The northern wind howled, carrying with it the stench of ash and blood. Kabur's hooves struck the rocky ground as Mamir and Runya pressed onward. The forest behind them had thinned into barren plains, scattered with jagged stones and scorched earth. Bones of beasts and men alike littered the path, their hollow sockets staring into nothing.
Runya clutched Mamir's cloak, her voice trembling.
— "This land… it reeks of slaughter. We should not be here."
Mamir's eyes narrowed, fixed on the horizon.
— "If we are to reach the elves, we must cross the orcs' domain. There is no other way."
The first sign of them appeared soon after. Enormous wooden spikes jutted from the ground, impaled with skulls of wolves, deer, even men. Crude symbols, painted in dried blood, marked the territory. The air itself seemed heavier, as though the land groaned under the weight of violence.
From beyond the ridge came a guttural roar. Kabur halted, ears flicking, muscles tense. Then they saw them—shapes lumbering over the rise.
Orcs.
Their hulking bodies towered nearly twice the size of men, muscles knotted like ropes, skin a sickly green-gray. Their eyes glowed faint crimson, filled not with thought, but hunger. Their tusks jutted outward, wet with spittle, and their weapons were nothing more than jagged scraps of iron lashed to bone.
The largest of them slammed a crude axe against the ground, sending a shower of dirt into the air. His roar shook the stones.
— "Meat!"
The pack surged forward.
Mamir drew the Elven Light Sword, its radiant glow clashing with the darkness around them.
— "Stay close, Runya!"
The first orc swung its iron blade down with brute force. Mamir leapt aside and slashed upward, light searing into green flesh. The orc howled, yet did not fall—it staggered, enraged, before charging again.
Another orc lunged at Runya. Kabur reared, striking out with his hooves, crushing the creature's jaw with a sickening crack. Runya raised her hands, her voice trembling into a chant. From her palms burst threads of silver light, weaving a barrier that held back two more attackers.
But for every orc struck down, three more appeared from the shadows of the ridge. Their roars filled the plains, their heavy steps shaking the ground.
Mamir's breath grew heavy. He spun, cutting through another throat, black blood spraying across the rocks. Yet the tide did not slow. The orcs pressed in from every side, a wall of rage and muscle.
Runya's face paled as she whispered:
— "They will never stop… until we are nothing but bones."
Mamir set his stance, lifting his blade high.
— "Then let the north hear our answer!"
The horde roared back, surrounding them on all sides. The night closed in, thick with the promise of slaughter.
---
✨ End of Chapter 28
The orcs have entered the tale—savage, mindless, endless. Mamir, Runya, and Kabur stand against the tide, but in the Land of Orcs, survival itself is a miracle.