The orc war camp was in a frenzy. Smoke curled from bonfires, war drums thundered, and the air reeked of bloodlust and sweat.
At the center, Warchief Dan Ergu slammed his iron fist on the table with such force that the wooden frame creaked. His sharp tusks gleamed under the torchlight as his lips curled into a savage grin.
"So, you finally found them?" His deep voice rumbled like a storm. "The camp of those cursed human armies?"
"Yes, Commander," replied a griffin rider with a feral birdlike face. He bowed deeply. "I located their position. They dared to fire arrows at me, so I couldn't linger. But I estimate tens of thousands of them are camped there."
"Excellent!" Dan Ergu's eyes blazed with cruel delight. Yesterday, in Suno City, the orcs had been humiliated. The memory of it still burned like hot coals in his chest. Now, at last, vengeance was within reach.
"Dispatch the Griffin Legion to strike first!" he roared. "Scatter the humans from the skies. Then I will personally lead the charge into their camp. We will repay humiliation with slaughter—tenfold!"
His roar was echoed by the other generals. "Kill them all!" one bellowed. "My axe has been thirsty for human blood!" Another slammed his twin axes together, sparks flying in the air. The entire command tent shook with their cries.
The order was given. The time for reprisal had come.
---
The Orc Army Stirs
All across the camp, griffins screeched, wings beating as they were roused from rest. Hundreds upon hundreds of the beasts launched into the air, blotting out the sky with dark shadows. Dust rose in choking clouds as the wind of their wings swept the ground.
"Hahaha! Humans will die today!" riders cried, voices shrill with manic glee. They gripped five-meter spears, their backs bristling with bows and javelins. Their birdlike heads twisted grotesquely as they howled with hunger for blood.
Below, lines of orc infantry armed with axes and halberds stamped and roared in rhythm. Steel clashed against steel as they pounded their weapons together. The fury that had been festering since their loss at Suno City now erupted like a flood.
"Forward!" bellowed Dan Ergu, hefting a giant axe with a blade as wide as a man's chest. He was clad in spiked heavy armor, a towering figure of brute savagery. "March upon the humans! Smash them beneath our blades!"
The ground shook as thousands of boots thundered in unison. The orc horde advanced, a tide of steel and fury following their griffin vanguard.
---
The Trap Awaits
Meanwhile, within the Loos Kingdom's camp, soldiers moved with crisp discipline. Ammunition crates were dragged into position. Barbed wire fences bristled. Machine gun nests were camouflaged beneath nets.
Rows of ZPU-2 dual-mounted 14.5mm anti-aircraft guns stood ready, their barrels gleaming under the light of the setting sun. Ammunition belts, thick and heavy, were already locked into place.
Beside them, T-34 tanks rumbled slowly to the front. These steel beasts had been hauled by trucks across the land to conserve precious fuel. Now, engines growled as they were fueled and primed, waiting for the moment of release. Their turrets turned toward the horizon like hungry predators.
The soldiers of Loos wore grim expressions. Helmets shadowed their faces, but their eyes burned with cold resolve. Every man understood: this was no ordinary battle. This was their chance to break the orc aerial supremacy once and for all.
---
The Orcs Attack
From high above, a griffin rider spotted the camp. His beak twisted into a grin. "There! The humans are waiting like sheep in a pen. Kill them!"
The Griffin Legion swooped. Dozens, then hundreds, folded their wings and dove toward the camp, spears lowered, screeching like harbingers of death.
Their favorite tactic was cruel and theatrical: to spear a human through the body, then climb skyward again with the writhing victim impaled, screaming, until life ebbed away. They had done this to Suno City's helpless townsfolk—and they intended to do the same to the disciplined soldiers below.
"Ready!" cried a Loos officer, his voice steady. His men tightened their grips on the mounted weapons.
"They're coming in!"
The griffins closed the distance, their spears glinting in the light. The orc riders howled with bloodlust. Victory already seemed certain in their minds.
---
The Sky Turns Into Hell
From the edge of his command tent, Gavin Ward watched the descent with a thin, mocking smile. "Dare to dive into my camp?" he muttered. "Fools."
His voice cut the air like a blade: "Fire!"
The order echoed instantly across the camp.
Anti-aircraft guns thundered. The ZPU-2s spat out 14.5mm rounds at a blistering rate. MG42 machine guns opened up in deafening bursts. The sky itself seemed to tear as tracers streaked upward in fiery lines.
Bullets tore through the first wave of griffins. Riders screamed as their bodies were shredded mid-air. Feathers, blood, and fragments of armor rained down like a grotesque storm.
The 14.5mm shells didn't just pierce—they annihilated. One round could rip an orc and griffin apart, tearing limbs from bodies, shredding flesh into chunks. A single burst transformed proud cavalry into red mist.
The air became a massacre.
Thousands of griffins had swooped down confidently; within seconds, the front ranks were obliterated. Screams filled the heavens, not of triumph, but of horror.
Those at the bottom died too quickly to cry out, bodies ripped into pulp before they could even raise their weapons. Those further above recoiled in terror, watching their comrades explode into pieces before their eyes.
"Pull up!" one rider shrieked. "Pull awa—" His words ended in a spray of blood as a shell punched through his chest.
Out of thousands who attacked, fewer than twenty managed to escape. They fled with terror in their eyes, griffins beating their wings frantically to escape the inferno below. The proud Griffin Legion was no more.
---
The Next Move
The battlefield fell eerily silent, broken only by the hiss of cooling barrels and the groans of dying beasts as they crashed into the earth. Smoke rose from shattered bodies. The trap had sprung perfectly.
An officer approached Gavin Ward, saluting sharply.
"Your Majesty, the orc air regiment is destroyed!"
"Good," Gavin said firmly. His voice carried over the camp. "First Regiment Commander! Take your regiment and ten tanks. Move at once and destroy the orc ground forces before they arrive!"
"Yes, sire!" The commander snapped to attention.
Gavin turned to the rest of his staff. His eyes hardened with ambition. "We cannot stop here. I will personally lead the march through the Kiswell Kingdom and into orc territory. Our objective is clear—the oil fields of the Beastman Empire. Those resources will fuel our war, and we will seize them."
"Your Majesty, we will not fail!" shouted the officers, saluting.
The camp erupted with renewed determination. The orcs had tasted their own blood; now it was time to strike deeper.
---
In the Skies Elsewhere
Far away, over the borderlands of the Tongsley Empire, the beating of massive wings echoed like thunder. A colossal dragon soared across the clouds, its shadow stretching for leagues below.
On its back rode Dragon Knight Eren, one of the elite knights under the banner of the Duke of the Golden Lion. His golden armor glinted in the sun, but his expression was far from proud. His brow was knit with deep worry.
Though no orders had been given, Eren had taken his dragon to the skies alone. The Duke had not commanded a search for the missing Lusia—but Eren could not rest. His heart was restless, for he harbored feelings for her that went beyond duty.
"Lusia," he murmured into the rushing wind. "Where are you?"
The dragon roared as though sharing his pain, its wings carving through the clouds. Ahead, the mountains and valleys of the Loos Kingdom stretched before them.
Eren's eyes burned with anger. "If anything has happened to her… if she has vanished within Loos territory… then I will hold them responsible."
His gaze turned toward the Loos border, filled with a mixture of love, dread, and vengeance.
"Wait for me, Lusia," he whispered. "I will find you."
With a thunderous beat of wings, the dragon surged forward, bearing its rider into the storm of war that was only just beginning.
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