"For the Alliance!" Hearing Uther's voice, the Silver Hand Paladins shouted back in unison.
Their spirits soared, and the Paladins battered the already disadvantaged Orcs Forces until they could do nothing but defend themselves.
The elite Orc warrior crashed heavily onto the grass. His momentum dragged his massive body another seven or eight meters across the ground. Instinctively, he braced a hand against the earth to rise again, only for a piercing pain to shoot through his arm. At the same time, his innards churned, and a hot surge rushed up his throat.
"Blargh!" The high-ranking elite Orc warrior opened his great mouth involuntarily, and bright red blood gushed out like a fountain. His entire body immediately went limp on the ground.
Am I going to die? He knew his arm was ruined, and he knew the impact had ruptured his internal organs. His blood-red pupils began to dilate. He desperately wanted to stand again and shout for blood and honor, but he could no longer so much as move a finger.
In that final instant before leaving the world, he thought of so many things. Countless scenes from his past flashed through his mind. Gradually, the last light faded from his widening eyes, and his body began to grow cold. When he finally stopped breathing, a strange smile still lingered on his face.
No one knew what he had thought of before dying. Perhaps no one would ever care.
After several more elite warriors fell in succession, the Orc Vanguard could no longer turn the tide. With the outcome beyond doubt, they fought to the last man as Uther and his Paladins cut them down.
The battle was over, leaving bodies strewn across the ground. There were Orcs and humans alike, though far more of the former. Riderless mounts