Victory

Allen had never imagined that Klethi, with her habit of acting on her own initiative, had already accomplished his objective for this battle. By the time he rejoined his men, Bolg had ordered the Half-orcs into the river channel. Fighting broke out midway along it, where Allen and his dozen or so men blocked the passage and repelled wave after wave of probing attacks.

Bolg stood at the entrance to the river channel with thirty or forty Warg Riders. Furious as he was, he knew that a commander could not throw himself into battle right away. His father's cautionary example was still vivid in his mind, and he had no desire to suffer that humiliation himself. He was also puzzled. Why did a mere dozen men dare stand in his way? It was strange, but that did not stop him from spending his Half-orcs' lives to wear down Allen and his elite soldiers. Then, when he judged the moment right, he would charge in and finish them off.

Meanwhile, he had also tried shooting Allen and his men. Unfortunately, even after he exhausted his arrows, he had failed to get past the Nord Royal Guards' shields or Allen's sweeping greatsword. They had set out to trade at Orc Town, never imagining that anyone would be bold enough to ambush them here. Bolg himself had only brought his bow and arrows because he particularly enjoyed archery.

As Allen repeatedly drove the enemy back, he and his soldiers slowly retreated through the darkness. During this time, Beorn repeatedly offered to transform into a giant bear and join the fighting, but Allen refused every time. It was not time yet.

Only when the main body of pursuing Half-orcs reached the foot of the cliff where the Woodland Dwellers lay hidden did Allen roar and lead his men forward instead of retreating. They cut into the Half-orc ranks along the left side of the tunnel, slaughtering them like a hot knife slicing through butter. At the sight, Beorn knew his moment to join the battle had arrived.

With a howl of pain, his body began to swell. Within moments, he had become a giant bear two or three meters tall and nearly four meters long. His expanding body burst the bandages wrapped around him, and wounds that had stopped bleeding began to seep blood again. Beorn ignored them. He charged straight toward the right side of the tunnel, sending a dozen Half-orcs flying in a single collision and keeping pace with Allen's charge.

Upon receiving the signal, Otta ordered the Woodland Dwellers on the cliff to light their prepared bundles of firewood and throw them onto the Half-orc ranks below. They followed these with the remaining jars of oil, splashing it across a broad swath of Half-orcs. Flames flared amid agonized screams, illuminating everyone on both sides. Many Half-orcs fled in terror, but Bolg and several dozen Warg Riders waited behind them. Any who ran back were pursued by the riders and bitten to death by their Wargs. Driven to despair, the Half-orcs could only charge at Allen and his men like mad creatures.

Allen had overlooked one thing-or perhaps the tension of command had made him forget it. Half-orcs were exceptionally good climbers, at least those of the Misty Mountains were. The Woodland Dwellers could not stand on the cliff and shoot undisturbed in front of them. Climbing Half-orcs were bound to engage them.

Otta knew this. Having dealt with Half-orcs in the Misty Mountains for years, how could he not? Yet he also considered this an excellent ambush site, and the cliff was relatively safe. Allen and his heavily armored infantry were down in the river channel, facing the enemy's attacks head-on. What more could Otta say?

In truth, Otta had had little interest in rescuing the Skin-changers from the start. He had heard of their reputation, but they lived much farther north in the Misty Mountains, while his people lived near the High Pass. The distance between them was too great, and they ordinarily had no dealings with one another. But Allen had given the order. They had joined him less than a month ago and were living fairly well. Otta had no wish to disobey him.

What Otta had not expected was how smoothly the hunters assembled. The young men of his people were eager to volunteer. Of course, living in the Misty Mountains, whose family had no grudge against the Half-orcs? They were delighted to have a chance to go out and kill them.

Deeply familiar with Half-orcs, Otta kept watching their movements below after launching the attack.

Sure enough, once Bolg discovered the ambushers on the cliff, he immediately ordered some Half-orcs who had not yet joined the fighting to climb up. They soon ascended from the other side. Ready for them, Otta led the Woodland Dwellers into close combat with their great axes drawn. Before long, the Woodland Dwellers began taking light casualties.

Then Alayen and the nine personal guards under his command stepped forward. They dropped their heavy crossbows, raised the broad shields they had laboriously carried up, and drew the pointed clubs at their waists. Under Alayen's leadership, they rushed toward the Half-orcs and formed a shield wall across their approach, protecting the Woodland Dwellers behind them. More of the Woodland Dwellers recovered their wits and began shooting at the Half-orcs climbing below the ledge. At the other end of the river channel, Deshavi also used the firelight to shoot those scaling the wall. The fighting here settled into a stalemate.

Meanwhile, Allen and his men regrouped into a line across the river channel. It was not that he did not want to keep charging. There were simply too many Half-orcs blocking their path. Whenever he killed one, another immediately took its place. If they pushed farther, Allen and his men would soon be surrounded. There were still too few of them. They could only withstand the Half-orcs' attacks and bottle them up in the channel, giving the Woodland Dwellers on the ledge more opportunities to kill them.

In his giant bear form, Beorn was unstoppable among the Half-orcs. Those in his path were hurled aside or torn apart in great numbers. Allen's original arrangement with him had been to stay near his troops and help kill the Half-orcs, so they could support one another. But that plan went off course from the very beginning.

Once transformed into a giant bear, Beorn seemed unable to control his emotions properly. Roaring in fury, he smashed his way forward and soon left Allen's troops behind, charging alone toward Bolg.

Watching Beorn charge through the Half-orcs toward him, Bolg's expression grew even more savage. He shouted to the Warg Riders beside him, "Prepare the Giant Net!"

The Warg Riders beside Bolg brought out an enormous rope net entwined with silver metal thread. Four riders held it high and charged toward Beorn.

Bolg had specially made this Giant Net to deal with Skin-changers who could turn into bears. Woven into it were threads made from a bright silver metal, which his father had plundered after occupying Moria and then bestowed upon him. They were extraordinarily tough. Bolg had combined those metal threads with hemp rope to make an enormous net. Despite its size, it was not particularly heavy, and weights attached to its four corners made it easy to throw. Once it covered its prey, no beast had ever escaped.

Charging at full speed through the Half-orcs, Beorn saw the Giant Net raised by the four Warg Riders and suddenly shuddered. Terrible memories jolted him back to his senses. He stopped dead in his charge, spun around, and raced back toward Allen like mad.

The Warg Riders were not about to let Beorn escape so easily. They knocked aside the Half-orcs blocking their path and kept charging after him. But Beorn had already reached a narrower stretch of the river channel, where the Giant Net could not spread out. Throwing it there might only catch more of their own troops. With no other choice, the Warg Riders retreated with the net.

Several Woodland Dwellers on the ledge noticed these unusual Warg Riders and raised their bows to shoot them down. They killed the two Warg Riders in front, dropping the Giant Net they had held aloft into the tightly packed Half-orcs. Its enormous mesh caught around many of their heads. The trapped Half-orcs dragged down the riders still running toward Bolg, and the entire net fell over their own ranks. Chaos erupted in that section of the army.

At the sight, Bolg roared in fury and ordered several nearby Warg Riders to race over, lift the Giant Net off the Half-orcs' heads, and retrieve it.

After running back to Allen, Beorn behaved much better, working with his troops to slaughter the Half-orcs in front of them.

With Beorn's help, the pressure on Allen and his men abruptly eased, and they killed the Half-orcs much faster. For a time, the scales of victory seemed to tip toward Allen.

Gradually, the flames in the tunnel dwindled, and darkness returned. The humans struggled to readjust after the light faded. The Nord Royal Guards and Woodland Dwellers were already exhausted. Only Allen and Beorn continued their slaughter among the Half-orcs. In the darkness, the Half-orcs could clearly see those two figures, like gods of slaughter, seemingly tireless as they butchered their kin.

At last, having lost more than half their number, the Half-orcs in the river channel could no longer hold and broke in a mass rout. Even when Bolg ordered the Warg Riders to kill the first to flee, he could not stop their collapse. They fled wildly along the tunnel they had come through.

Bolg was not particularly surprised by the sight. He had expected it. He knew his foolish subordinates could never kill Allen and his men on their own.

Now, Bolg felt, the moment had come to deliver the fatal blow. His enemies were exhausted, and the tunnel had returned to the darkness his troops favored. The flames that frightened the Wargs were gone, and in the dark they no longer needed to worry about arrows from the cliff.

Convinced he had an excellent chance of winning, Bolg roared the order to attack and led his Warg Riders charging into the river channel, sweeping up to Allen.

Bolg believed that once he killed the dozen elite soldiers blocking his path and that bear, he would not even need to concern himself with the archers on the cliff. By guarding the area around it, he could retain the initiative and kill them whenever he pleased.

Allen had not led his men after the fleeing Half-orcs. He had seen that enormous net. If they charged into open ground, they would only be waiting for Bolg's Giant Net to fall over them. Instead, he kept his men in the narrow stretch of the river channel.

In fact, Allen had worried about the prisoners throughout the battle. Since Bolg's contingent had not entered the river channel, the prisoners remained in the distant darkness of the tunnel. Allen feared that, after losing, Bolg might kill them in a fit of frustrated rage. If that happened, this battle to rescue them would have been fought for nothing.

Soon, Allen no longer needed to worry. Just as Bolg led his Warg Riders into the river channel, Allen saw three enormous figures appear at its far end in the faint, lingering firelight.

Bolg still had no idea what was behind him. Seeing that Allen refused to come out, he ordered the Warg Riders to bring out the net anyway and throw it toward Allen as they charged. Watching the Giant Net fly through the air, Allen raised his greatsword, intending to throw it and interrupt the net's descent. But others moved faster. Ten Nord Royal Shields flew toward it in succession. Checked by the shields, the Giant Net fell to the ground.

Allen glanced at the Nord Emperors on either side, now gripping their battle-axes with both hands. Laughing, he raised his greatsword and ran toward the charging Warg Riders. Beorn was faster still. Ignoring the wounds covering his body, he pounced on the riders and bit precisely into a Warg's neck. Using its body as a weapon, he swung it from side to side in the four- or five-meter-wide channel, immediately disrupting the Wargs' charge. The Nord Royal Guards drew the throwing axes they had yet to use from their belts and hurled them at the Warg Riders, bringing Bolg's charge to a halt.

Soon, three enormous figures appeared behind the Warg Riders. They were three giant bears, slightly smaller than Beorn. Only recently freed from the Half-orcs' restraints, they had hidden behind a boulder under Klethi's guidance. After eating some food she provided, they had recovered a little strength.

From behind the boulder, they had watched the Half-orcs flee in great numbers and seen Bolg lead the Warg Riders into the river channel.

Driven by hatred of the Half-orcs and concern for Beorn, they quietly rose and walked to the entrance of the river channel.

Klethi's eyes widened in shock as she watched them transform into giant bears before her and charge into the river channel, cutting off Bolg's retreat.

Bolg noticed the Skin-changers in bear form. How could he have missed them? After Beorn disrupted the Warg Riders' charge, they appeared behind the riders. Though in poor condition, their enormous weight was a weapon in itself. A casual swipe or collision could send a Warg Rider flying.

Bolg knew he was in danger. His retreat had been cut off, and someone had rescued the prisoners. Events had changed far too quickly, but he did not panic. Years of fighting had given him the ability to make sound judgments in a crisis. Now he searched for a way to survive. Yes, survival was what mattered. Three enormous bears completely blocked his retreat, while fighting raged ahead. But he was not entirely trapped. His escape lay in front of him.

Watching closely, Bolg discovered that apart from Beorn and Allen, the others ahead could barely raise their weapons as they struggled with the Warg Riders. Though time favored Allen's side, killing all the riders immediately was impossible.

At that moment, several Warg Riders had Allen and Beorn separately occupied, leaving neither free to deal with Bolg. Seizing his opportunity, Bolg shouted orders to the riders beside him. Reckless of their lives, they charged the Nord Royal Guards, who were already struggling against the riders in front of them.

On the Calradia Continent, the Nord Royal Guards were powerful. They were the only infantry who could wield great axes on open plains and fight Swadia Knights to a standstill, ample proof of their prowess. But compared with Allen or Beorn, they were still only ordinary men. Encased in heavy armor, they had already killed countless Half-orcs. Under Allen's leadership, their spirits remained high, but their stamina was failing. Beneath the Warg Riders' suicidal charge, some finally gave way and were knocked to the ground.

After knocking down the Nord Royal Guards, Bolg did not pause. He led the surviving Warg Riders in a wild dash toward Orc Town. Deshavi, who had been shooting from the rear, noticed him and loosed an arrow by instinct. Unfortunately, it merely grazed his scalp and flew past. Having missed, she quickly fired several more shots, killing a few of the Warg Riders fleeing with him.

Ignoring the black blood streaming over his face after the ambush, Bolg drove his Warg madly into the depths of the tunnel. He made a silent resolution. However humiliating it is, I'll borrow troops from that fat fellow and come back to avenge that arrow.

In fact, he encountered a scouting party sent from Orc Town along the way. After rallying those Half-orcs, Bolg charged back into the river channel.

Unfortunately, by the time he returned with a large force of Half-orcs, he found nothing but Half-orc corpses strewn across the ground. Even his Giant Net, which had served him unfailingly in the past, had vanished.

The stench of burned corpses filled the tunnel, making Bolg abandon the idea of tracking the enemy with the Wargs' sense of smell.

Whatever his fury, Bolg at least had not abandoned his pursuit of Allen. He led his Warg Riders out of the tunnel and began searching throughout the area around Orc Town for traces of him.