But they did not see the guards' fear or retreat.
The first row of guards stood motionless like reefs, holding enormous tower shields. Facing the rapidly charging Orcs, their expressions beneath their full helmets were as cold as their steel armor.
"Ready—" A captain in the rear raised his sword, preparing to give the order.
The howling Orcs were only a few meters away, their sharp fangs bared. Only then did the captain slash his sword downward and roar a single word: "Thrust!"
The spearmen in the second row, who had long been prepared, swiftly leveled their five-meter spears and lunged forward. The spears shot through the narrow openings in the first row's shields, thrusting fiercely ahead. They met the front ranks of the Orcs' first charge head-on. The sharp spearheads pierced their bodies without resistance. The blood grooves in the spears sent the wounded Orcs' blood streaming, while the massive wounds drained away their last strength.
But the slaughter did not end. As the first row of Orcs was impaled, the Orcs behind them could not halt their momentum. They continued crashing into the dense formation of spears, only to be pierced in turn, creating an image like the roasted meat skewers they had just eaten.
"Ah!" The wounded who had not been struck in vital areas let out their final screams. The other Orcs hanging from the spears were either dead or about to die.
The Orcs behind them finally stopped charging, staring in terror at this killing machine filled with order and violent beauty. There were no battle cries, no clamor, no fear. Only the chill reflected from the cold iron armor.
"Withdraw!" the captain ordered again. The spearmen swiftly pulled back their spears. The Orc corpses skewered upon them were caught by the first row of