The evening sky glowed softly in the western horizon, painting the grey clouds with golden-orange light. The last rays of the sun reflected off the rows of royal soldiers standing firm before the great gates of the Emerald Kingdom. Their silver armor and steel shields gleamed in the amber light, making them appear like a row of eternal guardian statues.
Across the field, hundreds of orcs stood proudly in the open plain, their muscular bodies covered in rough sinew, pale gray-green skin looking grim beneath the glow of dusk. Massive weapons gripped in their hands—rusted axes, spiked maces, and jagged swords stained with the blood of past battles.
A tense silence hung in the air. Only the whisper of the wind could be heard, carrying the scent of metal, dry earth, and the faint trace of old blood from battles long ago.
Suddenly—A WAR TRUMPET blared from atop the Emerald Kingdom's walls. Its sharp, long note sliced through the silence, making every soldier's chest tremble. The sound awakened the entire army from the long, suffocating tension.
At the front lines, King Drako, now dismounted from his horse, raised his sword high. His voice thundered across the battlefield:
"The time for war has come! Advance! For the Emerald Kingdom!!"
A roaring cheer erupted from the entire royal army. The pounding of hooves shook the earth as the royal cavalry surged forward. Their long lances pointed straight ahead. The warhorses neighed fiercely, their hooves stomping the ground with heavy rhythm.
Across the field, low growls rumbled from the orc lines. Azog, the orc leader, lifted his massive axe high and roared:
"Charge! Crush them! For the honor of the Orcs!"
From behind the orc ranks, the wargs—giant wolves with glowing red eyes—howled fiercely. The orc warg-riders pulled hard on their reins, steering the savage beasts toward the battlefield. The pounding of warg paws shook the ground, their feral howls blending with the wild war cries of the orc soldiers running behind them.
Two massive forces surged forward. The earth quaked violently. The sound of galloping hooves and pounding warg paws merged into a single, deafening rumble. Cheers, screams, and howls filled the evening air.
The clash began.
The royal cavalry rammed into the orc lines with their lances. One lance pierced the belly of a warg, making it howl in agony before collapsing. Elsewhere, a warg leapt high, tearing into the neck of a warhorse, throwing its knight from the saddle. A heavy-axe-wielding orc welcomed the falling knight with a brutal swing to the chest, sending blood spraying high into the air.
A knight in silver armor stabbed a warg in the chest with his lance. The beast roared and thrashed before crashing to the ground. Yet another warg pounced from the side, knocking down a horse, its rider screaming as massive fangs tore into his body.
On foot, the orcs charged into the cavalry ranks, swinging axes and spiked clubs left and right. A royal soldier tried to raise his shield, but an orc axe smashed through, breaking his arm. His agonized scream pierced the air.
Cavalry lances pierced orc bodies, making some stumble and fall. But many orcs raged on, grabbing the lance shafts and yanking the riders down to the earth, slamming them into the ground.
The soil was now muddy—not with water, but with fresh blood flowing from both sides. Dead bodies littered the field, some crushed under fallen horses and wargs. The air reeked of blood, iron, and earth.
At the front of the royal army, three young warriors fought fiercely: Arthur, Kaela, and Lucifer.
Arthur leapt forward, swinging his greatsword at two orcs at once. The sharp blade cleaved into the first orc's shoulder, severing its arm clean off. The second orc swung an axe, but Arthur blocked and countered with a swift slash, ripping open the orc's belly.
Kaela stood behind the formation, raising her staff. Blue light glowed at the tip, forming a shield of energy that blocked the claws of an oncoming warg from striking a soldier. Without pause, Kaela chanted a fire spell, launching a massive fireball into the orc crowd, exploding violently and burning three orcs at once.
Lucifer slipped between the legs of the towering orcs. He leapt up, stabbing his dagger into the groin of a massive orc, making the beast howl in pain and collapse. Without wasting a second, Lucifer jumped onto a warg's back, plunging both daggers into the beast's throat. Black blood sprayed wildly.
An orc rider spotted him, swinging a huge axe. Swiftly, Lucifer rolled aside, dashing to the orc's flank, stabbing deep into its side. The orc staggered, and Lucifer leapt onto its shoulders, driving a dagger into its neck before springing away again.
Meanwhile, Arthur battled two massive orcs at once. One attacked from the left, the other from the right. Arthur spun, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc, smashing the skull of the orc on the left. The right one brought its axe down hard—Arthur blocked, stepped back, then thrust his sword straight into the orc's gut.
Kaela kept casting protective and offensive spells from the rear. Her breathing grew heavy, sweat soaking her brow. Her face was tense, hands trembling as she uttered incantation after incantation.
Lucifer reappeared behind a warg rider swinging his weapon at a royal knight. With agile grace, Lucifer leapt onto the warg's back, driving both daggers into the orc rider's nape. The orc growled for a moment, then toppled off the beast.
The battle grew ever more brutal. The dead—human and orc alike—piled on the battlefield. Screams of pain and death mixed with the roar of weapons. The scent of death thickened in the darkening evening air.