Chapter 829: The Great Battle of Mountain Beasts (11)
As the battle quieted on the side where the orc army had been annihilated, the five figures, still emanating an overwhelming aura of destruction, began their methodical sweep of the battlefield. Orion, with his blood-red spear, strode across the blood-soaked ground, impaling any twitching bodies that still clung to life. His movements were slow but deliberate, each strike filled with the weight of finality. Cy, wielding his black spear, covered the opposite side of the field, dark shadows rippling outward with every swing, engulfing and disintegrating any remaining trolls or orcs too slow to die with the rest of their kin.
Bella, her green flames still flickering at her fingertips, walked amongst the fallen, incinerating piles of bodies as she passed. Trolls, orcs—none were spared her fire as she erased the remnants of the battlefield with cold efficiency. Luna moved in silence, her illusions still haunting the few survivors who tried to crawl away. She ensured that none escaped unnoticed, luring the dying into traps they could never avoid. Aisa, meanwhile, moved like a ghost, her blade flashing as she decapitated any fallen warriors who might have been faking death. There was no mercy here, no hesitation.
In a matter of minutes, the battlefield was eerily silent, the ground littered with nothing but smoldering corpses as if a storm had swept through and wiped out everything in its path. The five exchanged glances, indifferent to the carnage they had wrought, before turning their backs on the desolate field.
On the other side of the war, far removed from the chaos left behind by the five, the battle raged with undiminished fury. This side of the battlefield saw a more structured and disciplined clash between the orcs and trolls, each side locked in a deadly tug of war.
The trolls, led by seasoned commanders, had taken up a defensive formation. Their front lines were formed by heavily armored trolls wielding massive tower shields and long spears, creating an impenetrable wall of steel and muscle. Behind them, trolls armed with massive crossbows fired volleys of bolts into the oncoming orcs, their massive size making it impossible for the orcs to ignore. The trolls knew their strength lay in their endurance and resilience, so they held their ground, trusting that their defense would eventually wear the orcs down.
The orc commanders, on the other hand, had adopted a more aggressive approach. They understood that a prolonged battle would favor the trolls, who were better equipped to withstand punishment. The orcs aimed to break the troll lines quickly, relying on their natural ferocity and relentless aggression. The orc infantry, divided into tightly packed shock troops, rushed forward in waves, hoping to breach the troll defense with brute force.
The orcs attempted to disrupt the trolls by sending berserker units—savage warriors who fought with no regard for their own safety—charging headlong into the troll front line. These berserkers, driven by bloodlust, hurled themselves at the shield wall, slashing and hacking at anything in their path. The trolls, however, held firm, their spears stabbing outward in unison, impaling the orc berserkers before they could do too much damage. The bodies of the fallen orcs piled up, but more kept coming, their savage howls filling the air.
To counter the orc aggression, the troll commanders shifted tactics. They ordered their archers and crossbowmen to concentrate fire on the flanks of the orc assault, where the shock troops were more vulnerable. Massive bolts rained down from above, skewering orcs and causing their flanks to falter. This created gaps in the orc formations, which the trolls exploited with brutal efficiency. Small units of troll heavy infantry emerged from behind the shield wall, charging into the weakened orc flanks and cutting down the disoriented warriors. It was a calculated push, aimed at slowly breaking the momentum of the orc advance.
The orc commanders, seeing their flanks begin to crumble, ordered their second wave—a reserve force of hardened warriors armed with spiked maces and warhammers—to press the attack. These orcs, unlike the berserkers, were disciplined and methodical. They swung their heavy weapons with devastating force, smashing into the troll shield wall with enough power to dent their defenses. The trolls, despite their size and strength, began to buckle under the sheer weight of the orc assault.
Sensing that their lines were weakening, the troll commanders signaled for their war beasts—massive, armored creatures resembling a cross between a rhinoceros and a bear—to charge into the fray. These beasts, ridden by elite troll warriors, barreled through the battlefield, smashing through the orc formations and scattering their ranks. The war beasts were a fearsome sight, their thick hides impervious to most weapons, and their charge threw the orc army into disarray.
But the orc commanders were not without a countermeasure. They had held back their war machines—massive siege engines that launched boulders and flaming projectiles—until now. As the troll war beasts wreaked havoc among the orc troops, the siege engines began to fire, raining destruction down on the trolls. Flaming boulders crashed into the troll lines, crushing both troll and war beast alike. The troll shield wall, once solid and unbreakable, began to fracture as the orcs pressed their advantage.
Despite the chaos, the troll commanders were not yet defeated. They ordered their forces to fall back in a strategic retreat, pulling their forces into a more compact formation near a defensible ridge. The trolls dug in, using the high ground to rain down even more crossbow bolts and flaming arrows on the orcs below. This created a temporary reprieve for the trolls, as the orcs struggled to regroup and reform their shattered lines.
But the orcs were relentless. Their commanders ordered a flanking maneuver, sending small groups of light infantry to scale the ridges on either side of the troll position, hoping to catch them in a pincer movement. The orc light infantry, though less heavily armored, were nimble and skilled at scaling difficult terrain. They reached the top of the ridges quickly and began harassing the troll positions from above, forcing the trolls to divide their attention between the main orc force and the skirmishers attacking from the flanks.
The trolls were now trapped in a deadly back-and-forth battle. They had the high ground and their defense was still strong, but the orcs’ relentless pressure was beginning to take its toll. The trolls’ defensive lines were stretched thin, and their once-cohesive formations were starting to unravel under the constant barrage of orc attacks from multiple angles.
On the ground, orc warriors clashed with troll defenders in brutal hand-to-hand combat. Axes and hammers swung wildly as orcs tried to force their way through the troll lines. Blood and gore sprayed the ground as the two armies slaughtered each other, neither willing to give an inch. The trolls, with their immense size and strength, held the advantage in close combat, but the orcs made up for it with sheer ferocity and numbers.
In the end, it was a battle of attrition. The trolls, with their disciplined formations and defensive strategies, sought to hold the line, while the orcs, with their aggression and unpredictability, fought to break through. Both sides were locked in a savage, grinding struggle, their formations shifting and collapsing as the battle raged on.
Each army had its moments of advantage, but neither side could claim a decisive upper hand. For now, the fate of this battlefield remained uncertain, both trolls and orcs determined to fight to the last.
The trolls, their beady eyes glinting with a cold, calculated focus, initiated their charge with thunderous steps that shook the ground. The forward ranks, composed of their most fearsome warriors, barreled toward the orc lines with deafening roars, weapons raised high. These massive creatures, clad in thick, jagged armor, wielded axes that could cleave through shields like they were made of straw, and clubs capable of reducing an orc’s bones to dust with a single blow. Their approach was relentless, like a boulder tumbling down a mountain, impossible to stop without immense force.
As they slammed into the orc vanguard, the sound of metal on metal, the crack of bone, and the cries of the wounded echoed across the battlefield. The trolls’ front lines tore into the orc defenses, their mighty blows sending some orcs flying, others crushed where they stood. Orc shields splintered under the weight of the trolls’ massive weapons, and the battle seemed to teeter on the brink of chaos. Troll and orc alike were swept into a maelstrom of violent combat, the battlefield turning into a bloodbath as bodies began to pile up, the once-sturdy ground now slick with blood and churned earth.
The orcs, for all their ferocity, were taken aback by the sheer power of the trolls’ opening assault. They dug in, gripping their weapons tightly, forming tighter ranks to stem the tide of their enemies. But even in their most disciplined formations, the orcs struggled to contain the brute strength of the trolls. Orc captains bellowed orders, rallying their warriors to hold the line as troll axes cleaved through armor and limbs alike.
