A deep, rumbling hum grew louder among the ranks of the orcs. The warlord stood at the front, his eyes scanning the walls as if searching for someone in particular. His lips curled into a sly grin as he spoke again.
— "Well, look at that, all our exiles are here!" — His voice sounded as though he expected nothing less. — "And maybe that slut Naira's here too?"
A whisper spread among the orcs, a mix of surprise and curiosity.
The warlord smiled widely, drawing his sword from its sheath and leaning on it as though it were a mere staff.
— "Maybe her old man's here too?" — He raised his chin, squinting. — "You know, the old fool was always stubborn, but weak. I should've finished him off when I had the chance. And taken Naira right in front of his eyes."
He bared his teeth in a grin that made his tusks gleam.
— "I've always liked proud bitches. They're the best to break."
His words, thrown into the silence, shattered the air like the crack of a whip.
A deadly quiet fell over the walls.
And then Grimtarr, standing nearby, couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.
— "You remember her. She survived."
A murmur and buzz broke out among the orcs. They whispered to one another, exchanging glances.
— "How is that possible?..."
— "She... she died back then!"
— "What kind of lie is this?!"
The warlord froze for a moment, then laughed so loudly that even Lenor flinched.
— "Oh, she's here? What a surprise!" — He mockingly pressed his hand to his heart. — "Is she really still alive? Is she still afraid of me?!"
Lenor saw Naira flinch. Her hands clenched into fists, her shoulders jerked, and her body tensed as though she wanted to disappear.
— "Where are you, my little slave?" — The warlord spread his arms wide, as though welcoming her. — "I always said you'd be mine. But I suppose you've had to serve many after you were taken. Isn't that right, slut?"
The wall trembled with Grimtarr's enraged growl. Some grabbed their weapons, but Grimtarr stopped them with a single gesture.
— "What, girl, hiding in the darkness?" — The warlord continued, grinning. — "Or maybe you've gotten so used to spreading your legs that you don't want to come back to the horde? Now you obediently follow the orders of your new 'master'? Or maybe they don't even take you seriously? Just use you like a rag?!"
Naira trembled, covering her ears with her hands.
Her face twisted with horror.
She curled up, as if she wanted to retreat into her own shell.
The warlord took a step forward, grinning ominously.
— "What, hurts to hear the truth? It hurts because you really are a worthless slave, one that could've been picked up on the road? Or does it hurt because now you belong to someone else?"
— "Enough..." — she whispered.
But the warlord just laughed.
— "'Enough'?! You're going to tell me 'Enough'?!"
He snorted, then twisted his lips.
— "Look at her, brothers! Once a proud orc woman, and now what? A slave. A whore. Or maybe she's already had pups for the humans? Maybe they whip her every night to remind her of her place?!"
Naira shuddered, taking a deep breath.
Lenor saw how she... started to break.
Her legs buckled, her eyes filled with panic. She was on the edge.
But this time, Lenor wouldn't let her break.
His voice sliced through the air like a heated blade:
— "ARE YOU A WARRIOR OR A RAG?!"
Naira snapped her head around. Her eyes—wide, shocked.
— "You an orc, or what?!"
Lenor grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look directly into his eyes.
— "You're a high orc. Look at yourself! You're the warlord's wife! Or have you forgotten that?!"
— "But... but..."
— "Your husband isn't here right now, so you have to take on this responsibility!"
Naira breathed heavily. Her eyes darted around, but she no longer looked as broken.
— "Are you going to break in front of this bastard?"
Her hands, still trembling, began to clench into fists.
— "If you don't stand up now, you're no higher than an orc, you're not even an orc. You're just a piece of meat! And then he was right!"
Naira shuddered with rage.
— "And you want him to be right?!"
Something inside her broke... but not the way the warlord had hoped.
Naira straightened up sharply.
Her breath steadied. Her eyes hardened.
She took a step forward.
The warlord saw this and only smiled wider.
— "Oh, really? Decided to respond? Come on, show me your worthlessness."
Naira lifted her head. Her voice, still trembling, became as cold as steel.
— "You thought you broke me back then? You thought you'd break me now?"
Slowly, she reached for her axe.
— "If you're so sure of your victory—come closer. And I'll show you what it means to be a true orc woman."
For the first time, the warlord stopped laughing throughout the entire exchange.
His eyes narrowed.
A dead silence fell over the walls.
And then Naira smiled mockingly.
— "And before you die, you'll kiss my husband's feet for this insult."
Lenor exhaled softly.
And then the warlord finally spoke:
— "Fine..."
His voice sounded different now.
— "Then I'll personally take your head."
The sun stood high in the sky, bathing the city in cold light. The horde stood frozen before the walls, waiting for their leader's command.
The tension in the air was unbearable.
Naira stood at the wall, her hands no longer trembling. She held the axe as though it was part of her own body. Lenor stared intently at the horde, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword.
The warlord swept his gaze over his warriors and, never breaking eye contact with Naira, raised his hand.
— "HORDE, CHARGE! DESTROY THEM ALL!"
— "SHE IS UNDER OUR PROTECTION!" — Grimtarr roared in response, raising his massive hammer.
And then, everything exploded.
Thousands of orcs, enraged and armed to the teeth, charged forward with a roar. The earth trembled under their force. The rumble of their heavy steps drowned out even the wind.
Lenor spun toward Lianel, who stood next to the first elven archer girl.
— "Where are the bows?! Start with the simple ones."
The dwarves, working on weapons, stood nearby, wiping sweat from their brows.
— "We've brought them! But with what you've made from mithril, there's one problem..."
Lianel took the bow. It was a monstrous work of art. It had no typical wooden curve—only dark metal with veins of mithril that shimmered in the light.
Lenor stared at it.
— "What is this monstrosity?"
— "It's our bow." — The dwarf grimaced. — "As strong as a demon's spine. But... it's almost impossible to draw."
The first elven archer girl raised the weapon, tried to draw the string... and her hands trembled with the strain.
— "Too stiff!" — she hissed, trying to hold on.
Lianel sighed, took a few steps back, and confidently raised her own bow.
— "Watch. Repeat after me."
The girl watched intently, her hands still shaking, but her gaze now focused.
— "Breathe in, breathe out. First, your stance. Keep your body straight, left arm extended, right preparing to draw the string."
Lianel calmly and confidently drew the string.
— "The tension doesn't only come from the arms, but from the back. If you rely only on your arms, you won't be able to fire more than three shots in a battle."
The elven archer girl nodded and repeated the movements.
— "Inhale... exhale..."
— "Aim!"
Lianel released the arrow sharply.
BAM!
The mithril arrow struck one of the horde's warriors. His armor couldn't even stop the blow—the body was pierced clean through.
Even Lenor raised his eyebrows in surprise.
— "This... this really works."
— "Of course it works!" — The dwarves laughed heartily. — "We're no amateurs!"
The first elven archer girl took a deep breath, focused... and released her first shot.
The armor of another orc from the horde couldn't withstand it—he fell, choking on his own blood.
The walls came alive.
— "Glory to the warlord!" — Grimtarr shouted, raising his hammer.
The higher orcs, trained by Lianel, began taking their positions.
The entire course of the battle shifted.
But below, the horde still roared, relentless.
Lenor glanced down.
The massive, bulky gates trembled from the impact of the blows.
— "They won't hold much longer..."
The dwarves on the walls only laughed.
— "Oh, damn you, are you serious?!"
One of them peered down and shouted at the attackers:
— "You fools, this thing's got mithril inside! Isn't it cracking?!"
Mocking laughter.
But below, the roar of the orcs only grew louder.
— "Prepare the arrows!" — Lianel shouted.
Lenor turned his gaze toward Naira, who stood nearby.
Her eyes were alight with fire.
She was waiting.
The horde hadn't yet shown its true strength.