✦ ✦ ✦
She should have been the one taking care of the orc lord. But she could sense someone maneuvering behind him. Until she could grasp who, she couldn’t make any rash moves. And while it might not be likely, if the orc lord managed to absorb her as well, it could spell the creation of a new demon lord and make it impossible for her own sisters to handle him. That prevented her from doing too much in public.
It also prevented her from going very hard on the magic-born Laplace, giving him the chance to escape. That hurt her. The lizardmen were being consumed by the orcs out there, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
But Treyni was still focused on her own role as a warden of the forest, and what that meant to her.
✦ ✦ ✦
Gabil continued flailing away in his desperate battle. Things were getting more and more one-sided.
The orcs seemed to know no fatigue, attacking them without pause or end. The federated goblin-lizardman forces, unable to escape from their encirclement, found themselves picked off one by one. And even if Gabil tried to break through, how many of his men—wounded and in a state of total exhaustion—would follow him?
It seemed clear that now was the time to abandon the slower goblins for good. There was no room for retreat, but by this point, Gabil had to think about guaranteeing himself as many survivors as possible. Warfare, in general, stopped once it became clear who the victor was—but these orcs seemed intent on completely wiping Gabil and his force off this plane of reality. There would be no terms offered; just murder, and then the feast.
The orcs saw them as nothing but prey, and it triggered a primal sort of fear. The formation began to fall apart at the seams, the weaker-minded ones succumbing to terror like frogs being eyed by a snake. The goblins were already a lost cause, running around like mad in search of any solace, and the orcs weren’t having any of it. They chased them down, killed them, and consumed them. Not even three thousand functioned as a fighting force any longer—and to the lizardmen, a good fifth of which had fallen, the news was no less grim.
It was already becoming difficult to lead them as a cohesive army. But Gabil kept pressing his teams forward, prodding the orc lines for any possible route of escape. His tactics were impeccable, his abilities being used to their fullest.
Then a group of those orc soldiers in the black armor began to move. A well-ordered team, unlike the common rabble, and each one protected from head to toe by metal. They might have been as physically strong as any other orc, but they functioned as a trained army, and their equipment was a massive upgrade.
The orc leading them bore an aura that overwhelmed all the others, proving how much stronger he was than the rest. An orc general, as powerful as an entire tactical squadron all by himself. And he—just one of five among the horde—had two thousand stout orc knights following him. His rank was A-minus, and he answered directly to the orc lord himself, the leader’s most trusted of officers.
It’s over…
In Gabil’s eyes, the demonstration of power was decisive.
No escape, either. Best prepare to die in battle, then…
If he wanted anything right now, it was to die like a warrior, at least.
“Gah-ha-ha-ha-ha! So it’s the leader of these cowardly pigs! Do you have the courage to duel me?!”
He could never win. Gabil’s scale mail was already in tatters, the fatigue building across his body. His foe’s armor was a work of art, enhanced with magical protection, and the aura he exuded told of his strength.
If he accepted this invitation, at least Gabil would enjoy a glorious end on the battlefield. Perhaps he could take a general with him, if things went well enough.
“Guh-huh-huh… Very well. Let me take you.”
Striking down the enemy leader, crushing the last true support his lizardman fighters had to rely on, would make the massacre that much easier to carry out. That was the orc general’s thought, and Gabil was aware enough of that. He also knew that struggling any more than this would only lengthen the agony. Any thought of the reinforcements the chief apparently counted on was gone from his mind.
He had already selected this patch of land as the last one he would ever stand upon.
“I thank you.”
Then all was solemn as they began their duel.
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Holding his magical Vortex Spear, Gabil sized up his foe, searching for any weakness.
“Come on!” the orc general howled.
“Bring it! Vortex Torrent!”
With all his remaining force, Gabil released the most powerful attack he could—a killer move, combining his latent lance skills with the magic his current weapon provided.
But…
“Chaos Eater!!”
The orc general spun his own spear in the opposite direction, canceling out the force of Gabil’s vortex. It began whirling faster and faster, unleashing its own aura that took on a sickly yellow color before descending upon the lizardman.
Is he trying to eat me?!
He rolled to the side, relying on instinct, but the aura continued to close the distance.
“Geh-heh-heh! Just another reptile,” the general laughed. “Your kind deserves to slither along the ground!”
Gabil refused to give up. At least one strike; that was all he wanted. He grabbed a clod of earth, throwing it at the orc general—as childish as it must have looked, he had to deliver at least one clean blow. The attack disappeared futilely within the yellow aura, showing exactly how outclassed he was.
Gabil was too occupied with dodging the aura to focus on any other strikes.
The orc general thrusted his spear at him, a twisted smile on his face…
“Whoa! Better not get distracted, there!”
A familiar voice reached Gabil’s ears. At the same time, he felt himself being launched backward, just barely avoiding the hilt of the orc general’s spear.
Wh-what happened?! the confused Gabil thought. Then came a roar that deafened the battlefield, like the heavens had fallen upon it. Gabil thought it was another orc trick at first, before realizing it wasn’t. Even the orcs, with their insurmountable advantage, were visibly panicking.
The tides were changing anew, and violently so.
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