Rise of the Horde

Receiving the much needed aid from the remaining warbands, Zaraki finally had the chance to reorganize their lines. "Give me that," he grabbed the banners of the Drakhars and the Darkhariss family. On each of his hand was a banner.

Looking like an easy target, a few enemies tried to take his life but they were all sent flying away by him. Spinning the two banners in his hands, Zaraki charged forward. With a quick thrust of the banners which had pointed tips on its poles, he skewered two enemy soldiers and raised them up high in the air.

His muscles strained in stress due to the force that they were subjected to. With a roar, he hurled the corpses towards the charging enemies and disrupted their charge. Twirling around the banners, he disarmed a few of them before bashing them with the length of the pole. Zaraki spun around and cleared a more than two meters in diameter circle around him.

He stood with determination at the center and his recent rampage frightened the enemy soldiers. "Rally to me! Establish the lines!" he roared while maintaining a menacing gaze at the enemy soldiers. The aura that he was projecting was that of a dangerous beast and his blood drenched face and armor made his appearance even more fearsome.

"Come at me!"

"More!"

"Weak!"

The orcs were mocking the enemy soldiers as they clash with them in between happy laughter. Their expressions weren't that of someone who are in a bloody and brutal fight but was that of someone out on a vacation or a stroll. Their hearty laughter unnerved the Ereian soldiers who were struggling with the chaos of battle.

"Give me a good fight! Come on!" one of the Rakshas pointed his spear at one of the enemy soldiers who was wearing a more detailed armor than the others. He suspects that the man was someone of a high position which would mean that he was stronger.

The man gave out a panic shriek after being stared and pointed at by one of the menacing orcs. He forced his way through the other soldiers, intending to hide away from the orc that seemed to have marked him.

"Coward…" the orc grumbled as he clicked his tongue. He instinctively thrusted his spear forward as soon as he caught sight of the spear of his kin by his side with his peripheral vision striking forward. He felt his weapon go through something and an unlucky enemy soldier was skewered by his attack.

His eyes were still wandering among the enemy ranks, trying to find someone who is wearing a better armor than the others.

They have learned to distinguish the stronger warriors from their enemies through the armor that they wore. 'The better-looking the armor, the higher the rank. The higher the rank, the stronger he was,' that was what the orcs had in their minds.

Although they were fighting in formation almost all the time, there were times that someone would break away from the formation to engage in a duel against a strong-looking opponent. While they were out of formation, his comrades would then fill in the gap that was left behind by him until he was done with his fight and return back into the formation.

This wasn't included in their training or were they taught to do so. It just came naturally to them.

It became a norm for them to try and find a strong opponent to duel among their foes while they were engage in combat. And as soon as they leave the formation, by instinct or because of their training, someone would quickly take his place in the formation until he returns.

With Zaraki anchoring the battle line, the Drakhars finally re-established themselves. Their spirits lifted by the presence of the orcs who were making things look easy.

The advantage that was gained by the Ereians was erased by the orcs.

Half an hour after the orcs joined the fray, they quickly took the upper hand as they cut down the opposing soldiers with ease. The enemy right center was losing ground against the orcs who were ruthlessly advancing forward.

After giving it some thought, Khao'khen sent in the ogres to their left flank to relieve the Rhakaddon cavalry as he had another task for them. The war drums were beaten in a certain rhythm accompanied by the waving of a banner.

The order was given and Dhug'mhar led his clansmen towards the Ereian center.

"Shit…" Rakabis cursed, finally showing a trace of emotion in his voice.

"Time to rumble!" Dhug'mhar shouted with glee. They finally had the chance to wreak havoc.

The Rhakaddon cavalry smashed against the flank of the Ereian right center. Under the charge of the Rumbling Clan, the Ereian right center was shattered. The charge punched through the enemy battle line deep.

After receiving such a devastating blow, the enemy's right center was destroyed. The enemy soldiers fled away under the threat of being cut down by the rapidly advancing orcs after their ranks was thrown into disarray.

With the other center breaking away from battle, the other enemy center also joined in the flight. There was no way that they would stay to continue the fight after losing the protection of their allies to their flank.

Some of the Ereian officers tried to contain the situation but to no avail. They were powerless. The soldiers even went as far as tramping them down when they tried to block their path.

The game of chase began.

With their center broken, the Ereian flanks also began to withdraw from the battlefield.

Rakabis was disheartened by the outcome but he had no choice. "Relay the order, the day is lost," he ordered and turned his steed around, heading back towards their camp.

Khao'khen nodded in satisfaction on the outcome of the battle. The outcome of the battle didn't come easily in their favour like the previous ones. And he was certain that the few upcoming battles would also be the same.