Margel Island Battle (3)
Though he denied it with his words, the situation was clear as day.
'That damned bastard is after the Dragon Heart!'
Great Chieftain Kaladashyr felt like his irritation was about to explode.
A monster had appeared out of nowhere, turning everything into a mess.
Kuooooh!
The turtle dragon no longer smashed the bridge but approached Margel Island directly.
As its massive foot touched the beach, the ground itself began to shake.
Kuung! Thud!
There were twenty thousand orcs on the island, yet none dared to stand against it.
"What the hell is that?!"
"A sea monster!"
Orcs might be brave, but a sudden 100-meter behemoth changed everything.
The orcs began retreating in droves.
In the chaos, a few mad ones charged with axes, only to be promptly crushed into bloody pulp under the turtle dragon.
"No way! It's Gallak of the Tree-Pulling clan!"
"Even Atug, who killed an ogre barehanded, got smashed!"
The warriors who rushed it were renowned in their own right, yet they died unrecognizable.
At this rate, the army would collapse without even fighting.
The great chieftain roared loudly and stepped forward, unleashing his trump card spell.
"Strike true! Fierce lightning that pierces the plains!"
With his shout, dazzling light flashed, and a bolt of lightning crashed down.
The strike hit the turtle dragon's carapace dead-on, making it flinch in surprise.
Startled, it tucked its enormous head into its shell.
But that was it.
Sizzle.
Smoke billowed thickly from its carapace, but it seemed unfazed, poking its head out calmly again.
Watching this, the great chieftain was dumbfounded.
"What kind of nonsense is this...?"
He had once slain a 30-meter dragon with this lightning in one hit.
Its power was universally acknowledged, yet here it only made the foe twitch.
The great chieftain couldn't decide whether to keep fighting.
No dragon he'd ever seen had such vitality and durability.
Unlike his hesitation, however, the lightning spell ignited courage in the orcs.
Seeing the giant turtle dragon flinch and hide its head fueled their resolve to fight.
"Now! Attack! Charge!"
"Everyone together!"
The orcs, seized by near-mad fervor, surged forward en masse.
Truly, brute ignorance bred bravery.
Naturally, the great chieftain startled and tried to stop them.
"W-Wait! You lunatics!"
But the frenzied orc warriors were beyond control.
Despair gripped the great chieftain.
This foe was leagues beyond a normal ground dragon.
Massive casualties were inevitable.
Kuwoong!
As the turtle dragon slammed its forefoot down, over a dozen orcs exploded.
The catastrophe began.
Soon, blood flooded everywhere.
Every movement of the turtle dragon crushed dozens of orcs or sent them flying skyward.
Blood flowed like rivers, mixing with incoming waves to dye the sea red.
"Don't retreat!"
Yet the orcs kept charging.
Perhaps their fear made them fight all the harder.
In the end, the great chieftain faced a critical crossroads.
'Losing the army here will make assaulting the fortress impossible. I need to decide.'
The bridge's destruction had cut off the thirty thousand on the mainland from reaching the island.
Orcs already lacked ships, and requisitioning more from those used for the bridge was impossible.
So they had to attack with the twenty thousand landed—but the turtle dragon threatened to grind them all.
'I need to act fast.'
After agonizing, the great chieftain concluded his only option was the fear spell from earlier.
Physical combat might drag on for days.
'Driving it off is best.'
But the turtle dragon's mind was too vast for simple fear to work.
Of course, that didn't mean there was no way.
Mobilize enough mana to overpower that immense spirit.
And conveniently, he had just the thing nearby.
But it would be a painful choice.
"I curse all dragons in the world..."
With a heart like vomiting blood, Great Chieftain Kaladashyr reached for the iron box.
It was essential for the resurrection ritual—he'd never wanted to touch it—but preserving the army came first now.
Besides, the turtle dragon coveted this Dragon Heart.
If it would be taken anyway, better to use it and save his forces.
'The ritual will be a mess...'
The Dragon Heart was key to Tanares's resurrection but not essential.
He had other parts like teeth or ribs.
It just affected the mana quantity and thus time.
With the heart, days; without, possibly weeks.
"...No choice."
The great chieftain steeled himself.
Clank! Clank!
He hurriedly unlocked the iron box.
Inside was a shattered crystal-like lump.
But the vein-like branches extending around it marked it as a heart.
Carefully, he lifted the Dragon Heart.
At the same moment, the turtle dragon crushing orcs nearby reacted.
Kuwooooooh!
Spotting the gleaming Dragon Heart, its eyes widened, seized by primal greed.
It was an emotion so intense even Owen would be shocked.
Like a massive blaze roaring.
"Ugh!"
Owen, linked mentally with outstretched hand to the turtle dragon, jerked back in alarm.
"Hey!"
Arwen had to hastily support his staggering form.
"Ngh... I'm fine."
The overwhelming emotional storm made maintaining the link impossible.
Once severed, the turtle dragon ignored everything else.
Kuwoooo!
The small, shining thing in the great chieftain's hand.
Its mind fixated solely on the Dragon Heart.
"Come on! You monster!"
The great chieftain absorbed the Dragon Heart's mana to activate his spell.
Vast power flooded his body, wracking him with agony.
"Grraaah... Urgh!"
Veins bulged on his face and forehead; his ogre-blooded sturdy shoulders trembled.
Yet he persisted, completing the spell.
Shooooaaa!
Black smoke poured from his outstretched hand.
It was sucked into the turtle dragon through its breath.
Kurung!
The reaction was immediate.
Its pupils dilated.
Bloodshot veins protruded in its eyes.
Seized by unfamiliar dread.
Its heart pounded wildly in confusion.
Fear—utterly alien to such a being.
It recalled fleeing predators in its small, young days.
Kwooooh!
The turtle dragon turned and headed for the sea.
Yet despite the terror, it didn't hurry—perhaps Kuaram Kam's pride.
Shwaaaa.
As it submerged, waves surged. Then, as if its rampage was a lie, the giant vanished.
"Hoo..."
The great chieftain, successful with the fear spell, sighed in relief.
The massive casting aged his face a decade.
The Dragon Heart in his hand had turned to a gray, hard stone.
Crumble.
It shattered futilely to the ground.
'The plan's gone off the rails. Not a total failure, but tangled. Why did the turtle dragon show up now?'
He didn't think it coincidence.
Yet nothing else explained it.
Who could command a turtle dragon?
"Damn it..."
Despite his ogre-blooded massive frame, the great chieftain's shoulders slumped.
His complexion was grim.
A glance around showed devastation.
Thousands dead in moments.
Once-brave warriors reduced to scattered meat chunks.
They'd repelled the turtle dragon, but no joy.
To the orcs, it had left leisurely.
One clear fact: their vaunted axes and hammers did nothing.
Of course, all saw the great chieftain act.
But that was the problem.
"Demon power."
Someone muttered.
A nearby orc replied.
"Yeah. That's not orcish spellcraft..."
Orc spells traditionally fired warriors' hearts.
The great chieftain's looked sinister and ominous.
Many had heard rumors of his demon ties but dismissed them.
No longer.
"It's foul and improper."
"Unfit for orcs."
No victory roars despite repelling the beast.
They whispered worriedly about what they'd witnessed.
With the bridge gone, links to the mainland severed.
Morale plummeted in this bleak outcome.
But misfortune didn't end there.
That night, dragon knight raids began nightly.
While the bloody battle raged on Margel Island, Surpuk Duke's reinforcements finally set sail.
The expedition numbered over 5,500, divided among 23 ships.
Nearly all serviceable vessels from the dark elf queen's remnants.
Few compared to the orc horde, but transport limits left no choice.
Instead, it was composed of elites.
Plus some very special additions.
"I hope that pup hasn't already keeled over, now that even I deigned to come."
In the rocking cabin, the legendary archmage Bellatel spoke first.
A thick voice replied.
"Krrhr. No need to worry. Exceptional ones don't die easily."
Surprisingly, not human.
It was the orc hero Karaku, called the Undefeated Legion Commander.
Bellatel scowled at him.
"Because of you, even I have to go to that godforsaken island! How will you take responsibility?"
Bellatel joined solely due to Karaku.
He'd only asked about underground ruins per Owen's request.
But Karaku insisted on going personally to aid his benefactor.
Bellatel vehemently opposed—a fugitive in hiding shouldn't wander.
Yet even the archmage couldn't break the stubborn old orc's will.
"The ancient underground ruins hold many secrets, Bellatel. I must go myself to help."
"Fine. But why drag me along? Honestly."
"Without a mage's skill, how could an orc like me hide amid humans and dark elves?"
"That's the issue! Damn it! I'll waste spells nonstop."
"Heh heh, Bellatel. I've seen many mages in my life, but none as stingy as you. A grand archmage trembling over minor spells—truly novel."
"Shut it! That's how I became a grand archmage."
As the old human and old orc bickered in the cabin, a neat young man downed harsh whiskey.
His name: Luke.
Once Baron Magnus's mercenary, subjected to horrific dark elf body modification.
But Bellatel restored him to normal.
Bellatel clicked his tongue at the nonstop drinker.
"Drowning in booze, young fool! Why'd you even come?"
"...To keep my promise."
Luke answered curtly, swigging more whiskey.
Gulp.
As payment for restoration, he'd give Owen a dragon.
But joining the perilous expedition was unexpected.
"Couldn't you wait in Bris? You drunkard."
"If Owen Leire dies on the island, I can't fulfill it. Joining means handing over the dragon before he hits the afterlife."
"Hoh... Didn't know you were so kind."
"Just hate loose ends, old timer. Grateful for the fix, but don't get chummy. Annoying."
"What?! You insolent brat! Say that again! Want me to revert you?!"
The cabin with Bellatel, Karaku, and Luke knew no quiet.
Eventually, Bellatel grudgingly cast a soundproof spell.
Wind and currents shifted then, delaying arrival to Margel Island.
Unlike Owen's group, it took a week.
Upon arrival, the situation was dire.
The outer walls had fallen to the orc onslaught; defenders huddled in the inner keep.
Orcs hammered the trapped foes relentlessly.
But Bellatel, watching from deck, stayed calm.
"They're holding, so we help. Hm...?"
Pondering post-landing spells, Bellatel spotted something odd and tilted his head.
Near the swarming orcs at the outer walls, over a thousand weren't fighting but engrossed in something.
"They're digging?"
Unclear what, but orcs dug fervently.
Piles of dirt formed hills beside them.