The night was torn apart by flames.
The first explosion sent a wall of fire into the eastern sector of the camp. A powerful shockwave knocked several orcs off their feet, scattering their bodies across the tents like ragdolls. The column of fire briefly lit up the entire battlefield, casting long shadows onto the sandy ground.
Seconds later, a second explosion rang out, this time in the very heart of the camp. The force was so great that even from the walls of the city, Lenor felt the earth tremble. Pieces of wood, fabric, and weapon fragments flew into the air. It wasn't just the tents that were burning— the orcs themselves were aflame, howling in pain and scrambling in panic.
Then came two more explosions— one after the other, at different ends of the camp.
The camp descended into total chaos.
Orcs ran in all directions, trying to make sense of what was happening. Some were dragging belongings out of the tents close to the flames, while others rushed to their leaders, demanding orders. But no one knew what to do.
The fire had already consumed nearly half of the camp.
What had once been a strong military position now looked like a burning anthill.
Lenor stood on the walls and watched.
—"They're no longer soldiers," he said quietly. "They're a herd."
Grimtar cast a sidelong glance at him.
—"Their chieftain can still take control of the situation."
And indeed, a loud, sharp voice cut through the roar of flames and panic.
—"Horde, gather! Warriors, to me!" the orc chieftain shouted, his roar drowning out even the explosions.
For a moment, a portion of the orcs stopped. Some really began to move toward his tent, but most still ran in a frenzy, ignoring the orders.
—"They're not obeying," Lenor remarked.
The chieftain roared again, furious.
—"Warriors, anyone who does not appear will be executed! I order you to gather!"
But no one rushed to obey.
Explosions continued to tear through the night. Shockwaves knocked orcs off their feet, and the bodies of the burned scattered around. More tents crumpled, like cardboard houses.
Some warriors were already fleeing the burning camp. They no longer saw any reason to stay in this hell.
The chieftain watched this, unable to believe what was happening.
His horde— the very one that could destroy cities, that knew no fear, that fought to the very end— was now falling apart right before his eyes.
He clenched his fists.
—"Traitors! Cowards!" he howled. "I will tear out your hearts!"
But no one listened anymore.
The first cracks in the chieftain's leadership had already appeared.
Lenor smiled.
—"Everything's going even better than I expected."
Grimtar silently watched the camp, where his former brothers were killing each other in panic.
—"The chieftain won't forget this," he said.
Lenor shrugged.
—"He'll have to survive first."
On the walls, the next step was already being prepared. But Lenor knew— tonight would be the beginning of the end for the horde.
Lenor stood on the walls, watching the camp carefully. The flames and explosions hadn't died down, but the chaos was already starting to shift into wild panic.
But most importantly— movement had begun in the west.
Grimtar gritted his teeth, staring at the direction of his friend's tent.
—"They're coming," he said.
And indeed— shadows began moving quickly toward the western edge of the camp. At first, it was hard to tell how many there were. But the closer they got, the more Lenor realized— there were far more of them than he had expected.
—"Grimtar, how many?" he asked.
The orc was silent for a few seconds, assessing the scale.
—"About six hundred warriors."
Lenor squinted.
Ropes flew down from the wall.
The orcs who had reached the edge of the wall quickly began to climb. It all happened fast, but Lenor could see— they were tense, their movements sharp, nervous.
—"Damn," he muttered. "They're afraid of being noticed."
Grimtar nodded.
—"That's why we need to do this faster."
More and more orcs below grabbed the ropes and pulled themselves up. Lenor's archers watched closely, ready to fire at any moment if something went wrong.
And then, the unexpected happened.
One of the orcs, who had been among the last to climb, suddenly stood up and shouted:
—"Horde, listen!"
The wall fell silent.
Explosions still echoed, but for a moment, everyone around heard that cry.
Lenor saw heads turning toward them.
—"Damn," he exhaled.
The orc at the very bottom spread his arms wide. His voice cut through the night, forcing even the panicking orcs to listen.
—"Your chieftain is weak! He promised you strength, land, and victory! But what have we got? We're dying in his wars! We fight each other for his power!"
A silence fell over the camp.
Lenor clenched his teeth.
—"Idiot! What is he trying to do? He's only drawing attention!"
Grimtar, on the other hand, watched calmly down below.
—"He knows what he's doing."
The orc on the ground took another step forward.
—"We're leaving this horde! We're joining Grimtar! We're going where there's a future waiting for us, not death!"
That was the final straw.
The chieftain, still trying to rally his warriors, sharply turned toward them. His eyes burned with fury.
—"Kill the traitors!"
But it was already too late.
The first arrows flew from the walls, covering the last of the fleeing orcs. Grimtar watched as the warriors of his clan climbed higher.
—"Faster, faster!" Lenor ordered.
The last orcs were hauled up quickly, and the ropes were immediately cut.
Chaos erupted below.
Some of the orcs, who had been frantically running just a moment ago, now exchanged looks. Lenor saw their doubts. They didn't charge into battle, they didn't rush to catch up.
They were thinking.
And that was the most dangerous thing for any horde.
Grimtar took a deep breath.
—"They no longer believe in the chieftain."
Lenor stood nearby, gazing into the camp.
—"Now he fears them as much as they fear him."
He turned to the fugitives.
Now, the city had become their new home.