The staff blazed and the runes screamed. The barrier slammed into the first line of orcs.
A score of orcs tried to push through. The shield flashed and spat them back as their bodies cartwheeled across the square. One landed on a cart and ribs were crushed. Another's head split where it hit a post.
From the ridge, Graknar tore through houses on his warg, villagers screaming under his axe. He paused when the sky lit gold. His eyes narrowed.
"A mage? In a pisshole village like this?" He barked a laugh, teeth flashing.
"Good. It's been too long." He raised his axe high. "Let the rest bleed, but bring that one to me!"
Back in the street, Ragnar's face twisted in fury. "Not while I breathe."
The orcs slammed the shield again. Ragnar dropped it on purpose, letting them surge in. He planted his staff, vaulted off a broken cart, and spun through the air. The butt of his staff cracked a skull; the tip pierced a chest on landing. He ripped it free, spun low, and swept another's legs before smashing the skull into the cobbles.
"Old man!" an orc captain roared. "Your tricks won't save you!"
Ragnar slammed his staff down. The street split as spikes of stone impaled the captain and six more in one strike.
"Still think they're tricks?" Ragnar spat.
Another wave charged. Ragnar drew a line with his staff as a burning whip lashed out, slicing three orcs clean in half. Blood hit the dirt in arcs. He flipped backward onto a wagon, grabbed a barrel, and kicked it down. It exploded in fire, roasting two dozen.
"Push him! He's just one!" an orc shouted.
Ragnar dropped into their ranks, spinning the staff like a blade. A jaw shattered. A throat burst. He rammed the staff through an orc's chest, lifted him, and hurled the body into two more.
"Come on then! Who's next?"
Screams filled the square. He sprinted up a wall, flipped off the roof beam, and dropped into a squad. His staff swept heads clean from shoulders. He drove his boot into one's face, teeth snapping out, then finished with a crushing blow.
Graknar slowed his slaughter, watching from afar. His grin widened. "He kills too many. Break him." He waved his lieutenants forward.
The orcs adapted as teams rushed with long poles, forcing under stones to shatter the runes. Others hurled firepots to burn the ground where Ragnar wrote his rune. Siege crews carried nets and hooks.
Ragnar saw the change. He growled, "Smart pigs." Then he vaulted onto a roof, swung down, and slammed two orcs together so hard their skulls cracked like melons. "But not smart enough."
He turned the well's water into spikes and hurled them. Riders screamed as beasts toppled. He blasted the air tight around a squad until ribs folded in, their bodies crumpling in a heap. He kept count in his head,
"three hundred… five hundred… more."
The ground was a carpet of blood and mud. Ragnar's chest heaved, his hands trembling, but he roared through the exhaustion.
"This is my village! You want it, you'll drown in your own blood first!"
By the time the second push ended, nearly a thousand orcs lay dead. Bodies burned. The horde staggered back. Ragnar stood in the middle, dripping sweat, coughing blood, but still gripping his staff.
Graknar rode closer now, still keeping his distance. His voice was low and mocking,
"Impressive, old man. You've taken more than I thought possible. But the fire's almost gone. You can't kill forever."
Ragnar spat blood into the dirt. "I only need to kill you."
The warlord barked a laugh. "You'll get your chance—if you survive." He raised his axe. "Chain him!"
Orc squads rushed, nets flying. Ragnar cut down the first, but his swings slowed as hooks caught his staff, yanked it free. Then, chains hit his legs, dragging him down. He roared and killed three more before numbers buried him. His staff was ripped away.
Pinned to the ground, Ragnar still spat up at them.
"Cowards! One at a time, you die like dogs. That's why you hide behind chains."
Graknar leaned on his saddle, grinning. "No, old man.....Don't worry I will decide your fate"
Ragnar struggled against the chains, each link biting into his wrists. The orcs surrounded him, dragging crates and hauling wagons, the square littered with smoke and ash. Graknar stood back, towering over the chaos, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Kill him," Graknar barked. "The old man is done. Leave nothing alive in this square except what we need."
Mira crouched in the cellar, holding Ragon close. The old house had a hidden underground base that ran beneath the floorboards and walls. With a small observation slit opened onto the street outside. She peered through it.
Through the narrow slit, she saw Ragnar chained, struggling against a group of orcs. Graknar's massive form loomed over him, and the warlord barked, "Kill him! Leave nothing alive!"
Mira's heart hammered. She could see Ragnar's staff lying just out of reach as he strained against the chains. There was no mistaking it, if she didn't act, he would die.
Her instinct took over her as she clutched Ragon tighter and whispered, "No… I won't let them."
For the first time Alaric and Ragon panicked for the first time as they shouted out of instinct
"Papa!" Their tiny fists clenched, flailing as if they could reach him.
Mira climbed carefully, ducking under the beams, keeping low, and burst out of the cellar. Her feet hit the street. She was an old woman, but she like never she was the one who was to die.
Mira burst from the cellar, Ragon clutched tightly to her chest. In her free hand, she grabbed an old iron axe from the corner. Her voice trembled but carried across the smoke-choked street.
"No one touches him!" she screamed, charging toward the orcs.
Ragnar, chained and bruised, struggled against the ropes, shouting hoarsely:
"Mira! Get out of here! You can't—he'll—"
But she didn't stop. Her eyes blazed with desperate fury, the axe raised, ready to strike anyone who dared near her grandson.
Graknar's deep, cruel laugh rolled across the square. "Ah… a family in the way," he rumbled. "How touching… but I've always loved seeing families die."
Mira froze, fists tightening around the baby and axe. "You… you monster!"
Graknar grinned, raising his massive war-axe. "I'll take it into my own hands. Both of you will die before your child."
Their body trembled violently. Inside, Ragon's consciousness was filled with immense fury as he knew that if he didn't take actions in his hands, his new loved ones would die.
Then, for the first time, the body of the baby eyes glowed bright as a deep, golden light cut through the dust and chaos. And in a voice that seemed to echo across the square, Ragon spoke through the child,
"I will no longer take a life of anyone here. I shall be the sacrifice!" The words struck every orc at once as repeated the same words. Their muscles stiffened; their eyes glazed as if pulled by an invisible chain. Slowly, one by one, axes rose in their hands… pointed at themselves.
Ragnar's jaw dropped, the chains rattling as he struggled. "What… what is he doing?!"
Mira's hands shook as she pressed Ragon to her chest. "No… no! Stop this!"
The orcs' arms began to quiver violently, blades trembling above their heads. Graknar's laughter faltered as he was also controlled by
Ragon's voice.
Then, suddenly, his consciousness returned. He blinked rapidly, trying to understand what had just happened. "What… what is going on?" he growled. He looked at the paralyzed army, at the glowing infant. "Enough. Capture everyone. Leave them alive. No further deaths."
The orcs obeyed immediately, lowering their axes as they were equally confused, but they followed Graknar's new command without question.
The child's glow intensified, then faded. The enormous energy poured out of Ragon's tiny body. He slumped in Mira's arms, exhausted. The sheer force of the act forced Ragon's consciousness into slumber, leaving Alaric fully in control of their body.
Mira and Ragnar stared at the small, trembling body of their child. The baby's sacrifice had stopped the massacre.
"Ragon! Are you there?" Alaric called unto Ragon as he was equally shocked too, but their was no response.