Rise of the Horde

Atop the highest point of the Sand Palace, Artanos observed the orcs and the Ereians down below. His observant gaze trailing over their movements. He watched the orcish horde break into groups, some headed for the magic towers to secure them, some entered the palace and the others remained outside to stand guard.

The demoness who was still bound by the chains of light glanced at him, "What are we still doing here? The people that you were here for already escaped the city safely. Don't tell me that you are planning to engage with them in a fight," she said, her voice carried a tinge of fear.

Artanos didn't even move his gaze, "It's about time…" he whispered then after his words fell, the ground began trembling. "This should be your first time to be given a task by your master. You seem not aware on how he does things. But I am well aware on how he conducts his plans."

The demoness gave him a confused look, "What? How do you know?" that was all that she could mumble before quickly grapping onto something, as the trembling of the ground became more intense. The winged creature was correct, when he said that this was her first time to be given a task by her master.

"Just watch…" Artanos replied and erected a barrier around them. Their presence became almost non-existent as the sphere of magic shrouded their figures.

Deep within the palace, on the lowest chamber, the 3rd and 4th Warband finally joined up once again on the path leading towards the lowest floor. They have successfully cleared out all the nook and crannies of the palace. The Ereians that they have captured were escorted out of the palace. Some came willingly in surrender while others were beaten into submission by the orcs.

Among those who had to be beaten to submission was Barika, whose face swelled because of the beating that he had just received. His body was also filled with bruises and small cuts. The orcs almost beat the living daylights out of him, and he had to be carried by others as one of his legs was broken during the scuffle.

The 3rd and 4th Warbands were admiring the carnage that was created by Ishaq and his two subordinates. They were hoping that the ones who were responsible for the slaughter were still around, so that they could have a go at them.

"Do you think they are still around?" one of the orcs turned his gaze towards the one to his left. He didn't have to specify who he was talking about at all. Everyone who heard his question already knew who he was talking about.

"I hope so… They should be able to provide a much better fight against us than these," he kicked a corpse of one of the demonic spawns away.

As the corpse hit against the wall, the ground beneath their feet began trembling, the walls were shaking and the stone walls began showing signs of moving.

"What did you do?" the warband master came angrily towards the orcs who just kicked the corpse away.

"I… I didn't do anything," the orc stuttered as he replied, he was stupefied, there was no way that his kick would've cause such shaking. He was fearful of the warband master, since he has the authority to deny him of any good fight and other future battles.

The warband master gave out a grunt after smacking the helmet of the frightened warrior.

"I really didn't do anything," the orc complained, feeling wronged. The warband master shot him a glare and he immediately shrank back.

"Do you hear that?" the other warband master, the one leading the 4th said towards his fellow warband master.

"Hear what Skiggs?" the warband master of the 3rd questioned.

"You don't hear that? The sound of skittering, numerous skittering, and stop calling me Skiggs. You don't hear me calling you Droks, but your real name Drok'tagar," the warband master of the 4th complained. Hearing his fellow warband master calling him like that infuriated him as it sounded demeaning to him.

A few restrained chuckles came from behind him, and he turned towards them and shot them an angry glare. He was certain that many of them had heard the nickname that was given to him.

"Is it really that important? We are already so close, we have spent numerous life and death moments together, and you don't want me to call you Skiggs? What a disappointment." Drok'tagar shook his head and his face clearly says that he was disappointed, or that was what he was trying to portray, before giving out a cheeky smile.

"Can't you focus more on the more important detail that I have said? There are possible enemies heading towards us and you are more hang up on the names instead." Skigg'truk complained.

"And you guys! Be serious!" he roared towards the warriors of his warband who were letting out some chuckles.

"You heard Skiggs! Be serious!" Drok'tagar shouted. Their warbands were moving in four rows and five columns, divided into groups, as they pushed forward.

"Here they come," Skigg'truk muttered as he readied his shield.

From the lowest chamber, they emerged – demonic insects, their carapaces glistening with a sickly sheen. Their multi-jointed legs moved with unnatural speed, scurrying across the rubble with deadly intent. Some were the size of small dogs, while others were larger, their mandibles dripping with fluids which seemed deadly. Their eyes, an unearthly shade of yellow, fixed upon the orcs.

The entire passage was pack with their numbers, squeezing against each other as they moved forward. Their screeching sounds were disturbing to the ears of the orcs; it was an unpleasant sound to be heard, like a string instrument that was totally out of tune.

The demonic critters charged forward, slamming against the shield wall presented by the orcs. The weight of their charge was easily absorbed by the frontlines, but as their numbers piled up, the orcs at the forefront began losing ground.

"Push forward! Don't let them through!" Drok'tagar shouted. He and Skiggs were at the forefront of the battle, and they could easily ascertain that they were indeed losing ground.

The battle became a contest of strength between the demonic critters and the orcs. Orcish warriors pushed the back of their comrades with their shields, while the critters piled up shoving their kin forward.

It didn't take long for Skigg'truk to figure out that he would certainly be squashed to death if the situation continues. With their foes pushing against his shield, and his warriors pushing him forward, it won't be long before he would be sandwiched between his shield and of the one from behind him. Read new chapters at m_v-l'e|-.net

"We should bring them out in the open. We will be squashed to death if this continues," he yelled towards Drok'tagar who was in the same situation as him.

Drok'tagar nodded his head in response and began passing out commands to the ones behind him to stop pushing forward.

The orcs slowly withdrew towards the much wider halls on the upper floors of the palace.

"I thinks its best if we draw them outside the palace. They would strike at us in all possible corners if we remain within the palace," Drok'tagar suggested towards his fellow warband master.

"Agreed!" Skigg'truk shortly replied.

"Send out someone to inform the chieftain of what is happening. The others outside should be prepared to hold these critters off on the entrance of the palace."

As the 3rd and 4th warband exited the palace, the 1st and 2nd warband quickly took up defensive positions to relieve their allies. Khao'khen was already informed by the messenger sent out by the warband masters, and he had made some arrangements before their warriors exited the halls.

"Skorno! Haguk! Head towards the back of the palace to support the Zaraki and the Drakhars who are with him" he quickly shouted after seeing the number of their foes, pouring out of the entrance. Khao'khen was certain that if Zaraki and his group don't receive reinforcements, their lines would be quickly overrun by the sheer number of their foes.

Artanos, who was still hiding at the highest point of the palace, "I figured out much," he chuckled while watching the chaos that was unfolding down below. "Your master might have abandoned you, but he still hasn't given up in entering this world. He quickly made use of the still intact rift between this world and to wherever world he is currently at, to send out more of his minions and try to secure a foothold for his arrival."

"And who knows, I might be able to capture him, if that happens," he smiled as he continued watching the battle down below.

The demoness now finally figured out the reason, on why Artanos didn't destroy the altar. He was using it as a bait to lure his master into this world.

The Rakshas were doing pretty well in fighting against the swarm of demonic critters, their defensive line stayed steadfast without any sign of being overwhelmed. The 3rd and 4th warbands regrouped themselves and secured the flanks of the Rakshas.

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