End of the Battle

  Ilarion’s Perspective

  The water surged like ocean waves. Ilarion surrendered himself to the current and pursued the flames of dawn. Cursing under his breath from the tension, he hurled himself toward the pit. Just before falling, he grasped his sword and drove it into the wall, clinging to it.

  It was easier than expected since the ground was neither frozen nor slippery. There was no need to hurry—most of the ice had melted into water and plummeted into the pit below.

  Thaid’s Perspective

  Ilarion was taking too long to return. Naturally, the thick mist and freezing air made it nearly impossible to see. Thaid pondered slowly, almost lazily:

  "Did he fall and die? That would be unfortunate."

  Thaid felt a growing sense of pessimism. The snow had melted for a while—neither a short nor a long time. He stood in place, beside an orc lying on the ground. The creature wasn’t resting, of course—blood streamed from its neck, pooling downward, and a black sword lay atop its chest. The body was still and lifeless, eyes frozen in weakness.

  A movement below caught Thaid’s attention, along with a faint gleam beside it. That had to be Ilarion. Smiling, Thaid waved his hand and called out:

  "You really made good use of that sword, Ilarion!"

  The descent into the pit had been terrifying for Ilarion, though Thaid had no idea—he hadn’t ventured nearly as deep. When Ilarion finally emerged, his expression was weary, his eyes exhausted. He approached Thaid, who understood his state and handed back his sword before helping him to his feet. Together, they made their way toward the orc’s home.

  Inside, the atmosphere was much more forgiving than the frigid outdoors. The ground was primitive, yet significantly more comfortable. Several rooms, constructed in a crude manner, lined the space. Ilarion was left to rest in a cozy corner while Thaid handed him a sip of water from a green flask.

  Thaid then began wandering through the house, discovering three rooms. One door, made of clean wood, stood before him. Upon opening it, he found what was undoubtedly the orc and his mate’s quarters. The second room was completely empty, which struck him as odd. So was the third.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Curious, he inspected one of the rooms and found the floor coated in dirt, as if abandoned for ages. However, a hidden corner caught his eye. Smirking, he muttered:

  "A secret room? Hmm..."

  Drawing his twin daggers from a medallion, Thaid gathered his strength and smashed through the wall.

  Behind it, he discovered an enormous stockpile of venison and other preserved creatures—the orcs’ winter provisions. Smiling, he retrieved a small box from his pocket, tossed it to the ground, and watched as it expanded in size. Then, he swiftly packed the meat inside.

  Returning to the previous room, Thaid searched further. No clean corners stood out, but the floor felt soft and oddly warm. He struck it hard—no effect. Frustrated, he delivered multiple blows, but the ground refused to break. Growing impatient, he unleashed his flames, focusing his power repeatedly until the surface finally gave way.

  What he found was shocking.

  Ten small ghouls of varying ages.

  They were, without a doubt, the orcs’ children. As they began to cry, Thaid wasted no time—he slew them all in a single strike.

  Frowning, he thought to himself:

  "Is that really all this room was hiding?"

  He knew it was meant to keep them safe during a battle. But was there truly nothing else of value here?

  He examined the area further and realized that the real entrance must have been elsewhere—he had merely destroyed the structure at random. The room was spacious, yet completely devoid of supplies. Perhaps the orc couple had no time to stash food, given the sudden attack.

  Leaving the chamber behind, Thaid climbed back to the main floor. With his business here concluded, he decided to check on Stone and Fabian.

  As he walked through the ruined village, charred corpses littered the area. Searching for Stone, he spotted the silhouette of a massive bloodstained warhammer—and the man wielding it was resting.

  Stone was casually wiping blood off his clothes when a familiar voice greeted him:

  "Hey, Stone."

  Thaid’s gaze swept over the corpse of a young frost orc and the dozens of slain ghouls. He remarked,

  "You did well. But where’s the prince?"

  Stone replied,

  "He wanted to explore the village and look for you two."

  Thaid smirked.

  "Alright. Head back to the orc’s home. We’ll rest there for a while."

  He then resumed his walk through the devastated village. The transformation was undeniable. Fires consumed the huts, while scattered bodies and spilled entrails painted a gruesome scene.

  He soon found the prince, gazing solemnly at the slain ghouls.

  "What are you doing here?" Thaid asked.

  Fabian’s expression was troubled. After a brief pause, he asked,

  "Do you think we’re doing the right thing?"

  Thaid frowned.

  "What do you mean?"

  Fabian hesitated before clarifying,

  "I mean… Do you really think we should be killing both the young and the old? Doesn’t that make us just like them?"

  Thaid chuckled and replied,

  "You can’t expect a scorpion’s offspring not to sting. The Wings of Death… those creatures, that entire species—they’ll always be a threat to us. It’s better to strike first before they get the chance. Think of it like dealing with pests. Don't dwell on it too much."

  Then, he added,

  "Once I’m sure you’re safe, I’ll head back to the orc’s house to meet with Stone and Ilarion. When you’re done contemplating, you know where to find us."

  With that, Thaid strode through the snow and rocky terrain, returning to the orc chief’s home. Upon entering, he found Ilarion awake.

  "Is everyone alright?" Ilarion asked.

  Thaid nodded.

  "Yeah."

  Ilarion sighed in relief and smiled.

  "That’s good… We’ll head to the castle soon."