3 The Ivory Blade

Lucas examined the academy from across the clearing. Surprisingly, it held firm against the raging battle, marred only by an occasional raven-black arrow here and there.

A group of teachers guarded the front, their faces weary, but determined. They used a variety of abilities to defend against the Orks, as well as the steadily approaching flames.

But with each passing second, their aura grew dimmer, which hinted at their exhaustion.

When the Fawnsrot Orks noticed this, a thunderous roar rang out, and they increased their attack.

Their hardened skin allowed them to ignore most abilities, while their cracked blades and heavy maces cleaved through the air, felling one man after another.

Lucas trembled at the sight. Pulling back his gaze, he paused when he spotted a group of adventurers fighting near the center.

They were led by a young man with short black hair, and an intimidating presence. He cut through the Orks with ease, but for each one he killed, two more would take its place.

"Kiro! I don't think we can hold on for much longer!" A fellow adventurer shouted, attempting to get the young man's attention.

He stomped his foot and lifted a stone wall, which repelled several Orkish arrows. "Our aura is almost depleted, and two of our companions are heavily wounded! Perhaps we should retreat..."

The man known as Kiro separated himself from the Orks and took note of his companions. Their movements were becoming increasingly sloppy, and several carried wounds from the battle.

A man near the back clutched his shoulder, where a feathered arrow pierced his armor, while another hunched near the group's healer, surrounded by a flickering light.

She did her best to mend his wounds, but her ability sputtered from overuse.

Kiro frowned and motioned for the group to stop. "We're heading back. Protect the wounded as I clear a path. If we're lucky, the escape tunnel will be finished by the time we return."

As he spoke, one of the Orks charged forward, brandishing a broken war hammer. Kiro scowled and parried the weapon, before swiftly beheading the Ork.

From there, he made his way to the back of the group and unsheathed a second sword. Much like the first one, it consisted of a dark blade with a razor-sharp edge.

Raising both swords to his shoulders, Kiro took a practiced stance and activated his ability. A cold cloud of mist spilled from his body and encased the nearby surroundings. Everything it touched turned to ice, including the dancing flames, which become an icy ornament.

A few of the Orks backed away warily, distancing themselves from the shimmering cloud. The others laughed at their cowardice, but not one dared to approach.

Kiro's eyes flickered as the cloud rose like a wave and rushed through the courtyard. The Orks scrambled to get out of the way, but none were quick enough to escape.

With his blades still drawn, Kiro slipped into the mist after them. Over the next ten minutes, it echoed with their rasping shouts and the clang of metal, but soon only silence remained.

As the cloud dispersed, Kiro could be seen standing atop a frozen pillar, surrounded by a sea of ice sculpted Orks. Each one expressed a look of pure terror, forever etched upon their faces.

The group of adventurers eagerly gathered around the pillar of ice as Kiro jumped down, and showered him with compliments. A muscular man carrying a shield approached with a massive grin and slapped Kiro's back.

"Haha! That was incredible! No wonder they call you the Frost Walker!"

Kiro ignored the man's praise and treaded a few steps before stopping. Sweat dripped from his flushed face as he gazed towards the edge of the forest.

"Kiro? Is there something wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?"

"We... we need to get out of here..."

"What? What are you talking about? Haven't you already defeated all the Orks?"

The adventurer pointed towards the countless dead Orks throughout the courtyard. Not a single one moved, so what could they possibly have to run from?

Kiro frantically shook his head as his body trembled.

"No, no. You don't understand, that was just the beginning. There are many, many more out there. And something else... Something much more dangerous than the Fawnsrot Orks!"

The other adventurers looked at one another before breaking out in laughter. Even if there were more Orks out there, how many more could there be? Surely Kiro was just jousting.

The young man scowled at their response and spun away. Without another word, he hurried back to the academy, leaving the group stumbling after him.

During this time, Lucas slipped from his hiding spot and darted to a nearby tree. A thicket of flames blocked his path to the academy, forcing him to find a new way inside.

With every passing second, the flames drew closer, threatening to trap him within. Unable to spot a path through, Lucas grabbed onto one of the branches above him and pulled himself up.

The branch creaked beneath his weight as he balanced atop it and caught his breath. Ignoring the smoldering bark beneath his palms, he took hold of the next branch up and began to climb.

Though his lungs soon filled with the scent of pine, and a flood of tears blurred his vision, he pushed upward, determined to reach the top.

Finally, he broke through the needles, gasping for breath as a fresh breeze cleared the smoke air. After using his cloak to dry his eyes, he scanned the grove of trees he called home.

Their pointed tops and twisted branches swayed in the howling wind, covered by a layer of ash as an eery orange glow crept below. Thick columns of smoke rose from beneath, eagerly condensing to block out the morning sun.

Lucas pulled his gaze back from the ominous black cloud swirling overhead and shifted it to the edge of the forest, where a sea of Orks and beasts swarmed across the ground.

They marched forward tirelessly, carrying spears and ropes, while two black banners waved behind them, emblazoned by an ivory stake and withered rose.

Near the center there stood four massive beasts, with dark grey skin, long-bladed trunks, and partially armored bodies. Strapped to their backs were catapults made from wood and rope, two of which were being reloaded.

"This... this can't be possible! How could there be such a large army of Orks this far into Delahost!" Lucas said.

He stared in disbelief at the sheer amount of Orks. They filled the land, to the point where even the ground beneath them disappeared.

Suddenly, an Ork twice as large as the rest jumped onto a broken rock and let out a ferocious shout. His muscles bulged as he raised a massive War-hammer into the air, before slamming it down with enough force to crack the rock in two.

The accompanying shockwave rolled across the plain and quickly gathered the rest of the Orks' attention.

What came next was a series of commands and orders, as well as rousing speech to ignite the Orks' desire for war.

Although Lucas couldn't make out what the Ork Cheif said, it appeared to have the desired effect on the rest of the army. Their roars and shouts reverberated through the clearing as they raised their weapons and stomped their feet.

Unable to resist their thirst for blood any longer, the Orks charged towards the forest, their weapons wildly swinging above their heads. Behind them, the Ork Chief let out a booming laugh and made his way to a being much smaller in comparison.

A pure white cloak draped from its shoulders, while an Ivory blade and snow-coated suit of armor adorned its body.

With only a few words, the being sent the Ork Chief off, before turning its attention back to the forest.

A gust of wind blew back the being's hood to reveal a pair of cold dead eyes and pale grey skin. Its long white hair waved in the breeze as its deathly gaze fell upon Lucas, leaving him weak and unable to move.

"Pathetic..."

The softly spoken words slipped across the clearing and echoed inside Lucas's ear, startling him to the point his grip slipped from the tree he held onto. With his mind still in a muddled haze, Lucas crashed back down through the branches and slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch.

A wave of pain shot through his body and cleared his mind in one fell swoop. Gasping for breath, he looked down to find several shattered ribs piercing his side, while a pool of blood grew beneath him.

'Is this it...? Am I really going to die here?' Lucas wondered, feeling his consciousness slowly slipping away. Summoning the last bit of strength he had, Lucas shifted his gaze in the direction of the academy.

By now, only a single wall remained standing, guarded by the few adventurers who were still alive. An ever-increasing horde of Orks surrounded them, using their numbers to overwhelm the exhausted warriors.

At first, Lucas was confused as to why the adventurers were still there. But when one of them fell, the space it created revealed a group of children cowering behind them. With clothes in tatters and soot-covered bodies, they trembled in terror from the onslaught around them.

At last, darkness descended upon Lucas, leaving the last thing he saw a young girl with curly brown hair. Her body shuddered as a raven-black arrow struck her shoulder, but she refused to move as a child hid in her arms.

'Goodbye, Lily...'

...

'Chirp... Chirp, chirp...'

Lucas awoke to the sound of a Glow Crickets chirping. Slowly forcing open his eyes, he found himself beneath a star-covered sky, adorned by two moons, one red and the other blue. The heat of a campfire warmed his side as he tried to sit up, but his body refused to move.

"Hey, you... You're finally awake?"