Boom!
The sound shook the palace. The massive stone table at the center of the throne room split into pieces under the emperor's furious strike. Shards of rock sprayed across the floor, clattering against the boots of the orc generals who stood frozen. Not one of them dared to flinch, let alone protest.
Before them raged the supreme ruler of eighty million orcs—the great Emperor Longdan Gol. His tusks bared, his eyes burned like coals as his voice thundered through the vaulted hall.
"A mere human army of twenty thousand—twenty thousand!—runs rampant across my empire!" His roar shook banners from the walls. "Not one of you can stop them? No legion? No general? What use do I have for you cowards! Shall I wait until they stand outside my palace doors before you finally act?"
The assembled generals trembled. Heavy armored guards lined both sides of the throne, halberds in hand, their iron masks blank and merciless. The emperor's fury was a storm none wished to face.
One general, voice breaking, stammered, "Your Majesty… it is not that we are incompetent. Those humans—those humans are unnatural!"
Another, more desperate, dropped to his knees. "They wield weapons we cannot comprehend! Though they look like ordinary mortals, they unleash destruction that can fell a hundred of our warriors in a single instant. Their thunder kills faster than any spell."
"Silence!" Longdan Gol's roar was deafening. His clawed hand slashed the air as though cutting through their excuses. "They are humans. Flesh and blood! Nothing more. And you dare whimper about magic weapons? I will hear no more excuses. Guards!"
The emperor's command was absolute.
"Drag these cowards away. Cut off their heads. Hang them upon the palace gates. Let every commander in the empire see what fate awaits failure."
"By your will, Majesty!"
At once, a dozen royal guards stepped forward, their iron boots thundering on the stone floor. They seized the kneeling generals like children and dragged them screaming toward the doors.
"Mercy, Your Majesty!"
"Give us one more chance!"
"Ahhh—!"
Their pleas ended abruptly. From beyond the hall came the wet sound of blades slicing through flesh, followed by the dull thuds of heads striking the marble steps outside. Silence fell, broken only by the emperor's ragged breath.
"Trash." Longdan Gol spat the word.
At that moment, the chamber doors creaked open once more. A fox-featured courtier entered, robes rich with gold thread, his slender tail swaying behind him. He bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty," the fox adviser began smoothly.
"What is it, Hu Aiqing?" The emperor's tone eased slightly; the fox had long been a trusted counselor.
The adviser stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I believe the generals spoke some truth."
Longdan Gol's eyes narrowed. "Do you plead for them? It is too late. Their heads already decorate my gates."
"Not so, Majesty. I speak not for them, but for the reality we face." The fox's gaze sharpened. "Have you forgotten our experiments?"
The emperor paused. "Experiments… ah. You mean the magical transformation of the half-orc girls."
"Indeed," the adviser replied, his eyes glinting. "It is my belief that this human army is not ordinary at all. They are likely biological magic weapons dispatched by the Tongsley Empire—or perhaps even by the Central Magic Empire. Mortal flesh given unnatural strength."
Longdan Gol's anger wavered. He sat heavily upon his throne, tusks gnashing. "Biological magic weapons… yes. Only such creations could masquerade as mortals yet unleash the power of storms."
The fox adviser bowed slightly. "Therefore, Majesty, to defeat them, we must answer with weapons of the same nature. Biological magic weapons against biological magic weapons."
The emperor grunted. "The prototypes are unstable. Many died in testing. If we unleash them, they may break before the battle begins."
"Unstable is acceptable," the adviser replied coolly. "Uncontrollable power is still power—and power pointed at our enemies. If they burn out while killing humans, it matters not. They are only experiments. Half-orc tribes are plentiful. We can always create another batch."
Longdan Gol stared at him for a long moment, then threw back his head and laughed. "Ha! Ruthless as ever, Hu Aiqing. You remind me why I keep you. Yes… you are right. We are orcs. Why concern ourselves with human notions of morality?"
"Exactly, Majesty. We are orcs."
And together, the two laughed wildly, their voices echoing across the bloodstained hall.
---
The Birth of the Weapons
Two hours later, in the wilderness outside Hal, the ground shook.
Boom!
The earth split as more than a dozen small figures burst forth, clouds of dust billowing. At first glance they seemed like children—but no life glimmered in their cold, empty eyes.
They were half-orc girls, transformed beyond recognition. Their skin gleamed like steel. Strange, bulky harnesses clung to their backs, grotesque boxes sprouting a forest of pipes that fed into their bodies. The hum of magic coursed through the contraptions, pumping raw energy into fragile flesh that should not have survived it.
They floated clumsily above the ground, mechanical wings sputtering. Their forms were crude, as though cobbled together by artisans who understood neither machine nor magic. They looked less like weapons of the future and more like a monstrous parody of invention—a sixteenth-century tinkerer forcing together an eighteenth-century steam engine.
These were the Orc Empire's secret project: Biological Humanoid Magic Weapons.
Dozens had perished in the experiments. Humans exploded under the strain. Orcs fared no better. But strangely, half-orc girls—frail, overlooked, despised—had proven resistant. Many still died, but a few survived the transformation. And those few now floated before the empire, grotesque proof of a miracle born of cruelty.
The orc wizards knew the truth: the process was unstable, the "successes" accidental. But to Longdan Gol, these unstable creations were soldiers, ready to be hurled against the human tide.
---
Gavin Ward's Discovery
One hundred and twenty kilometers from Hal, Gavin Ward rested within the outpost his army had established. His campaign had driven deep into orc lands, victory upon victory, but he remained wary.
"Your Majesty, good news!" cried Rotis, one of his officers, from outside the command tent.
"Enter," Gavin called.
The officer strode in, saluting sharply. "Sire, our exploration team has returned. They've found an oil field!"
Gavin's eyes lit up. "An oil field? Where?"
Rotis hesitated, his expression twisting oddly. "Near the half-orc tribe where we rested earlier."
"What?" Gavin blinked, then laughed bitterly. "We passed over it a month ago?"
He shook his head in disbelief. For weeks they had scoured the Orc Empire, crushed its legions, and relied on strained supply lines. And now he learned the precious oil lay right behind them, overlooked at the very start. "Ridiculous," he muttered. "Truly ridiculous."
Before further orders could be given, a shadow fell across the camp.
Figures floated above the outpost—a dozen twisted, steel-skinned girls, their eyes lifeless, their bodies tethered to the grotesque machinery on their backs. They hovered unsteadily, as if about to collapse, yet radiated a terrifying presence.
The soldiers below looked up in shock. The air vibrated with an unnatural hum as the crude weapons of the Orc Empire revealed themselves for the first time.
The biological humanoid magic weapons had arrived.
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