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Countless shells rained down from the sky, slamming into Su Nuo City one after another. Flames spread instantly, and thick black smoke rolled upward like storm clouds.
Buildings that had barely stood after days of orc occupation finally gave way under the barrage. Roofs collapsed, walls shattered, and rubble buried squads of orc soldiers who hadn't even had the chance to flee.
"What in the abyss is attacking us?!" an orc soldier screamed, spinning in panic.
"It must be human sorcery! Where are the human magicians?" another bellowed, his tusks clattering as he spun in place, searching desperately for invisible enemies.
The city was chaos. Orcs scattered like terrified beasts, shrieking as fires consumed whole blocks. The bombardment was so sudden, so unrelenting, that even veteran warriors froze in terror.
A werewolf soldier dragged himself across the blood-soaked ground. His lower body had been torn away by a blast, yet his arms clawed forward, leaving a grotesque trail. "Don't… look for magicians… save me…" he gasped, before his voice was drowned by another deafening explosion.
"Bastards!" Dan Ergu's roar echoed across the square. The massive orc warlord raised his double-headed axe toward the sky, spittle flying as his fangs gleamed in the firelight. "Find them! Find those human magicians! They dare strike us in our own city—I will cut off their heads myself!"
The city shook again. Boom, boom, boom! The ground quaked as an entire section of Su Nuo's wall crumbled beneath the relentless shelling. The once-mighty stone barrier collapsed in a storm of dust and thunder.
Orc soldiers froze. Fear replaced their battle cries. They weren't facing men—they were facing the judgment of gods.
---
The Griffin Legion
"The Griffin Legion, take off! Find the human mages!" a captain screamed, his voice cracking.
In the central square, hundreds of griffins shrieked, their wings beating the air into hurricanes. Orc riders scrambled onto saddles, tugging reins and shouting orders.
One griffin leapt into the sky, its enormous wings stirring dust storms beneath. Yet just as it climbed into the clouds, a shell slammed into its chest. The beast exploded midair in a blossom of fire and gore, crashing to the earth as nothing but charred remains.
"Beast God save us…" one cavalryman whispered hoarsely.
The rest faltered. Riders looked skyward, trembling at the thought that any one of them could be next. But the barrage didn't single them out—the city itself remained the target. Fires spread endlessly, explosions chasing orcs through every street.
Still, thousands of griffins managed to take off. The Legion swirled above the burning city, eyes sweeping the horizon. From the air, the devastation was worse than anyone imagined—streets glowing red with fire, explosions consuming orcs by the dozen, screams rising like the wails of the damned.
One rider muttered, "Beast God, where are they? Where are these cursed human magicians?" His knuckles whitened on the reins.
From the sky, the truth was clear: their army was being slaughtered like ants, devoured by unseen fire.
---
The Artillery Hill
"Keep firing! His Majesty has ordered it!" the Ross battalion commander bellowed from the artillery ridge, binoculars pressed to his face. "Every shell must be used—all three thousand rounds before nightfall! Resupply will arrive tomorrow. Do not hold back!"
"Yes, sir!" the gunners shouted in unison.
Thirty M59 cannons roared in turn. The crews moved with mechanical precision—fire, recoil, unload, reload, adjust, fire again. Their bodies ached, hands blistered, ears ringing, but they obeyed the rhythm of war.
The sky became a constant thunderstorm of shells.
On the distant horizon, the commander laughed. Through his glass, he spotted the small black specks of griffin riders flapping desperately above Su Nuo. "Hah! Look at them. Buzzards circling over their burning city, still searching for us. Thirty kilometers away, and they don't even realize it." His officers chuckled darkly.
---
The Orcs' Desperation
Inside the city, the orc riders screamed in frustration. They flew in circles, scanning every rooftop, every alley, every street, but found no trace of their so-called enemy magicians. Some griffins soared miles beyond the city, yet still nothing.
"Damn it!" their commander howled. "Where are they hiding?! Why can't we see them?!"
But the truth gnawed at him: there were no magicians. This was something else—something beyond their comprehension.
Meanwhile, below them, the city fell apart. Flames devoured entire battalions. Explosions collapsed towers. Daylight faded into a night lit only by fire.
---
A Day of Fire
The bombardment lasted from dawn until dusk. Thirty cannons fired relentlessly, their thunder echoing across valleys. By evening, the gunners had shifted from excitement to exhaustion. At first, every strike had been met with cheers. Now, it was only the dull rhythm of duty.
Yet by the end, every last shell had landed. Three thousand shells—three thousand bursts of divine fury—had been delivered into Su Nuo.
When the last cannon fell silent, the city was unrecognizable. Streets were rivers of flame. The palace was a shattered husk. Corpses littered every block.
Above, the griffin riders descended, wings drooping in fatigue. Their search had yielded nothing. They had not seen a single human face.
---
Dan Ergu's Rage
Dan Ergu had already abandoned the city. He fled with what remained of his forces, setting up camp outside the scorched ruins. Even he, brutal as he was, felt the weight of dread pressing against his chest.
In his tent, his fists clenched on the war table. His fox strategist—the one who had laughed with him just a day before—was gone. Blown to pieces, reduced to scattered limbs.
"How many soldiers do we still command?" he growled.
The orc general beside him hesitated, his voice low. "Only… sixty thousand."
Dan Ergu's eyes widened, his jaw tightening. "Sixty… thousand? Out of one hundred thousand?"
"Yes."
The warlord slammed his fist onto the table. "We lost forty thousand without even seeing the enemy's face!" His roar shook the tent. "What kind of war is this?! How do we fight like this?!"
He turned, grabbing the general by the collar, spit flying. "We! Haven't! Even! Seen! Their faces!"
Silence filled the tent. The truth was unbearable. Their soldiers whispered that Su Nuo had been cursed, abandoned by the Beast God himself. Many believed the city itself hunted them, striking with invisible fire.
Dan Ergu's fury finally broke. He hurled maps, overturned tables, and sent goblets crashing against the walls. His roar was half rage, half despair.
"Send word to my uncle!" he bellowed. "Tell him to march his two hundred thousand from the Kiswell Kingdom and bring them here at once! We cannot face this firestorm alone!"
Outside the tent, his remaining generals exchanged fearful glances. None dared to speak the truth aloud: no matter how many reinforcements came, how could they fight an enemy they couldn't even see?