The renowned Grom Hellscream once again tasted despair.
Ogres had defeated Grom before, hanging him from the trunk of a dead tree and leaving him exposed to the scorching sun for days.
But that had been because the despicable, shameless ogres had laid a trap and mustered a large force to defeat the Warsong Clan.
This time, he was experiencing that same despair and helplessness in a fair duel!
As Gorehowl, reinforced with rage energy, clashed violently with the enemy's weapon again and again, the notches in its blade grew larger.
His stamina was also nearing its limit, and his weapon felt heavier and heavier.
Seeing that their chieftain was truly in trouble, the Wolf Riders drew their blades and joined the fight.
Interfering in a duel was something orcs who had not drunk demon blood would never do.
Now, however, they no longer had such a strong sense of shame.
There were no other factions present anyway. Once they killed this enemy, no one would know.
Although Grom was somewhat displeased by his subordinates' despicable behavior, he tacitly accepted it.
The enemy was extraordinarily powerful. Keeping this up would only lead to death!
Grom had a powerful desire to win.
If he could trade his life for his opponent's, he would do so without hesitation.
Yet even staking his life would not let him kill this opponent.
That was the most despairing thing of all!
Since he could not win a duel, they would overwhelm this powerful enemy with numbers.
As the Wolf Riders approached, they hurled all sorts of nets and grappling hooks.
Recognizing that the current situation met the newly established conditions for countermeasures, the Small Arcane Golem acted.
It decisively activated the Soul-Summoning Bell.
It had fewer people on its side, but ghosts could make up