Who were these newcomers? One was the leader of a clan on the eve of becoming a sect, and the other was the third elder of the Golden Crown Sect. The leader of the Black Lily Clan and the man with a golden halo above his white hair were joining the war with their own clones by sacrificing ten percent of their powers.
Creating a clone was a double-edged sword; if it died, you lost all your power you used to create it. Also, even if these clones won, the energy they consumed while fighting being a permanent loss was inevitable; although it could use the might of the power it was created with to the end, its disadvantages were big.
"We will end this disgrace immediately and return to the sect; I will decide on your punishment later!"
"This untalented son is willing to accept all kinds of punishment!"
When Maria de León bowed respectfully, the old man's attack was already ready; two powerful figures newly joining the war had taken action at the same time.
There was a paper piece in the shape of a lily in the hand of the man with the grey robe appearing where the half-orc and three warriors of the Elite Ten were. He left this paper slowly into the magic circle appearing under him; a breath later, the circle from which grey fog started to spread was covered with black flames.
The fog was thin and transparent, but the energy it emitted didn't resemble any of the techniques Severo used before. Silhouettes of suffering people were appearing on the fog condensing drop by drop slowly; a tiny drop was covered with countless faces.
While countless droplets floated in the air, the energy they harbored inside had reached daunting dimensions; the aim of the Leader of the Black Lilies was a great slaughter.
At the same moments, the tall man standing against Bookworm aimed his staff appearing from nothingness at the Orc Steppes Army and was feeding the circle formed by the spell he would cast with magical words.
Maria de León's staff had lost all its magnificence beside the item of the newcomer. Unlike hers, this weapon with a single stone on its top looked much more frightening. The staff harboring a blue magic crystal looking at purple possessed a milk-colored body.
As it absorbed energy from the magic circle, it was scattering lights around, as if giving signals that it would make a terrifying attack a little later.
Indeed, before five seconds passed, the weapon of the Third Elder of the Golden Crown started to spew flames. Unlike the usual, flames were bright white, not red; they were like lavas scattered after the explosion of a volcano made of light.
They were advancing in froths onto the Orc Steppes army; they were carrying death together with grey raindrops coming from a place not very far away.
The Orc-Druid partnership didn't remain indifferent to developments; those able to perform magical attacks and those whose weapons were suitable for this struggle didn't wait for a moment to rush forward.
Bookworm was leading these; he drove the Five-Headed King Cobra forward against white flames. Together with him, druids in the vicinity released their protective spells, and orcs their power animals and attacks.
A similar scene was experienced on the ground too; the half-orc drove Severo's clone forward, and Elite Ten members beside him also joined him. The orc warrior couple Wind of Death and her husband Çekiçdöven, having split their enemies in two, were right behind the clone.
Leonardo couldn't remain unresponsive either; reassembling the weapon that was Hank's invention, he sent thousands of exploding cannonballs onto the attack of number three of the Golden Crown. The duo appearing on the battlefield later had entered head to head directly with warriors who made their enemies kneel until now.
The power of the Orc-Druid partnership was like unbridled horses. When they entered the sea of grey rain and white fire, the collision of two opposing forces made earth and sky groan. After the collision continuing for ten breaths, the joint attack of thousands of people started to suppress and destroy the attack of two people slowly.
Orcs' eyes were filled with determination to fight; they believed they could crush and pass whatever the enemy's might was. They weren't wrong either; they had defeated the magnificent attacks of new opponents, with this thought they were advancing without cutting speed.
Until they saw something five times bigger than attacks they prevented coming onto them, they attacked with ambition; the Leader of the Black Lilies and the Third Elder of the Golden Crown had finally become serious.
This was bad news; the duo seeing the diameter of the enemy had increased the violence not once, not twice, but exactly five times.
The Orc Steppes Army didn't cower; together with the Druid Liberation Army from which it received support, it collided once more with the disaster that would drag them to death. They succeeded in balancing it at first too, but the power inequality between them was revealing itself every moment.
First, those relatively weak fell; their constantly increasing numbers were weakening forces resisting the attacks of the duo.
A minute later, Orcs fell to half of the initial number; although they didn't die thanks to their commanders meeting attacks in front, they were being thrown away due to their exhausted energies. When a while more passed, only the upper command echelon remained standing; they were living their last moments in white flames and grey rain.
Orcs, attacking by shouting as if using their last powers, finally dispersed the attack possessing gigantic power; they had dispersed it all right, but they were also finished themselves.
Everyone except Bookworm, Wind of Death, Çekiçdöven, Kuyag, Vahşiduvar, Kübey, and Elite Ten members was on the ground. Those standing weren't considered very well either; blood was leaking from many of their mouths, there were big holes on their armors, countless wounds opened to the bone on their bodies.
"We can present this as an excuse for your failure Maria, we underestimated Orcs and Druids too much."
The one speaking was the middle-aged man standing beside the kneeling beautiful woman; while looking at the halo above his head with amazement, words were spilling from his mouth one by one. Although he could use only ten percent of his original power, appearing on the Wild Swamp was a heavy insult made to him according to his perspective.
Unlike him, the other person with whom he organized an attack together was very angry; he was swearing by looking at his son lying doubled over due to kicks he received.
"Useless, sack of shit!"
The Golden Crown was a sect even if in a low class; after spending so much power while the influence his ancestors left him was still a clan, even his place could fall into danger.
"Fortunately, they haven't fully developed yet; the snake's head must be crushed while it is small!"
Seeing the finished state of the enemy, Severo's father didn't lose time; taking out another paper with various symbols on it, he threw it into the magic circle. Then, a power as big as the one he used in his second attack would be released; the man with the grey robe was planning a ruthless blow against the fallen opponent.
Flames in the color of light had risen in waves; although two civilizations were enemies to each other, they didn't lack some common points as war methods.
Not long, minutes ago, attacks they could withstand with difficulty with tens of thousands of people were coming toward them again; toward orcs and druids. A few people remaining standing grasped their weapons; they had no other choice but to do the best they could for millions of warriors standing behind them.
However, when grey rain and lavas made of light came right in front of them, despair would catch their hearts in a tight grip. A voice from inside them was telling them to turn, run as fast as possible.
The one speaking was the survival instinct; its voice was coming out very loud at the moment of life and death. Orc warriors looked at each other involuntarily; a silent conversation took place between them in the blink of an eye.
Then for some unknown reason, a weird smile came and settled on their lips; whether their warrior sides weighed heavier or their loyalty to their lineages was unknown, they took action toward the attack coming onto them.
On one side there were two big attacks, and on the other side, a handful of orc warriors. When less than twenty meters of distance remained between them, inequality had been revealed much more clearly. There was nothing not to understand; orcs were running to death, they were advancing by shouting war cries knowing full well they wouldn't succeed.