They didn't say history consists of repetition in vain; comrades fighting shoulder to shoulder in the great war were here with a full roster except for one or two people.
"Where is the groom?"
While scanning the group, Alyon couldn't see his daughter's husband and Çekiçdöven, who was considered the nephew of the Alyon whose consciousness he inherited.
"I just want to fight today; I asked him to take command of the army!"
Wind of Death was her father's daughter; she was fulfilling all her responsibilities properly, but there was nothing that made her as happy as taking her axe in her hand and mowing down the enemy.
"Is that so!"
How developed Alyon's daughter's impulsive movements and unyielding attitude were; she could transfer the responsibility she believed would be done properly to someone else and take steps for her own satisfaction.
Meanwhile, minutes full of movement were experienced in the enemy army's headquarters just like on the Druid Settlement.
Forces of four civilizations, considering the fact that the true color of the business changed, were forced to go for a strategy change rapidly.
"Enemy armies have passed to a state more than twice our size numerically together with the forces joining last; what can we do in this situation where retreating is impossible?"
Dragan might have taken charge of the army of three million people, but he wasn't aware of the secret cards other allies hid except his own civilization.
"Numbers have no importance against absolute power; when the war starts again, I will send the elite force of ten thousand people under my command to the front lines!"
Severo had bad intentions; his intention was to drive the ten thousand warriors his clan allocated specially for him from among all Hell Realm warriors to the front front as well.
"I don't think I have a remedy other than doing the same action either!"
Maria de León was joyless because she would have to use some of her trump cards; even though they were allies right now, she didn't want to reveal her powers in front of Hell Realm people.
"You know that as Mercenaries, we are taking part on the battlefield with our force of one and a half million in total, five hundred thousand of which were hired by the Machine Empire. My civilization sent one hundred thousand gold-level warriors to the Wild Swamp just for today; I will also use all the power in my hand as the commander of the united forces!"
When Dragan spoke, it became clear that besides the number of warriors who could fight actively on the front, elite units that would make a difference would also join the struggle. Together with twenty thousand warriors sent by second-class powers on the Hell Realm and Lands of Light, one hundred thousand gold-level warriors of Mercenaries were a terrifying power enough to make those hearing it unable to believe their ears.
Although not as rare as platinum warriors, Gold-level warriors weren't types you could find easily everywhere either; if one wanted to hire them, they would have to consider high costs.
Now knowing that one hundred thousand of them would appear on the battlefield at the same time had given commanders of four civilizations confidence albeit a little.
"You miserable creatures multiplying like insects listening to me!"
While being so boosted in morale, Severo, the commander of Hell Realm units, wouldn't be able to stop without stepping forward due to his character; his aim was to draw the enemy army upon themselves.
"Will you continue hiding while being numerically superior too; if you have courage, I am waiting for you on the square!"
Dragan also contented himself with just watching the long-haired man without interfering this time; it wasn't the time to say no to such motivating speeches for his forces whose morale was broken.
"What is this idiot talking about again!"
Alyon would speak without looking at Severo shouting at the top of his lungs; although he could get his own army hyped up, the representative of the Hell Realm had not the slightest effect on enemy ranks.
"Grandpa, is the one speaking the person who came here on behalf of the Black Lily Clan?"
I guess one shouldn't speak generally; a person from inside the orc group was asking his question by adding deep hatred colors into his words.
"His name is Severo, the eldest son of the leader of the clan you mentioned!"
The answer would come from Nafız; she could guess the motivation of Bookworm's half-orc son.
"Ha! ha! Ha! Finally the day I expected has come; I never thought it would be this quick. He is my prey; let everyone fight knowing this!"
Words uttered by the orc who hadn't even received his name yet in a place where so many important figures gathered exceeded his stature; although he had blood ties with Alyon, those knowing Nafız a little bit would be quite uneasy.
"Let it be so brat; we will accept your rightful request!"
Those expecting a small-scale tension to occur were astonished, and those who witnessed the reactions the female orc gave to such movements personally didn't know what to say.
"Alyon, Khan is not fully dominant on these lands, and since he cannot draw energy, his effect will lift slowly. While our enemy is eager, let's finish this job on the field of contest!"
The protector of Orcs was invincible on his own lands; being in interaction with every inch of the piece of land he dominated completely was the sole source of his unending energy.
There was a limit to what Khan could do in the chaotic environment of the Wild Swamp; as time passed, the result would be determined by the superiority parties would establish over each other.
"Cowards coming from all four corners of the world to torment our friends, you will learn this very well: Orcs and Druids decided to fight shoulder to shoulder again!"
When Severo spoke, the morale of the army behind him had risen, but when the turn came to Alyon, the five-million force was about to go crazy.
In the full sense of the word, commanders were restraining units under their orders with difficulty; orcs, soldiers of trade cities, and mercenaries coming from various parts of the world and offering their services to Khan were looking forward to the start of the war.
"The time has come to show you how an attack is made!"
When Alyon lowered his hand in the air, the Orc Steppes Army receiving the signal would go on the attack with all its majesty. The feet of three million orcs were rising and falling ambitiously as if wanting to pierce the ground; the army formed by four civilizations had no choice left but to respond with all its power.
"Forward!"
When Dragan drove his slowly melting army to the battlefield no matter what he did, an unpleasant expression came and settled on his face; his field of expertise was tactician-ship, and this decision he made would perhaps be the most stupid move he made for years.
Although he was aware of this inwardly, he also knew that the three people beside him wouldn't come empty-handed; when such heavy cannons got involved, they would definitely come together with some surprises.
While calculations were made in the main camp of the two armies as if grass gets trampled while elephants romp, those running to war in the front lines had already engaged each other. What happened was almost the embracing of two raging waters overflowing by breaking their dam; they were hugging each other without refraining, without hesitation, with all their speeds.
Green water was a little wilder by nature; purified from unnecessary emotions, it just wanted to flow forward. As obstacles appeared in front of it, it got vicious; it knew no remedy other than adding whatever its eye saw in front of it and dragging it.
The orc army would proceed in this way until a barrier difficult to overcome appeared in front of them too; after destroying weak warriors the enemy put forward, the turn had come to the line supported by elite units.
Orcs flocking onto humans who planted their shields on the ground to cut their relentless advance would lose their speed for the first time; elite units taking this opportunity were raining down whatever they had in their hands.
Energy-loaded weapons, magical attacks, materials coming out of portable fire-arm mechanical devices had targeted green creatures thinking only of attacking.
"Sir!"
The number one of the Elite Ten seeing the view was right beside Alyon; there was no need to be a seer to understand that he asked for permission to join the ongoing war.
"You haven't lost your place to anyone for so many years; I want to see with my own eyes how much you developed!"
When the most authorized mouth of the Orc Steppes Army said what was necessary, ten orc warriors inside armors black as night headed toward the battlefield step by step.
In their eyes, which were their only exposed places, there were emotions hidden behind calmness: arrogance, anger, ambition, and many more were chasing just a tiny moment to emerge.