Rising Shadows: The Fight for Freedom I

Chapter 33: The Great Battle

Two cavalry forces clashed like two colossal dragons with gaping maws, fiercely biting into one another. In the fleeting moment when warhorses and dire wolves collided, countless weapons swung and struck, each combatant exerting their utmost to inflict maximum damage upon their foes.

The sounds of piercing cries echoed through the air, mingling with the cacophony of battle, but those anguished wails faded almost as quickly as they arose, swallowed by the relentless advance of more human cavalry and wolf riders surging forward.

Dahn crouched low, his gaze fixed intently on the enemy charging from the left, his hands gripping his heavy sword, entirely focused on the threat before him.

As the charge commenced, Dahn realized he had positioned himself at the forefront of the assault, with the sharpest spearhead, Lieutenant Gerald, leading the way, followed closely by Dahn and Sergeant Cowell, who formed the cutting edge of the formation.

With a mighty shout, Lieutenant Gerald swung his sword with all the force of his sixth-tier battle aura, cleaving a fierce wolf rider in two.

If only I possessed Lieutenant Gerald's level of battle aura! The thought flashed through Dahn's mind as he swung his sword with all his might.

The sound of metal clashing rang out as a wolf rider swept past Dahn, neither adversary able to gain the upper hand, their arms merely vibrating from the impact.

However, such fortune was fleeting. The wolf rider who had just passed Dahn had yet to regain his balance when another human cavalryman's heavy sword swept through the air, and the bisected wolf rider fell to the ground with a scream.

Unaware of the chaos unfolding behind him, Dahn remained fixated on a wolf's mace hurtling toward him, twisting his body with all his strength to evade the blow.

The sharp wind whipped across Dahn's face, chilling him to the bone, and just as he straightened himself in the saddle, a massive axe swung toward him!

Damn it! Is this never-ending? As the axe drew nearer, Dahn felt time slow, the world around him transforming into a slow-motion tableau. In that life-or-death moment, Dahn instinctively reacted.

With a fierce cry, he swung his heavy sword, and a scream erupted across the plains.

Phew! I'm still alive! I was just a fraction faster than that orc! Relieved by his narrow escape, Dahn leaned back on his horse, gazing up at the azure sky, where droplets of blood rained down, and he felt an inexplicable joy.

The clash between human cavalry and orc wolf riders lasted merely two minutes, yet the casualties far exceeded those from the previous seven charges of the Rampaging Dragon Legion. As the last human cavalryman surged past the wolf riders, charging toward a future devoid of enemies, the grasslands behind him were soaked with the blood and flesh of over four hundred fallen comrades.

In contrast to the human cavalry's losses, the orc casualties were equally significant. The elite wolf riders, who had waited patiently before launching their attack, suffered losses comparable to those of the human cavalry. Despite their individual prowess, the wolf riders failed to gain an advantage over the overall combat strength and equipment of the human forces!

Yet, as the two equally elite cavalry forces separated, no one paid heed to their own losses. Instead, they instinctively slowed their pace, directing their gaze toward the only pair still engaged in combat-the confrontation between the commander of the human cavalry and the king of the orc kingdom!

This was a battle between two true titans. The palpable aura of battle emanating from them revealed that both the human commander and the orc king possessed battle auras exceeding the ninth tier. As their tangible energies collided repeatedly, all who witnessed this clash of titans understood that it was a battle beyond the reach of ordinary soldiers; anyone daring to approach would meet a certain demise!

According to human classifications, warriors who cultivated battle aura were divided into fifteen tiers. Only those below the third tier, apprentices, relied solely on their aura to enhance strength and endurance, while all other tiers could wield their aura to inflict harm upon enemies. However, only high-tier warriors above the ninth tier could manifest their aura into tangible weapons, protecting themselves and launching attacks from a distance!

As a member of the Rampaging Lion Legion, the remaining human cavalry knew well that their commander had achieved the tenth tier of battle aura. Yet, what surprised them all was that the orc king, engaged in battle with General Matteus, had also cultivated high-tier battle aura, and from the unfolding combat, it appeared that the orc's aura level surpassed that of General Matteus!

The thunderous explosions of their clashing auras reverberated across the plains. It was evident to all that the orc king, Gruman, unleashed his aura attacks far more frequently than General Matteus, and Gruman's aura power completely overwhelmed the general!

With each resounding boom, the fierce collision of energies stirred up clouds of dust across the grasslands. As the dust settled, obscuring the view of the onlookers, the battle that would determine the fate of the human cavalry's long march finally drew to a close.

"Retreat! Immediate retreat! We must go! Go! Go!" General Matteus shouted, his voice strained despite the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Behind him, the orc king Gruman sat proudly atop a massive bear, flanked by countless wolf riders charging forward!

Have we failed? Dahn stared blankly at General Matteus rushing toward him, suddenly feeling a chill wash over him. He brushed his hand across his face and looked up at the sky, where raindrops began to fall, bringing much-needed relief to the parched plains, awakening Dahn from his stupor.

The general has been defeated... We must flee!

As General Matteus burst through the dust, bloodied and disheveled, Dahn, realizing the gravity of the situation, abruptly turned his horse and galloped into the depths of the vast grasslands!

"Lokta!" A thunderous cheer erupted behind Dahn, the orcs celebrating their costly victory! The recently fallen rain only fueled their fervor!

Damn those orcs! Damn the rain! As the downpour intensified, Dahn and his comrades ran faster, ultimately vanishing into the misty rain of the boundless plains.

After a long and arduous journey, having sacrificed countless comrades, the final outcome was a desperate flight akin to that of a hunted dog. Occasionally glancing back at the swirling dust and the menacing faces of the orcs riding their dire wolves, every surviving human cavalryman felt dejected, their morale shattered!

The once-ambitious aspirations had vanished without a trace, and the desire to slay the orc leader had become a mere illusion. Glory and military merit were no longer what the Rampaging Lion Legion craved; they yearned only to escape their pursuers, to preserve their lives, and to return to the Kingdom of Bylins!

Yet this wish had become exceedingly difficult and extravagant for the once-proud Rampaging Lion Legion. For every cavalryman of the Rampaging Dragon Legion, they now faced not only the relentless pursuit of countless wolf riders but also the increasing number of other orc tribes blocking their path. These tribes had become loyal subjects of the newly established orc kingdom the moment they received news of their king's victory!

Have we truly failed? Not entirely! We have slain far more enemies than our legion's numbers, breaking through the ranks of thousands of orc soldiers, and we even reached the orc king himself. Such achievements cannot be deemed a failure!

But why is our morale so low? Why do we feel as if we have suffered a crushing defeat, fleeing without the confidence and ferocity we once possessed?

After fleeing for an entire day and night in the pouring rain, the remaining human cavalry finally halted when they could no longer see their pursuers. Dahn, disregarding the cold, muddy ground, collapsed onto his back, unable to suppress the overwhelming confusion swirling in his mind. When Sergeant Cowell, the last remaining officer of the legion, sat beside him, Dahn could no longer contain his curiosity.

"Fool! Stop pondering such trivial matters! Rest while you can; our journey is far from over!" Without addressing Dahn's question, the sergeant turned over and fell into a deep sleep. In the distance, the mournful howls of wolves pierced through the misty rain, a subtle reminder that their pursuers were drawing near.