Entering the third year of the invasion plan, almost the entirety of the continent was under orc dominion. They no longer had to hide their presence; in fact, they were making moves specifically to show they were here.
While the main forces, having moved in secrecy for two years and made progress in all three regions, retreated to rest and took part in the slow advance, the Raider Units were causing trouble for the three civilizations. Let alone the Mercenaries trying to retreat, they were reaching all the way to the borders of the Lands of Light and the Machine Empire, trying with all their might to prevent the aid coming from there.
Orcs were spirited creatures who didn't fear death, trying to stand out among billions of their kin by proving their valor. Because they knew the more their names were heard, the higher positions they would reach, they were going after the enemy civilizations that violently.
Of course, the vast majority of them died without achieving their goals; only a handful could return with victory, but even this was enough to drive the enemy crazy. Just imagine, you are fighting against an army that doesn't decrease as you kill, on the contrary, multiplies every moment, and every loss from your side can never be replaced.
If a war of attrition had a specific name, this would be the Orc Style. Trusting their superior reproductive capacities and rapid development opportunities, the Orc Empire attacking without caring about casualties sealed the borders of the Lands of Light and the Machine Empire before long.
Up until that moment, other than those who entered the Mercenaries' Home continent and reached the Golden City, no other support would come. It wasn't that there were no attempts, but the wall of flesh of the orc warriors managed to repel them back every time.
A month after this latest development, when the risk of attack was eliminated, the main armies in the three regions began their advance. The army in the Middle Region and under the command of Wind of Death was ahead of the others; since there was no enemy threat coming from the border, they hadn't hesitated to take priority.
"We will reach first, right?"
"Probably, today is the agreed-upon day, and the others can be there after sunset at the earliest!"
The answer to Boss's question was given right from the horse's mouth, by Wind of Death. They were marching the army in the Middle Region at full speed; in fact, you couldn't call it walking, they were making them run. Batu and his warriors, managing to shake off the burden of killing his father, even if it was difficult, were advancing on the front lines.
"Come on, hold on. Wouldn't it be very poetic if the first unit to besiege the Golden City was the Golden Army?"
Batu, who came all the way here with almost no casualties, was experiencing his enthusiasm at the highest level. After the nightmare that descended upon the man wandering in the twilight of his middle ages mingled with the soil along with his father, his exaggerated joy he developed as a defense mechanism shone exactly like a custom-tailored suit crafted by the hands of a top-tier tailor.
When two orcs watched him, they looked at each other and laughed; since the first army to reach the target would be themselves, they didn't care who from the same unit would take priority, until the roar coming from the left flank.
"Dust clouds are in sight. The Northern Region army is approaching."
At that moment, Wind of Death's eyes widened. Her father, her brother, and most importantly, her husband were in that part. The wave of excitement rising from within and overflowing outside her seemed to affect Boss, who stood a step next to her, too.
It was as if she wasn't Wind of Death but the one who got all flustered. She took a deep breath; her black energy overflowed from her body, formed a layer around her, and managed to hide her unusual state.
"There are those coming from the right side. The Southern Part Army has appeared on the horizon!"
As if the threat coming from the northern part wasn't enough, the news coming from the south rang the alarm bells for the Middle Region Army. Batu turned back; after verifying the news was real with his own eyes, he increased his speed one more fold.
"Run, my braves! Don't let anyone take the title of being the first unit to besiege the Golden City!"
A race began over the continent that was entered secretly three years ago. The besieging forces were advancing roughly, in an indifferent manner towards the final point of their invasion. Amidst the astonished gazes of the soldiers standing guard on the walls of the Golden City, three dust clouds were in a relentless struggle.
As the minutes passed, Batu sped up, but those coming from his two sides were keeping pace with him too. In fact, in the Northern and Southern parts, small groups breaking away from the crowd were practically breathing down their necks. Batu couldn't hold back anymore; using the boots of his golden armor, he shot off like an arrow, and at the same time, one more person from each of his two sides accompanied him.
"First…"
Just as the commander of the Golden Army was about to finish his words, he found two green backs in front of his eyes. Of these backs appearing at the same time, one was delicate and elegant, but the other was as wide as a rock blocking the whole path.
"I see this new power has done you good. You managed to lift your fat ass and catch me, Alyon!"
The shrill voice spread out in waves. Batu, who was closest, had to take a few steps back. The mercenaries on the walls of the golden city crouched and protected themselves, and hundreds of thousands of advancing orcs stood frozen where they were.
"You haven't changed at all either, my old friend! Your voice refreshes a person's joy as always!"
Alyon wasn't affected by the scream-like speech that paralyzed the others. He finished his words without breaking the smile covering his face.
"Father!"
This state of his seemed to have affected someone waiting steps behind. A giant orc body moving like the wind appeared next to Alyon and Nafız in seconds. Batu was devastated once again in the face of this unbelievable maneuver of the person he traveled together with for almost two years; it turns out my enthusiasm to be the first was merely an illusion, he thought.
"Father, what happened to your left arm? Your eye, your eye!"
Wind of Death, standing like a mountain, spreading fear with her axe as big as herself, at the very top of billions of orc warriors, clung to her father's right arm like a little girl. She had watched the period Alyon collapsed spiritually with her own eyes, she had witnessed his every moment, and now seeing him physically diminished, she couldn't control her tears.
"This is a small price paid to gain a great power, my daughter!"
Alyon tried to calm his daughter by stroking her hair with his mechanical left hand. At the same moments, the Dynasty Family spreading to the three regions and the top-level figures of the units accompanying them also came all the way next to the father and daughter.
Nafız turned around and looked at their faces one by one with her eyes resembling a pair of blood-red rubies. Some were traveling with her, some she knew beforehand, and she saw most for the first time, but one person among them stepped forward and began to speak.
"The twenty-thousand-strong Hell Realm Army is ready to fight alongside the Blood God Nafız!"
The warriors behind him raised their weapons into the air and shouted in unison. Their voices were booming; since the army, mostly consisting of the Holy Blood Cult warriors, had ties to Nafız through Mora, their loyalty wasn't open to question.
"The Balsici Family Army is by your side with its fifteen-thousand-strong force!"
Dimitri Balsici was once again facing the duo he encountered in a tent years ago. Neither he nor his apprentice Sasha had the courage to adopt the same attitudes; bowing their heads like their soldiers, they greeted the two orc commanders.
"The Golden Army is here with its five thousand braves to capture the Golden City!"
Batu drew his two swords and crossed them in front of his chest. His warriors imitated him too; the Golden Army wasn't bowing down, but they weren't hesitating to show they offered their weapons to the service of the orcs either.
"The Sand Army is here with a few thousand people left on hand!"
Boss, his units used as bait gone from his hands, stepped forward with a small number of core warriors. He had a weary stance, as if he was ashamed of being lacking in number, but the moment Alyon saw him, he locked his gazes upon him.
"Orc warriors, braves of the Orc Empire! Are you here?"