Orcs Attack In Aurham [2]

-BAM!

"Dammit! They're fracturing the wall!"

"We have to do something!"

"Archers! There are only two on the walls! Aim for their eyes!"

"It's not working! They're deflecting it with their arms!"

The warriors stationed atop another watchtower peered down at the Orcs below. Towering over two meters tall, with thick arms and dark green skin adorned with bone necklaces and armor, the Orcs relentlessly pounded against the village walls. Their most striking features were the two large fangs protruding from their lower jaws.

Each impact sent tremors through the watchtower.

"W-What do we do, Denis?!" The men turned to Denis, the village's strongest defender. Since Alan's departure and Mark's death, he had assumed sole responsibility for the village's defense.

Denis, clad in armor like the rest of the warriors, stood below with his comrades.

In total, there were around thirty skilled warriors, all of whom were well-versed in combat. The rest of the villagers—women, children, and elders—were making their way to the safety house underground.

-BOOOM!

Meanwhile, the villagers watched in horror as more rocks rained down on their homes, buildings, and the ground, hurled by the Orcs lurking behind those pounding the walls. The cacophony of destruction was punctuated by anguished screams echoing throughout the village.

Denis clenched his fists, his voice caught in his throat.

-Bam!

"Denis! Snap out of it!"

"Ugh!" Denis staggered from the force of a sudden slap on his back.

Turning, he found himself face-to-face with Alan and Giles.

"A-Alan..."

"What's gotten into you, Denis?!" Giles' voice was stern, his eyes filled with urgency as he nursed his wound, tightened the bandage around his arm with his teeth before preparing his arrow.

"Giles..." Denis acknowledged, noting the seriousness etched on his friend's face. With determination, he glanced back at his men above, tirelessly launching arrows at the Orcs. Though their efforts seemed futile, they succeeded in slowing the attackers' advance.

"Giles, you're our best archer! Assist the men up there! We need to take down at least one of those Orcs!" Alan's command spurred Giles into action, a determined grin spreading across his face as he swiftly ascended the watchtower.

"What about the ones hurling boulders, Denis?! They're demolishing our homes, damn it!" one of the men, Darren said angrily.

"Homes can be rebuilt, idiot! But if those Orcs breach the walls, our families are in grave danger!" Denis retorted. 

Despite his concern about the danger posed by the flying rocks, Denis knew he had to take decisive action. If the Orcs breached their defenses, it would spell disaster. More Orcs would surely join the attack, overwhelming them with sheer numbers and making it nearly impossible to reclaim the village.

"You are doing well, Denis," Alan offered a reassuring smile.

Denis acknowledged Alan's words with a conflicted expression, his attention drawn to the sword in his hand. At first glance, it appeared to be a simple blade, but upon closer inspection, two runes were etched in silver along its length.

This was no ordinary sword; it was a Runic Sword, adorned with two powerful runes. Such a weapon was highly sought after and could fetch a hefty sum of gold from eager buyers. However, Denis harbored no intention of parting with it.

This sword was a precious gift from Mark, entrusted to Denis in his final moments. Mark's dying wish echoed in Denis's mind: "I entrust you with the village." It was a symbol of trust and responsibility, passed down from Mark's family to protect their home.

Alan noticed Denis's gaze lingering on the sword, a hint of sadness crossing his features as he recalled the confident grip with which Mark had wielded it.

"I need your help, Alan," Denis spoke with a grave tone.

"You can count on me." Alan replied with a grin, unsheathing a sturdy sword from his back. 

"Right. You have some basic Star Spells in your arsenal, don't you? We need a trap!" Denis asked.

"A trap?" Alan asked.

"Yes, exactly. Our defenses won't hold for long. We have to anticipate their breach and prevent them from advancing further. Once the wall is breached, reinforcements will pour in. We need to be ready for them," Denis explained, taking position in front of the crumbling wall.

With a resounding crash, tremors shook the ground, showering dust and debris.

Denis knelt down, pressing his hand against the ground. "Second Star Tier Spell! Pit!"

-Boom!

Another explosion reverberated as the ground caved in beneath Denis's touch, though not to the depth he desired.

But Denis pressed on. "Second Star Tier Spell! Pit!"

-Boom!

Another blast followed.

"What are you waiting for, Alan?! I need your help here!" Denis called out.

"Aye, coming!" Alan responded with a chuckle, driving his sword into the ground before casting the same spell as Denis, gouging the earth alongside him.

"Darren! Bring me the barrels we have prepared!" Denis asked with a yell.

"What are you thinking Denis?! We will die if we lose men!" Darren retorted.

"Shut up and bring them to me! We don't have time!" Denis shut him off.

Darren clicked his tongue as he glared at Alan before quickly rushing out. 

…

…

After three intense minutes of preparation, Denis and Alan stood up, sweat streaming down their foreheads from the strain of expending so much mana.

"I believe we're as ready as we'll ever be," Denis declared, wiping the sweat from his brow.

-BAAAM!

Another thunderous impact echoed as the Orcs launched another assault, causing the remaining watchtower to teeter dangerously.

"We can't hold them any longer, Denis!" Giles's voice rang out in panic.

"Everyone, take cover! The walls won't hold!" Denis commanded. "Archers, with me! Swordsmen, prepare to defend!"

The archers swiftly descended from the walls, positioning themselves a few meters behind Denis and Alan, who readied their swords. Meanwhile, those armed with swords and lances gathered around Denis and Alan, forming a defensive line.

"Maintain your distance, everyone!" Alan ordered.

As they arranged themselves in a semi-circle in front of the entrance, another deafening crash signaled the collapse of the upper portion of the wall, revealing the looming figures of two Orcs.

With feral grins, the Orcs prepared for their final assault, stepping back momentarily before charging forward.

"Prepare yourselves!" Denis shouted, his comrades tightening their grips on their weapons.

-BAAM!

As the wall crumbled entirely, the two Orcs let out a roar and charged towards the defenders.

"Giles!" Alan called out.

"Got it!" Giles, positioned a bit further back, pulled back a makeshift arbalest fashioned from two trees, with a lance loaded onto an elastic band. With all his strength, he released the contraption, sending the sharp lance hurtling through the air and catching the first Orc off guard, already weakened from previous arrow attacks.

-Spurt!

"Gruuuaa!" The Orc let out a guttural cry as the lance pierced through his eye, plunging into his brain, causing him to collapse to the ground.

"GRAAA!" The other Orc roared in fury, charging forward.

"Darren!" Denis called out urgently.

"I got it!" Darren responded, swiftly hurling a lance at the advancing Orc before it could close in.

The Orc, feeling the sting in his leg, snapped the lance in half before turning his attention to his right.

There, Darren stood with six others, wearing a mocking smile.

"INSECTS!! GRAAAH!" The Orc bellowed, shifting his focus to the new threat and charging towards Darren's group.

"Let's go, everyone!" Darren rallied his comrades, leading them away with a clear plan in mind.

"Nicely done," Denis praised with a satisfied smile.

"Don't celebrate too soon, Denis. They're coming," Alan cautioned, as the remaining four Orcs charged towards them.