"They're coming."
Beside Alaric, Janice murmured as she peered into the distance.
The orcs were rapidly approaching the city walls.
Perhaps because she had always defended from behind a lake in the past, Janice had never personally faced the Horde on the battlefield.
Her prior experiences were limited to leveraging the lake's natural barrier to defend against the orcs attacking the fortress on Darrowmere Lake.
So, when she saw the sheer number of orcs before her, Janice was stunned.
From atop the walls, the ground below seemed swarming with them.
They were like a tide of massive beasts, each one as tall as the tallest human, but broader, with bulging muscles and brutish heads.
She didn't see any heavy siege equipment, aside from a few massive logs clearly repurposed as battering rams.
Just as Alaric had told her, these orcs were armed with giant axes, hammers, and greatswords. Janice was also sure they carried ropes and iron grappling hooks.
Thankfully, under Alaric's command, the walls of Caer Darrow had been hastily reinforced, and they now stood sturdier than before.
And with this man, undefeated against the orcs, by her side, Janice truly believed Caer Darrow could withstand even the fiercest assault from the Horde.
Indeed, even before the Horde arrived, Alaric had ensured the town was fully prepared.
Rallying reinforcements from surrounding areas hadn't been difficult.
The Horde's arrival was abrupt, but Onyxia, who had been overseeing the defense of Darrowmere, reacted with remarkable speed.
Though many had been whispering behind her back during her brief days in command, mocking her as merely a woman who had climbed out of an Alliance commander's bed, those who did so soon met miserable ends.
The Black Dragon Princess had cast aside her gentle, refined demeanor from Alaric's side and transformed into a ruthless political and military figure.
All who slandered her were swiftly reassigned to the filthiest, most backbreaking duties, like hauling heavy logs and rocks for the defenses.
And everyone knew it was revenge, but no one could find any fault in her orders.
Some soldiers had questioned her military credentials, even accusing her of rising through "improper means."
One officer, citing unwritten military codes, dared challenge her publicly. Others mocked him for bullying a woman, until they witnessed Onyxia's delicate white hand shatter the officer's armor with a single punch, leaving the man half-paralyzed.
After that, no one dared to underestimate this female commander again.
Under her iron-fisted leadership, the previously chaotic defense force of Caer Darrow quickly regained order.
And when the orcs finally arrived, Onyxia showcased her extraordinary command.
While most were still frozen in shock, she was the first to act, barking strict orders for soldiers to maintain order and evacuate civilians from the city gates.
So deep was the respect (or fear) for this ruthless woman that her orders were carried out almost instinctively.
By the time the orcs reached the city's edge, nearly everyone outside the walls had been moved to safety.
The livestock, unfortunately, caused some trouble, except for the smallest and most valuable animals and items, Onyxia ordered everything else abandoned without hesitation.
The gates were shut with haste, and sandbags were stacked thick to reinforce the entrance's structural weakness.
From there, she directed soldiers to guard the walls, report enemy movements, maintain order within the city, evacuate residents near the perimeter, and organize able-bodied men to aid in the defense.
Everything was done with methodical precision. No one questioned her authority.
Before the arrival of Alaric, the town's spiritual pillar and legendary commander, it was Onyxia who led Caer Darrow into a full defensive posture.
Alaric scanned the city's fortifications.
The guards and soldiers were fully mobilized, defensive equipment like logs and rocks had been positioned for easy access, and the townspeople had been organized to deliver supplies to the frontlines.
He was thoroughly pleased with everything Onyxia had accomplished.
At this moment, he couldn't help but admire the Black Dragon Princess.
Her years of experience among humans had made her a master of politics, warfare, and commerce, she could have filled any high position with ease.
Alaric even thought it a bit of a waste to have her serve by his side.
Then again, he mused, if a maid couldn't handle all these things flawlessly, could she really be called the perfect maid?
…
Still, despite Onyxia's flawless preparations, Alaric faced one major issue: he was drastically short on manpower, and the soldiers' overall quality was far from ideal.
The current garrison at Caer Darrow consisted of soldiers pulled from neighboring towns, remnants from the defeat at Crushridge, and even private troops from the Barov family.
While their numbers were sufficient for a town like Caer Darrow, they were far too few to stand against tens of thousands of orcs.
Worse, most of these soldiers had faced defeat at the hands of the Horde before and carried the fear of that memory with them.
It was a serious problem, one that vexed Alaric greatly.
But that didn't mean he would surrender the city. He had full confidence in his own ability to command a defense, and in the powerful magic he possessed.
He glanced over the wall again, judging the distance of the Horde's front lines.
From this vantage point, he could clearly see their tusks, and the trophies they wore around their necks, wrists, and heads, tassels, bones, medals.
All spoils from past battles.
Good. Let them flaunt their past victories. Soon, they would find this battle to be unlike any they had fought before.
Whatever happens next, the Horde would remember the name of the commander who had thwarted them time and again, they would remember this battle, and they would remember Alaric.
"Boiling oil, ready!" Alaric shouted. The soldiers stationed below him all nodded in response.
They tipped over massive cauldrons placed along the wall, pouring the scalding oil down the stone ramparts.
The leading orcs had reached the base of the wall just as the oil cascaded down, drenching them entirely.
Agonized screams echoed as the boiling liquid burned through flesh, melting meat from bone. The entire vanguard collapsed, writhing and twitching on the ground.
A few managed to stumble back to their feet, but the vast majority would never rise again.
"Get more oil ready!" Alaric ordered again. "Use the logs and rocks to stop them!"
Under Onyxia's supervision, everyone scrambled to carry out their duties.
Some soldiers dragged heavy logs and massive stones from their piles to the edge of the wall, while others worked in teams to lift and refill the cauldrons for another round.
Compared to rocks and logs, the boiling oil clearly had greater killing power against the mighty orcs, some of whom could survive even a direct hit from a falling boulder.
However, refilling, reheating, and transporting the oil back up the wall took considerable time. Thankfully, the logs and rocks would hold the line in the meantime.
Alaric knew this wasn't just a probing attack, it was the start of a prolonged siege. But per his orders, Caer Darrow had already stockpiled enough food and water for several weeks.
This first wave was nothing more than an appetizer. He had plenty more "feasts" in store for these orcs.
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