"Are these the types you've been raving about for days saying enemy, enemy?"
The number two of the Black Lilies burst into a huge laughter as soon as he saw the druid forces consisting of approximately a thousand people; this action, to which his hair waving with morning winds added color visually, could easily be seen even from very far away, from the settlement.
"Who is this cross-dresser Nafız!"
As an orc warrior, Alyon, whose most hated situation was being humiliated by his enemy, was consulting his friend to learn the identity of the man he guessed was from the Hell Realm forces.
"Number two of your lover's clan, his name is Severo, he is a cur of the first order!"
Upon understanding who was meant by "your lover," all anger of the grey-haired orc flew away, leaving behind the unpleasant breeze of those stifling winds where regret catches and tosses a person.
Alyon was aware of what he did; there was a single remedy for his mistakes he couldn't return and correct. While stepping forward with slow but big strides, this thought was turning in the giant orc's mind.
"Gregoria, I apologize very much for the pains I caused and the ugly actions I did. I know you won't forgive me, but please listen to my words; take your uncle and leave this place, I don't want you to die together with others!"
Finishing his words, Alyon first kneeled, then extending his hands forward and bending his head enough to lean it on the soil, he lay on the ground almost prostrating at Gregoria's feet for forgiveness.
Rumors that the young woman was abused by an orc had already been heard by everyone long ago; in fact, the news was so old that it had even started to be erased from memories slowly.
Now, in refreshed minds, the echo of the event would be different from each other; some smiled, some frowned with the effect of the bad taste appearing in their mouths, but none became rude enough to raise hell like Severo.
"So this is that famous orc; I wonder how it felt to sleep with such an ugly thing?"
The number two of the Black Lilies was both laughing and shouting; how unsympathetic he was faced with the situation someone from his own civilization, even from the clan led by his father, fell into.
"Watch out sir!"
Amidst his laughter resembling neighing, Severo, romping with his black cloak, flinched with the voice of his bodyguard standing right behind him; he couldn't even wipe the sweat trickling from his forehead at these moments because a blood-red arrow head, entering through a crack it opened on the shield a span in front of his face, had approached him almost enough to touch his nose.
The eyes of two and a half million people witnessing what happened would turn to a single point; Nafız, drawing her thumb across her throat from one end to the other, was giving the necessary message to everyone.
The natural thing would be to run without looking back when you see a force of three million opposite you, especially if you consist of a thousand people, but right now while one orc was sparing his enemy's life, the other was attacking directly.
The entire occupation army, including Dragan who had seen so many struggles and spent his life on battlefields, was watching what happened with astonished looks in a state not knowing what to say.
"Attack, kill them all!"
The one shouting was the Number Two man of the Black Lilies, whose entire arrogance was erased as a result of death knocking on his door; turning to the army of five hundred thousand people under his command, he was ordering them to crush the enemy intending to take his life.
"What do you think you are doing Severo, I am the commander here! You might have to pay the price of a mistake you will make not only with your own life but with the future of the Black Lily Clan too!"
Four civilizations had decided jointly on the name Dragan, given the command of the three-million force; the punishment for a behavior ignoring this would certainly be really big for everyone to take a lesson.
"They overrated you mercenary; rest assured that when everything is over, I will tell in all details the helpless situation you fell into against a handful of losers!"
Fear of death, humiliation experienced in front of the public, and his orders being questioned by someone else would not only disturb the balance of the man dressed in black but also cause him to threaten those around him like a rabid dog not knowing where to attack.
"Did you not hear my order? If even a single one of you stays behind, I personally guarantee that your families won't die without suffering!"
Warriors joining the army on behalf of the Hell Realm had come to the point where words ended; no one could say anything to their marching on the army of a thousand druids using their top speed together with the weapons they grabbed.
Five hundred thousand people moving at the same time resembled the waters of a collapsed dam advancing madly by riding on top of each other; although the occupation army continued to advance along with them, it wasn't even possible to compare them with people feeling the whip of death on their backs.
"In a little while, you will be smashed to smithereens until not a single piece of you remains, but I won't stop here; I will go to the place called Orc Steppes and rip off the head of that bastard calling himself Khan too!"
Besides being ambitious, Severo was a man of the style to hide his grudges; hatred for orcs, constantly causing problems for them at the most critical moment of his clan's rise, was ravaging his heart covered with soot.
When the distance between the two armies reached seven hundred meters, druids receiving military training on the Orc Steppes would start to panic; these people were really daredevil youths, but undoubtedly anyone seeing an enemy force five hundred times larger than themselves coming upon them would give the same reaction.
"Calm down, everyone leave your shields and take your bows in hand!"
Alyon, the Supreme Commander of Orcs, hadn't hesitated to take the lead of armies in this war too; while watching the enemy's arrival with his eyes narrowed like two thin lines, he was taking his giant axe in his hand with calm movements.
Breaths were held; the moment of collision of about a thousand druids, standing against the gigantic force approaching tens of meters every second, was getting closer gradually.
Five hundred meters.
Four hundred meters.
Three hundred meters.
Two hundred meters.
When the first warrior from inside the gigantic crowd stepped on the one-hundred-meter border, it meant collision was at blinking distance, and indeed painful screams that would make the entire battlefield groan had started to be heard a second later.
How weird it is that those attacking by shouting wild war cries a few seconds ago and those groaning in grief right now were the same people.
Just a few steps inside the one-hundred-meter distance seemed drawn with an invisible border; whoever dared to cross this was doomed to be torn to pieces within seconds.
Hell Realm warriors, attacking at their top speeds locking on their target, couldn't stop in time although they saw what happened; due to the speed of the mass coming from behind them, they were forced to cross the border determining death and life involuntarily.
"What... What is happening!"
The Second Man of the Black Lilies was so sure of his victory that he had already put that victory mask he loved most on his face; his completely different visage from what came out of his mouth was giving him an even more stupid appearance than he was at these moments.
"Give the retreat signal, otherwise we will lose all Hell Realm warriors!"
Although Dragan couldn't be fully sure, he had taken priority to take action in the light of the thought appearing in his mind; this was the only way to save the warriors attacking recklessly with the force of their commanders.
"Archers ready!"
Alyon, seeing the enemy slow down, ordered the same thing to the army consisting of a thousand druids while stretching the bow he took in his hand.
"Fire at Will!"
It wouldn't take long for the sky to fill with arrows; Hell Realm warriors, managing to stop by spending all their powers, had another problem now.
Warriors, who spent perhaps a few times the effort they spent for the attack not to bow to the pressure created by their friends coming from behind, could only trust their luck faced with the attack they were caught in defenseless.
Unfortunately, a requirement of being weak was calculating all kinds of possibilities and taking precautions accordingly; forces led by Alyon trusted not only their own bows but also mechanical devices capable of shooting hundreds of arrows at a time they hid among the units.