Eric looked at Gus for a moment.
Then they both burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Slowly, the knights of the Order nearby started laughing too, and the laughter spread to the distant knights.
"AHAHAHAHA!"
"THIS IS TOO STUPID!"
"WE GOT CAUGHT LIKE BEGINNERS!"
The orcs, thinking they had the advantage, didn't understand. They looked around, confused.
"What... what's going on?"
"Have they gone mad?"
"The panic drove them crazy!"
The human prisoners didn't understand the knights' collective laughter either. Doubt began to creep in about whether the knights could really save them.
"Why are they laughing?"
"We're all going to die and they're giggling?!"
"They've lost their minds!"
Cassian, seeing the knights of the Order laughing, didn't understand either, but he found it amusing.
He let out a forced, exaggerated laugh.
"AHAHAHAHA! THAT'S— THAT'S REALLY FUNNY!"
Then, laughing exaggeratedly, he asked Sacha:
"But why is everyone laughing?"
Sacha, with a smirk, explained calmly:
"The knights of the Order let themselves get surprised, almost forgetting how powerful they are."
He made a nonchalant gesture.
"It's like a cat scared of a rat just because the rat fights back a bit well. Just because the rat does things we're not used to seeing."
He crossed his arms.
"This laughter helps the knights decompress and see more clearly."
And it was true.
Naturally, the knights organized themselves.
They regrouped into small circles back-to-back, presenting a wall of shields and spikes in all directions.
The orcs charging foolishly got impaled.
"DON'T ADVANCE ONE BY ONE, YOU IDIOTS!" yelled an orc.
SLASH.
Too late. He was pierced through.
The stone "golem" was slow and stupid. The knights ignored it superbly, dodging its clumsy blows.
BOOM.
The golem struck the ground where a knight had stood a second earlier.
"Keep it up, big pile of rocks," mocked the knight.
It was no longer a threat, just an inconvenience.
A small contingent of knights detached not to fight, but to channel the prisoners.
"HERE! BEHIND US!"
"FOLLOW US! WE'LL PROTECT YOU!"
They formed a secure corridor to evacuate the civilians to a safer point, away from the melee.
They thus neutralized the "human shield" by turning it into a directed crowd.
Sacha continued commenting on what was happening on the battlefield for Cassian.
"You see over there? They've just reformed a classic phalanx. Basic formation, but effective."
Cassian replied politely:
"It's not necessary, Sacha, I can see—"
"And there, on the left, they're evacuating the civilians to the secure perimeter," Sacha continued, pretending not to have heard.
Cassian had an annoyed face at first.
"Sacha, really, it's fine—"
"Look how they synchronize their movements. It's high military art."
But very quickly, Cassian became attentive, really listening.
"Wait, why isn't that group moving?"
"Good question! They're preparing to switch to shooter mode."
Once the knights had ensured that most of the prisoners were safe, they split into two groups: melee attack force and ranged.
Some knights fell back to areas deemed safe to focus solely on casting spells.
"Shooter section, IN POSITION!"
"READY TO FIRE!"
Most started pelting the orcs with fireballs.
Why? Flame magic was the most common among humans. It was the most concrete, basic, effective, and simple to learn.
Fire burns, it hurts, and it destroys.
The most used magic on human battlefields.
A knight extended both hands and unleashed a rain of small fireballs that shot out in bursts.
FWOOSH. FWOOSH. FWOOSH.
They sometimes ricocheted off the ground or shields, exploding into incandescent shards that burned flesh and weapons.
"AAAAAAH!"
"MY ARM! MY ARM!"
Another knight of the Order traced a circle in front of him with his flaming fingers.
Then a continuous beam of flames shot out, like a burning spear that swept across the battlefield.
SZZZZZZZZZZ.
Any orc hit was charred or hurled back. Grass, wood, and even armor ignited.
The mage moved the beam slowly, as if "weaving a line of fire" through the enemy army.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"
"FALL BACK! FALL BACK!"
A third knight concentrated his mana into a sphere of fire that swelled between his palms, until it became a huge incandescent ball.
He hurled it into a compact group of orcs.
BOOM.
On impact, the ball exploded in a circular blast, creating a scorching shockwave that sent bodies flying and ignited the air.
After the explosion, the ground remained glowing red, like a molten crater.
The orcs complained.
"IT'S ALWAYS LIKE THIS WITH HUMANS!"
"DAMN SPAMMERS!"
"STOP STAYING GROUPED!" cried an orc lieutenant.
They tried to spread out more on the battlefield.
They couldn't really use the prisoners as shields anymore because most were sheltered behind the knights who formed a wall between the prisoners and the orcs.
Eric, on his side, was causing carnage.
He grabbed an orc by the throat with his bare hand.
In a flash, his fingers ignited, turning the grip into a living pyre.
"AAAAAAAAH!"
The flesh melted under the heat. The armor expanded and cracked. The opponent collapsed charred before he could even react.
Another orc charged.
Eric seized his head with one hand, then unleashed a concentrated jet of flames point-blank directly into his mouth.
FWOOOOSH.
The skin blistered. The eyes melted. The body collapsed like a torch consumed from the inside.
Eric imbued his blade with vivid flames, then slashed an orc horizontally across the chest.
SLASH.
The heat was such that the flesh charred and cracked before the blood could even flow.
When the body collapsed, it shattered like a log too dry thrown into the fire.
With a lightning spin, he executed a wide circular strike.
The blade released a trail of slashing flames that decapitated or severed several aligned orcs.
The heads rolled on the ground while flames licked the decapitated bodies, turning them into flickering torches.
Suddenly, the sword Eric held completely consumed itself, reduced to ashes.
"Tch."
He had taken it from a dead orc. That was the problem with a worthless weapon grabbed like that. You were never sure of its durability.
Eric tossed it aside, then drew his own sword from its sheath.
That was a real weapon.
It was a magical weapon suited to his flame magic.
The kingdom of Haverloch was ultra-religious, practicing the cult of the Sun and Moon.
The Moon was associated with prosperity, wisdom, dreams.
The Sun was associated with warrior strength, protection, order.
Flame magic was linked to the Sun for the people of Haverloch, thus sacred, which explained its massive use.
The royal family had pushed this magic to the extreme, and Eric had been educated in the best techniques.
Prince Eric advanced alone.
He carved a path through the melee with deadly elegance, his sword tracing lines that felled any orc stupid enough to get in his way.
He didn't run.
He walked.
He headed straight for the ogre.
Thomas noticed he had been wrong about who the leader was upon seeing Eric causing carnage.
But hey, this situation suits me.
He thought: No human can defeat me head-on.
From his past experiences, he was convinced of it.
Right now, it would be a better idea to subdue this prince with my magical artifact. He's strong. If he's subdued, he'll be a good asset.
As Eric advanced, Thomas activated an intimidation magic.
It was a magic that directly affected the mind.
He also activated a magic he usually used when in danger.
It greatly enhanced his physical abilities, but at a high cost.
The ogre began to grow even larger. His already impressive muscles became even more defined, bulging under his green skin.
Veins pulsed visibly.
The ogre's plan was simple: intimidate the prince so his artifact could turn him into one of his subordinates.
The Prince, seeing the ogre become more menacing, slowed down gradually until he stopped.
Thomas smiled.
It's working.
The ogre's earring sensed the crack and slipped into it instantly.
But Thomas saw the prince's eyes slowly show anger.
Eric looked him straight in the eyes, his face clearly expressing: *What did you try to do there?*
The prince wasn't fully back to himself yet.
Thomas took advantage of the opening.
He charged and delivered a powerful kick.
BOOM.
The prince flew several meters, rolling on the ground before stopping.
Thomas was astonished that the mental submission hadn't worked.
But anyway...
He had quickly regained his composure and landed the first blow while his opponent was distracted.
If he can't have him now, better not take chances and eliminate him right away.
A knight, seeing the prince fly, was distracted for a moment.
"YOUR HIGHNESS?!"
SMASH.
He took a powerful punch.
It literally deformed his helmet.
The one responsible: an orc who had been holding his own against the knights for a while now.
He had eliminated six on his own.
A knight recognized him.
"Isn't that... Borzak?"
The orc was immense, with an imposing build. His arrogant face was framed by long, wild hair that fell in messy strands. His eyes gleamed with a cruel light.
A few knights slowly began to recognize him as well.
"It's him!"
"Borzak the Butcher!"
Borzak was a particularly violent orc. He was infamous for being a troublemaker that the kingdom's authorities had never managed to catch.
And when they finally got their hands on him, Borzak still got away.
His strength was well-known.
And now, the knights were paying the price.
A knight began to worry.
"If Borzak damages our magical equipment... that gives an idea of his strength."
His muscles were bulging, veins visible here and there.
Gus, the knight the ogre had mistaken for the leader, asked the others:
"Handle the other orcs. I'll take care of Borzak."
Borzak swept aside the knights on him with a wide swing of his war hammer.
CRASH.
Then he laughed upon hearing the higher-ranking knight's words.
"HAHAHA! YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN HANDLE ME ALONE?!"
While he was laughing, the Second Prince surged forward and stepped on his face, propelling himself toward the ogre.
"You, you're going to—"
But Borzak grabbed his leg mid-air and slammed him violently into the ground.
BOOM.
"YOU, STAY THERE."