Chapter 4: The Performance Begins

The harsh cold wind swept across the wilderness, carrying howls and roars. All the soldiers of the Iron Cross Regiment stationed on the city walls felt a double chill, prompting them to instinctively wrap themselves tighter in their leather armor. The charging Minotaur warriors did not rush forward in disorganized formations as before; this time they were clearly well-prepared and terrifying in their approach.

Although their formation still appeared somewhat chaotic, it at least had a rough structure—far better than the chaotic charges of old. Most importantly, the Minotaur warriors no longer used crude wooden ladders to launch attacks. They stopped at a distance from the city walls, with dozens of battering rams divided into several attack points. Clearly, the orcs intended to use their numerical advantage to attack multiple areas simultaneously, forcing the Iron Cross Regiment to split its defenses.

Pherthemis felt a bitter taste in her mouth. When had these orcs become so cunning? Their once aimless charges had been replaced by a well-organized assault force, compounded by those terrifying battering rams. Pherthemis felt an increasing sense of helplessness. Yet it was not yet time to despair—the eerie-looking magician had become her only hope.

“Mr. Cavendish, the orcs are about to launch their attack. Could you tell me why they’re concentrating their battering rams?” As the orcs charged, the soldiers of the Iron Cross Regiment, under the command of their officers, prepared themselves tightly. Ballistae began loading stones, and archers drew their bows, ready to strike the orcs as soon as they entered range. But Pherthemis knew it would be impossible to withstand the impact of those battering rams. Crafted from magic metal and heavy metals, these weapons had extremely powerful hammers that could shatter even the hardest rocks after just a few strikes. The only way to counter them was to destroy them completely—yet with the orcs protecting them so carefully, the only solution lay in the magician’s magic.

“Well, it’s simple. If the orcs attack in such a scattered manner, we’re doomed. The two mages and I can’t keep an eye on all those battering rams. Often, just three or five of them can break down a section of the wall given enough time. So rather than being defeated one by one, it’s better to let them break through in one place, drawing more battering rams to amplify the damage. I’ll teach the orcs a harsh lesson here.” The pale-faced mage even had an eerie quality about him when he smiled, which always gave Phertemis a chilling feeling. He didn’t explicitly tell Phertemis what he would do, but at this point, Phertemis had no choice but to trust him completely. Having come this far, they had nothing left but to fight to the death.

The heavy footsteps and labored breaths soon became rapid. Encouraged by the loud beats of the thousand-year-old python skin drums, the minotaurs began to run, leaving deep imprints in the ground with each step. Standing half a head taller than ordinary humans, the minotaurs were chosen from among the strongest members of the boar race. Equipped with somewhat simple leather armor, a boar horn helmet, an axe, or a spear, they formed the standard gear for minotaurs. When thousands of minotaurs charged at you at once, they resembled moving fortresses, and anyone would feel terrified of being crushed to dust.

“Swish swish swish”—arrows from longbows flew into the air, forming a net of feathers that covered the approaching orc soldiers without any gaps. The rough round shields protected vital parts of their bodies, but the dense arrow rain still caused some brave minotaurs to fall behind. Those hit in the legs, arms, waist, or back struggled painfully on the ground. Some valiant ones simply broke or pulled out the arrows, roaring with bloodshot eyes as they continued to charge forward. Thus, a great battle began.

The trebuchets also focused their attacks on the direction of the battering rams, but the orcs’ vine nets provided excellent protection. Realizing that the trebuchets couldn’t cause significant damage to the battering rams, Phertemis decisively ordered them to stop attacking those and instead target the area around the clustered minotaurs. This immediately yielded good results. Though the minotaurs were extremely strong, every time a basin-sized boulder fell, several of them would collapse in screams. Against such physical attacks that couldn’t be blocked by the body, there was little defense other than evasion.

The battering rams finally reached the base of the city walls under Philtis’s anxious gaze. During this journey, the trebuchets only managed to damage one of the battering rams, forcing it to withdraw from the battle—the orcs’ robust defenses had proven effective. With loud creaks and clangs, the first battering ram unleashed its three hammers as soon as the netting was removed. Its massive hammer arms raised hammers the size of lanterns, which then crashed down with force: the first strike created cracks in the rocks, the second shattered them, and the third reduced them to dust!

Several battering rams focused their attacks on each point simultaneously, and soon a ten-meter-wide gap appeared. Although the huge rocks and boiling oil poured down from the walls caused heavy losses among the orcs below, their round shields were no match for the attacks from above. The flames made the orcs writhe in pain at the foot of the walls. Yet, the battering rams, covered entirely in thick leather, had greatly improved fire resistance. This special scale-like armor effectively prevented fire damage, and even if the boiling oil caught fire, it could hardly cause significant harm to the battering rams.

Seeing the gap widen while the human soldiers on the walls struggled to fill it, the orc commander immediately waved a flag to send more battering rams to that area, aiming to expand their advantage and break through the fortress in one fell swoop.

Philtis kept her eyes fixed on Kavendy’s figure. The three magicians and war mages had already focused their attention here. Following the magicians’ instructions, Philtis deliberately ordered her soldiers to slow down the repair of the damaged sections of the wall. With victory seemingly within reach, the orcs grew more excited and frenzied. More and more orc soldiers and battering rams gathered there, and they were already beginning to spread up the walls. The soldiers on the walls showed signs of despair, while the officers were furious, cursing those trying to repair the walls.

“Mr. Kavendy, the situation is extremely dangerous. Please cast your spell quickly!” Philtis could no longer wait. Though she knew he was surely waiting for the perfect moment, wasn’t the scene before her enough? Did they really have to wait until the walls were breached before it was the right time? By then, even if he cast a spell, it would be too late.

Kavindhi remained unmoved as more battering rams converged on them. A small number of orc soldiers climbing the walls didn’t matter much; what was crucial was destroying the enemy’s battering rams. Dozens of them pounded against the walls relentlessly, each impact causing the walls to tremble, sending dust and ash into the air, with sections of stone bricks falling from time to time. Although the soldiers of the Iron Cross Army fought back bravely with bows, stones, and boiling oil, their resistance couldn’t stop the orcs from gradually turning their advantage into a victory. If the Iron Cross Army didn’t come up with an effective countermeasure soon, the city might fall in an instant.

Without the need for Phertemis’s reminder, Kavindhi already raised his staff high. The bluish-gray wooden staff was unclear in material, surrounded by stormy patterns. As low chants emerged from the magician’s mouth, the bluish-gray staff was instantly enveloped in endless clouds.

With a slight shake of his staff, the clouds around it scattered as if suddenly dispersed, falling into a swirling vortex that spun rapidly upward. The surrounding clouds seemed to be drawn into this increasingly fast-spinning vortex, forming a huge swirling current that descended from the sky. Suddenly, a fierce wind arose, changing the colors of the sky and earth. Both the orc soldiers attacking frantically and the Iron Cross Army soldiers fighting desperately were distracted by this sudden change, and even the pace of the battle slowed down significantly.

“The great Wind God grants power to His followers to cleanse the world of all dust! Storm Tornado!” Kavindhi’s face turned strangely red. Clearly, this powerful spell exceeded his capabilities. Although he used two magic scrolls to help control his magical energy, with two other mages also doing their best to support him, Kavindhi still felt as though all his strength was being drained. But none of this mattered anymore—what was important was that the Storm Tornado spell had finally been successfully cast!

The bluish-gray tornado resembled a ferocious wind dragon descending from the sky, rolling in with overwhelming force. At that moment, Cavendish nervously controlled its direction of attack. The screeching sound was almost deafening. Amid the rain and mist, a massive inverted funnel-shaped vortex suddenly hit the ground, sucking in dozens of panicked orc warriors on the surface. Finally, the violent tornado struck!