coming! Shields up!"
Shieldbearers with anti-orc rectangular shields—big enough to cover a man—lined up behind the palisade. They were the village's strongest youths.
They were the final line against orcs smashing the barricade. Hergen was one of them.
"Kreeek! Pathetic meat fights back! Smash 'em all!"
"Kreeek! We're here—the village is ours!"
"Festival time! Kill and rape!"
Mad with bloodlust, orcs battered the palisade with clubs. The sturdy barricade held against a few blows, but focused hits wore it down. Archers prioritized those attackers.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Drobin shone brightest, the village's top hunter aiming solely for heads. Each arrow felled an orc—but there were too many for one man.
"Damn! The orcs hit in the first volley are getting back up! Their regen is fucking chilling!"
"Left side! Left! Palisade's breaking! Shields!"
A bombarded section crumbled with a crack. If orcs breached, hell would follow—their innate strength outmatched civilians.
"Damn it! Hold!"
Hergen slammed his massive shield into the gap, stabbing its base into the dirt for an impromptu wall.
"Kreeek! Gonna mince you into ground meat, human!"
The orc roared and kicked the shield—its club shattered from prior smashing.
Thud!
"Guh!"
Hergen braced with all his weight but nearly flew back. Fellow militiamen rushed to reinforce the shield wall.
"Kreeek! Move, human!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The orc stomped relentlessly. Three men strained every muscle to hold. Shockwaves through the thick steel dazed Hergen.
"Hergen!"
Drobin's arrow downed the attacker. But breaches weren't singular.
"Damn! Right side's breaking too! Plug it quick!"
"Arrows running low!"
"If we give ground, we're done! Focus!"
"Argh! My arm!"
Screams filled the air. The green-skinned monsters, discarding all fear for victory, assailed the village. The villagers felt like cornered mice against their might.
"We're screwed! It's breaking!"
Thud!
A shieldman screamed, his plate crumpling. Two supporters crushed beneath. The orc leaped, pulverizing them.
Crunch!
The shield's weight rivaled two men; plus the orc's—it was obvious. Red blood oozed from under the fallen barrier.
"Crazy! It's breached!"
A small crack dooms a dam. Orcs swarmed the gap. Archers' faces blanched.
"God no! They're in!"
As orcs poured through like a death sentence, the ground trembled massively.
Rumble rumble rumble!
"Crit! Seal the breach!"
At Kelly's cry, earth surged from the shattered palisade, forming a natural barrier.