Chapter 835: The Great Battle of Mountain Beasts (17)
In that moment, desperation fueled the orcs’ fight. They formed small groups, working together to isolate individual trolls. When one was surrounded, the orcs would leap into action, coordinating their strikes to take advantage of the trolls’ size and lack of agility.
"RALLY TO ME!" the commander bellowed, and the orc warriors began to respond, moving toward the sound of their leader’s voice. In that moment, they found a renewed sense of purpose. The laager might be crumbling, but their spirit was unyielding.
As they regrouped, the tide of battle seemed to shift slightly back in favor of the orcs. The trolls, having committed so much strength to their assault, found themselves struggling against the coordinated counterattacks. Orcs, moving with fierce precision, targeted the trolls’ legs and exposed sides, making every strike count.
The battlefield became a swirling maelstrom of chaos, blood, and screams. The trolls were pressed from all sides, while the orcs fought with every ounce of their strength, desperation driving them to reclaim their once-strong defensive position. The balance of power teetered dangerously, each side inching toward victory while battling the weight of their own exhaustion.
Neither trolls nor orcs were willing to yield, and as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the carnage, it became clear that this clash would not end easily. The resolve of both factions shone brightly amidst the bloodshed, and the fate of their world hung precariously in the balance.
The trolls, emboldened by their sheer power, prepared to unleash their Rolling Thunder strategy. Massive formations of trolls stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their ranks thick and formidable, axes and clubs raised high, ready to thunder forward in wave after wave. With a bellowing war cry, the troll commander raised his hand and signaled the advance, beginning a relentless, pulsing rhythm as each troll threw their weight into each forward step. The ground shook with the impact of their march as the trolls surged toward the orc lines.
At the forefront of the charge were the heaviest and strongest trolls, the "Ram" unit, whose singular mission was to drive through any initial defenses. Behind them came the "Grinders," seasoned warriors with iron-forged maces, axes, and hammers, ready to crush any orcs left standing in the wake of the first wave. Further back, troll archers and ranged units marched steadily, their massive bows and spears primed to fire over the heads of their frontline, anticipating gaps in the orc defenses to exploit with deadly projectiles.
As the troll "Ram" force reached the orc ranks, the orcs braced themselves, spears angled outward, shields held firm, absorbing the initial impact. The orc commander, noticing the calculated momentum of the troll waves, nodded to his lieutenants and ordered the Double Hook tactic to begin.
As the trolls crashed through the apparent gap, bellowing with triumph, the orc commander’s stratagem unfolded in full. The orcs, masters of patience and discipline, had baited their foes into the perfect trap. The staggered retreat of the front line gave the trolls a tantalizing glimpse of victory, and the "Ram" trolls led the charge, driven by raw power and the momentum of Rolling Thunder. Each step brought them deeper into the formation, their powerful war hammers and axes smashing against orc shields, widening the breach as they barreled forward.
But just as the trolls reached what they thought was a decisive breakthrough, the true nature of the orc formation became apparent. Hidden in plain sight, the orc forces had maneuvered into a funnel shape, the staggered front line subtly guiding the trolls inward while the flanks began to arc around in a crescent. With a swift signal from their commander, the orc soldiers closed in, tightening around the trolls in a deadly curve. The once-broken line was now a deadly semicircle, and the trolls, locked in the momentum of their Rolling Thunder charge, found themselves surrounded on three sides, with their forward motion halted by the new wave of orc spearmen.
From the flanks, the orc spearmen surged forward with practiced coordination, their long spears jabbing into the exposed sides and backs of the trolls now trapped in the funnel. Each spear thrust was deliberate, targeting the trolls’ underarms, necks, and legs—places where even their thick hides provided little defense. The orc reserves, positioned deeper within the formation, rotated to the front in unison, fresh warriors filling gaps and reinforcing the pressure on the trolls.
Meanwhile, behind the main line of "Ram" trolls, the "Grinders"—trolls wielding heavy axes and maces, their armor battered but thick—began to push forward, attempting to support their brethren and break through the newly formed crescent. However, as they advanced, the orc archers positioned behind the crescent formation loosed volley after volley. The arrows sailed high over the front ranks, arcing down onto the heads and shoulders of the "Grinders." The orc marksmen focused their shots on weak points: the trolls’ eyes, throats, and any exposed flesh between gaps in armor.
The orcs had meticulously planned for this moment. Their formation was a living entity, with units moving fluidly to contain, press, and disorient the trolls. Whenever a troll broke through a line, a fresh rank of orc soldiers filled the space almost instantly, pushing back with shields and spears, forcing the trolls back into the trap.
The "Ram" trolls, sensing the danger too late, tried to break free from the sides, swinging their massive war hammers in wide arcs to clear space. However, the narrow confines of the funnel restricted their movements. With each failed swing, they grew more desperate, their furious strikes hitting only the hard iron and unyielding shields of the orc wall.
Meanwhile, the "hooks" of the crescent continued to tighten, the orcs pressing inward with measured steps. The orc commander gave the final signal, and the rear flanks surged forward, fully encircling the trolls. The enclosed space became a killing ground as orc spearmen jabbed mercilessly, slaying trolls one by one. The Rolling Thunder momentum had turned against the trolls, their charge meeting the unbreakable discipline and resilience of the orc army.
As the "Grinders" continued their advance, every strike seemed to shake the very ground, their clubs and axes smashing through the orc shields and forcing the orcs back. The trolls’ strength was undeniable, and for a moment, it seemed that their relentless pressure might finally break the orc formation. The trolls roared in unison, their battle cries blending with the splintering of wood and the clash of steel, their advance widening the gap in the orc lines with every step forward.
But this was precisely what the orc commander had anticipated. With a sharp hand signal, the orc flanks moved inward in a sudden, synchronized motion, locking the trolls into a deadly crescent formation of the Double Hook. The orcs stationed on the far edges surged inward, closing in on the trolls from all directions. In an instant, the initial gap the trolls had forced open was gone, replaced by a wall of iron and shields. The trolls, still focused on their forward charge, now found themselves surrounded on all sides, their path forward cut off by a tightening wall of orc warriors.
The orc commander’s tactic became brutally effective. The outer ranks of orcs, reinforced with some of the strongest and most heavily armored warriors, formed an unbreakable barrier. Each orc held a thick iron shield with practiced precision, overlapping it with those of their comrades to create an impenetrable wall. The orcs’ spears, jutting through the narrow gaps between shields, stabbed forward with deadly accuracy, finding troll flesh in every available opening. The trolls, accustomed to overwhelming opponents with brute strength, were caught off guard by the sheer discipline and coordination of the orc forces.
Inside the encirclement, the trapped trolls thrashed and roared, their strength formidable but limited by the space now closing in around them. The troll commander bellowed from within the ring, ordering his warriors to break free, but the orcs had anticipated such an attempt. The second and third rows of orc warriors, equipped with long-reaching spears and bows, moved forward to add to the pressure. Arrows rained down upon the trolls, expertly aimed to exploit the gaps in their armor and strike vulnerable spots—exposed throats, joints, and any place not covered by thick hides.
The trolls’ famed Rolling Thunder tactic, once an unstoppable wave of raw power, became their downfall in this confined space. The orcs pressed closer, their crescent formation tightening around the trolls with every passing moment. As the orc shield-bearers advanced, they limited the trolls’ ability to use their massive weapons effectively, reducing them to short, desperate swings and wild strikes, many of which deflected harmlessly off the orcs’ thick shields.
In a last, desperate bid, a handful of the largest trolls attempted to break the formation by sheer force, ramming themselves into the orc ranks in an effort to create a gap. But the orc shield-bearers held firm, their ranks bolstered by a reserve of fresh soldiers waiting just behind the front lines. Every troll that managed to push forward found themselves quickly met by multiple spearheads, driving them back into the thick of the trapped formation.
