Once you face a wonder, you can never go back to the past (3)

Whereas knights spent mana, Orc warriors used battle fervor.

Battle fervor was a magical force that could sharpen the blade of a rusty ax and strengthen the body. The more an Orc had fought, the stronger its fervor became, and the more foes it could slay. This force was the absolute criterion by which the greatness of an Orc was measured.

There were mutant Orcs gifted with enormous reserves of battle fervor from birth. These Orcs were bigger, stronger, and more ferocious than ordinary Orcs. Due to the fact that Orcs despised challenges to their power, most of these mutants were killed while still young. However, some survived into adulthood, whether by luck or perseverance.

These mutants were special beings, more sensitive to the use of battle fervor, more bloodthirsty, and more attuned to the auras of living beings. The power of seeing auras was revered by Orcs, and they called it [Open Eyes]. Its users were called Night Slayers.

Not only did these mutants have greater battle fervor and used [Open Eyes], they could also see the mana flowing through a knight’s body. These terrible monsters could predict the future actions of a knight that had yet to act.

Calling these beasts nightmares was fitting indeed.

“I can’t believe that such an Orc exists in this world!”

“Yes, I have fought against countless Orcs, yet I have never seen or heard of such creatures.”

“Open Eyes.. isn’t that an overwhelming ability for a single Orc?”

Vincent and the commanders had expressed strong disbelief at my explanation of what the Night Slayer was. I clucked my tongue in a warning manner.

“If your body freezes up before you draw your blade, you will have no choice but to believe me. There is a bigger problem, though.

The Night Slayer is a natural commander. He does not know tactics or strategy but knows better than any Orc how to take down foes.

This was due to the power of [Open Eyes]. He saw into the dense lines of infantry, knew where the weak spots were, and could predict an entire army’s movement.

All was visible to the Night Slayer. He tears into weakened lines like a badger and sends his strongest weapons to where defense is needed. He is as persistent as a snake on the attack and rock-hard on the defense. What more could one want in a commander? The problem was, this being was our enemy, not our ally. His army now made such a noise that the earth shook with the sound.

“You have been right so far, so this time, your words must also be true.”

The bottomless trust within my Uncle’s words made the Winter Castle leaders see things as I saw them.

“I can’t help but check.”

My Uncle took a spear from the soldier who stood next to me.

“I’m going to slay that Orc. Let’s see if it deserves the name of Night Slayer, a name that they say is so great that men lose their minds at hearing it.”

There came a loud cheer, and a strange wave spread over the battlefield. My Uncle’s arm muscles bunched up tautly.

‘Whooosh!’

The spear flew through the sky with great speed and at a precise trajectory. The throw seemed perfect.

Yet, it was all for naught. From the instant that my Uncle had grabbed the spear, the Night Slayer had been ready for him.

It channeled its battle fervor, and the spear exploded mid-air.

‘Bang!’

The Night Slayer looked our way and opened its mouth in a hungry and very brutal smile. It looked at us as if we were its next prey.

It held out its hand as another Orc gave a spear to it. He then sprinted a short distance, throwing his spear under the added momentum, once more activating its fervor and channeling it into the weapon.

It flew in our direction with an air-piercing sound. My Uncle plucked the spear out of the sky.

“I do not know much, but I know that it has a temper which does not accept defeat.”

My Uncle smiled as he brushed the residue of the Night Slayer’s battle fervor from his hands. For the first time in my life, I realized how much he has changed. His lust for victory had been awakened by seeing how strong this opponent was.

I started laughing without knowing why, feeling the battle atmosphere.

“Ian,” my Uncle said, taking his eyes off of the Night Slayer. “If I’m not mistaken, you seem to know how to deal with this Orc.”

Vincent and the heads of Winter Castle expressed surprise at his words.

“Why would you think so?”

My Uncle burst into laughter. “I want to see your face,” he retorted.

“My face?”

My face was filled with excitement, for we would be facing a Night Slayer, who was almost as powerful as the Warlord. I still knew that I was just a man, and not some emotionless weapon, merely a sword to be unsheathed whenever war reared its ugly head.

The blood-thirst and focus within me made me feel warm all over. I was anxious to test my knowledge, experience, and strength. I wished to test my body.

People who were looking at me shuddered. It seemed that my blood-lust and eagerness was clear for all to see. I hid my expression too late. I coughed a bit, readying my voice, and then I spoke:

“All his commands follow the abilities of [Open Eyes].”

This meant that the Night Slayer’s command was efficient but still contained inherent weaknesses. He had to rely on what he saw, which might only be a fraction of the battle. “Additionally, no matter how patient he is, he is still an Orc. There exists no greater virtue than seeking delicious delicacies for the Orcs.”

Night Slayer, the spearhead of the Warlord, found nothing more delicious than victory.

“Let us prepare this dining table properly.”

All we had to do was lay the plates so he could turn from a cunning commander into a beastly Orc.

* * *

“Impossible! It’s too dangerous!”

My plan ran into resistance from the start.

“I told you, it sees us all. Clumsy tricks might not work.”

“Even so, there are more suitable people. Your majesty does not have to be bait.”

Despite Vincent’s vehement opposition, I made clear how great I was at being bait.

“Rangers and knights will not look as delicious as me.”

“If you leave this to recruits, the Night Slayer will just go through them all. Look. We are perfect for this attack.”

The royal infantrymen were as honed as the Rangers but had limited battle experience.

“You can find the right person among the knights and deploy them with the royal infantry.”

“Why must I leave my soldiers to someone else?”

“Well, is your arm healed enough?”

“This is but a flesh wound,” I said, raising the arm that I had thought broken but which was now fine. Vincent arched his brow.

There was pain, but I calmly endured it. My soul’s level was rising, and my metabolism was temporarily maximized. This meant that my arm was healing at an alarming rate.

The moment of attack was approaching. I was impatient at Vincent and the commanders for their inaction.

“Think calmly. Someone is going in my place. Even if facing only two Orcs, are you going to go mad trying to be a soldier? Will this operation not become meaningless?”

Vincent remained silent.

“I still don’t understand why I have to do this. Winter Castle is able to beat them without resorting to such reckless methods,” he finally said. He was not wrong.

This fortress, which had endured so many countless winters, would not collapse no matter how mighty the Night Slayer was.

However, it could do a lot of damage. The castle would soon be assaulted by the enemy’s main force. We had to avoid defeat at all costs. The true enemy was not the Night Slayer, but the Warlord.

“If we do not end this battle soon, Winter Castle will fall in the next assault.”

My words elicited harsh expressions, having touched the pride of Vincent and the commanders.

The Warlord had not hidden its presence since it had announced itself last night. In fact, that great presence was drawing closer to Winter Castle at every moment. He moved at a regal pace, yet would soon be here.

“Uncle, what do you say?.”

“We don’t have time. I’ll do what Ian suggested,” my Uncle said, his gaze fixed upon the mountain range. It seemed that he was only now sensing the presence of the Warlord.

“I don’t know when this Night Slayer will climb the wall. If you make a mistake, you might fight for longer than you had intended,” my Uncle said as he looked at me. I averted my gaze, looking rather at Arwen. Next to her stood a maid, her expression one of utter confusion.

My secret weapon had become an extraordinary item and could not be controlled.

“I will kill all the squads that come up,” I stated plainly.

I could see my Uncle struggling internally, worrying about whether to field vast numbers of men and, in so doing, exposing his weaknesses. I knew that, with the approaching Warlord, we had no time to agonize over strategies.

“If it is too dangerous. I will immediately cancel the operation and return the troops to their original deployment,” my Uncle finally conceded.

“That would take a week.”

The Night Slayer would surely appear before that. I would ensure that he did.

* * *

‘Aahhwooohoo.’

The horn sounded throughout the fortress. The Orcs were rushing the walls, the pure white snow-covered in a sea of green.

“Fire!” The Rangers fired a single volley, targeting the Orcs who carried grappling hooks and siege ladders.

Some fell under the hail of missiles while others charged on through this torrent of arrows, their shields raised. I recognized the heraldry engraved upon their shields: Three interlinked rings being the symbol of the Balahard family. It must have taken them dozens of winters to gather so many shields as loot.historical

“The motherfuckers!” I heard one ranger shout as he too recognized the emblem.

I stood still, observing events. Once more arrows filled the sky, many unshielded Orcs being felled.

Soon, the Orcs surrounding Winter Castle numbered about four thousand. Arrows could not kill them all, and a great many were directly beneath the walls.

‘Klank!’

The first hook snagged onto the wall. More followed as ladders slammed home as well. Our soldiers managed to cut each hook and topple all the ladders.

Wolf Riders stormed onto the battlefield. So mighty were these wolves that they started leaping onto the walls.

“Knights, prevent the Wolf Riders from intruding!” my Uncle commanded as infantrymen rushed to enact his orders.

Torn and shredded wolves and Orcs tumbled from the walls, spines breaking and necks snapping. The Orcs screamed as they fell.

“Pour now!”

Great cauldrons of oil, tar, and pitch were poured down upon the Orcs. Flaming arrows followed, and multiple Orcs died screaming as the fire consumed them. Our catapults started lobbing stones at the invaders. Yet, the survivors continued climbing. The royal infantry on the Western wall was resisting well, focusing on keeping the Orcs out rather than killing them.

At such a height, any fall meant death.

Arwen was in her element as she slashed away with her blade, like a fish having discovered water. Her face was full of life.

No matter how many Orcs we killed, they just kept on coming. After several hours, the exhaustion of the infantrymen became clear. The knights and Rangers still held fast, their greater experience showing in the heat of battle.

How long would the foe keep this up? How many were left?

Arwen finally sagged against a wall, and the infantrymen showed clear signs of utter exhaustion.

The Night Slayer had sensed our weakness.

‘Ahwoooooo!’

A giant wolf had reached the wall and was finding its way down the stairs.

Only

“It only gets worse from here on out!” I shouted as I saw the deformed beast. “Arwen! Take out the Wolf Riders before they gain the wall!”

She grabbed her sword and charged at three of the riders, slicing off Orcish legs and opening lupine bellies.

The other Wolf Riders grouped up for an assault on the western section while the Orc Warriors kept throwing themselves at the walls.

The Night Slayer had not yet appeared. I did not intend to allow him to wait for his food to cook.

“Alright, let’s do this!”

I summoned the twilight and exhaled. A blue flame now burned on the tip of my sword. This flame of true spirit existed to appease the soul by burning Orcs. I raised my blade to the sky. As if in reaction to my flaming sword, great energy arose from across the field of battle.

Night Slayer.

He could no longer withstand his hunger as he set foot upon the battlefield. From afar, the huge Orc could be seen charging toward us, seemingly anxious that the delicious food would be stolen by someone else.