Tall grasses and dozens of species of bushes and flowers — soaked in blood, trampled and crushed under corpses. The Battle beyond White Stone River was raging at its peak…
What was planned as a raid on the border orc settlements turned into a true slaughter. Something that was supposed to be a simple demonstration that the Kingdom of Valar would not be oppressed, had turned into an ambush, a taste of betrayal, and a fight against an alliance of gray tribes with the mysterious Great Man lurking in the shadows of it all.
Valeria jumped down from Argos, who, covered in arcs of energy like a bearer of thunder, charged straight into the heaviest part of the battle. A powerful aura of a warg covered the battlefield, Valeria left behind trails of black mist, and her blade hissed.
"Hold the formation! Do not break ranks! For Valar!"
Doirak roared at his troops, and the queen was right beside him — fast and merciless. One slash was enough to separate the head of a gray axe warrior from his body, then a thrust, a pirouette, and a double cross-cut! The second one fell dead, groaning loudly and cursing. Arrows flew above their heads, and on the right flank small groups of orcs were conducting fire with bows and spears. The goblins held firm, although they were giving ground to larger and stronger orcs, unable to stop their organized assault.
The daughter of the Misty Isles had to think quickly, even while fighting in the front line. On the right flank, Vay was resisting and slaughtering the enemy by dozens, if not hundreds, behind them Isai was advancing, and over a hundred goblins with a shield wall were repelling infantry groups from the southeastern direction, from which Barga was supposed to arrive.
"Your Highness! Isai is approaching! The White Hedgehog settlement has been taken!" a wolf-mounted rider shouted, dodging a spear that whistled just past his head! "A powerful enemy force is approaching from the west!"
Artax was in danger. Kasho's betrayal struck everyone like the worst possible treachery, an unimaginable betrayal and insult! Everything was happening so fast, and the lack of coordination, organization, and discipline was becoming painfully clear. Each commander seemed to be fighting their own battle, and Valeria struggled immensely to organize the troops, even Doirak could barely hold the line with his elite hobgoblins.
The third orc fell. With her golden eye, she predicted his axe strike, closed the distance, and cut his femoral artery, then deflected his counterattack and split his skull with a powerful kick empowered by aura, black flames melting his gray skin.
"Doirak! Listen! On the left flank there is Mago! They will surely hold together with Artax and won't let that horde through! We must attack, we cannot escape while we are caught in a pincer!" her words were drowned out by the sounds of battle and the screams of the wounded and dying. "Let Isai support the center, send a hundred greens to the flanks! Let Argos lead the left, I will take the right! We will strike them in a crescent formation!" The queen resorted to an old tactic…
She quickly relayed her plan to the officers, though they had a sense for war and some skill, they had no choice but to fully trust their queen. An old tactic from the times when vampires waged war against demons for dominance over Montara — as old as the world itself, simple enough to execute on the fly without major preparation, yet effective enough to make those damn orcs suffer! Valeria shouted from the depths of her lungs, and Argos howled as he charged.
In the chaos of battle, dozens of goblins were rapidly repositioned into proper formations. The strong ones were kept in the center to hold the line — with Isai's arrival, there were enough of them to manage it. Argos had to break through the left flank, while Valeria, with half the allocated forces, struck widely on the right… successfully!
Light units of weaker and smaller grays could not withstand the hobgoblin skirmishers and berserkers. Valeria cut like a madwoman, filled with rage and fury. At the very sight of the murdered greens, black fire burned in her heart.
"Forward, do not stop! Advance!"
From the center, perhaps 300 meters to the left and 50 meters to the south, she saw tall yellow grass slowing the orcish advance, though the center was retreating, it was not collapsing. Eventually, pressure from the flanks was strong enough for orc morale to waver, for them to feel fear.
Drums roared, and horn sounds rose into the sky. A second wave of enemies emerged from the northern forests — among them humans! With almond-shaped shields, pointed helmets, and curved swords! Dozens of them. A great orc in a bone-like skull helmet was among them, riding a massive boar straight toward Valeria — hungry for murder!
"I am Bardus!!! I am the great commander!!! Death to the cold-blooded one!!!"
Valeria's life flashed before her eyes. One of the spears missed her face by mere centimeters, and only her golden eye saved her. The enemy commander was overwhelmingly powerful! His spear killed two of her shield bearers at once! With a single throw!
"CHARGE!!! Kill them all!!!"
She had to think. She had to rise to her limits… She was from the house of Nocturne!
She saw something strange — a ruined figure smiling at her, like a ghost emerging from between rushing enemies. Her mother — Noel Bloodsoule — just as she remembered her before her death… standing there, smiling, exhausted…
As if waiting for her daughter, somewhere beyond.
"Sorry mommy, not yet…"
Her crimson-amber left eye flashed for a split second, but the strange helmet of the great orc shone red at the same time — the runes on it as well… runes. Valeria gritted her teeth. Her blade struck the ork's arm, though he only swung his axe in return but missed. The boar reared and attacked with its tusks, but lost balance on the uneven ground and fell, squealing terribly.
"Get up, you foreign whore… This land will be your grave!"
Humans and orcs formed a circle around them. In the distance, many goblins, especially those fighting under Doirak and Isai, began to flee upon seeing their queen trapped in a hopeless situation — surrounded by powerful auras and warriors beyond their imagination.
Valeria did not waste strength on idle talk. She cut diagonally, then followed with a side slash, a spin, and a thrust! The massive armor and body of the ork, larger than all the others, absorbed the attack without injury to its wearer! He attacked furiously again and again, a red aura enveloping his body, armor, and axe. Valeria last felt something like this when Artax used his Berserker's Fury! Could this ork have obtained the same blessing?! From where?! Impossible!
Valeria focused her senses, took a deep breath, and looked behind her. A fragile ghost-figure of her mom — so similar to her, yet much weaker, as if starved and broken — was smiling, pointing toward the forest, her eyes glowing.
For a split second, Valeria saw it! A stream of aura… no, two streams rushing straight toward the helmet of the massive berserker. He struck relentlessly, without pause, without concern even for a fraction of a second for his own wounds.
Valeria knew she could not defeat him with her own strength. She decided to use something she should not have used again. She placed her hand on the Nocturne blade. The orange blade flared to life. A terrible heat burned her hand — a wild and hostile aura began to devour her body. Something terrifying was happening…
"Damn cursed thing! Obey me!" she shouted in fury, lunging forward once more. Every strike felt like boiling water poured over her body. With each second, it felt like the blade wanted to devour her, as if the mystical divine aura of a rank Z weapon sought to enslave her and consume her black aura entirely.
A tear ran down her cheek. The wild cries of warriors around them quieted for a moment. They witnessed the power of the Nocturne blade — some of them likely had never believed such a weapon existed, from such ancient times…
How wrong they were.
A feint, a parry, and an evade. The ork lost balance for a moment. That was enough. A powerful downward strike, full force, full contempt of the Nocturne bloodline, shattered his helmet. The unnatural red aura calmed. The ork's strength faded. Another slash from Valeria cut through his ribs — Nocturne cut steel like paper… The orc cursed.
"Argh! Dirty tricks. I am Bardus, the one who will kill the cold blood and save the gray tribes! Hah! Hah!" he spat blood but still screamed like a madman, consumed by battle lust.
Valeria was close to losing consciousness. The Nocturne blade was her enemy, disobedient… She could no longer resist its will. The enemy commander tensed all his muscles, exhaled like a steam engine, and was about to strike when he suddenly stopped…
No one noticed that for a split second, the left eye of the vampire queen glowed — only for a moment, too brief for anyone like the orcs to see.
"Sound the retreat… We've done our part… That bitch won't live to see the dawn…"
His voice was weak, unconvincing, and before one of the grays grabbed the horn bearer, the signal of retreat echoed across the battlefield. One horn blast turned into another, and another… Before higher-ranking commanders and human mercenaries of the Battle Ghosts realized what had happened, they could no longer stop the great disorder.
A massive, overwhelming aura of darkness arrived from the east, and with it, dark fire from the vampire place of damnation. Vay, son of Varyn, arrived wrapped in a cloak of gray's blood and unrestrained battle fury — with a single slash he killed two orcs.
A wave of panic spread through the gray ranks. A few seconds were enough for Vay to create a massive flame and summon enough shadow wraiths from corpses to grab his sister and knock the Nocturne blade from her hand, placing it back into its sheath, rushing through the disoriented grays and exhausted greens.
As the army of Valar collapsed and descended into chaos, he saw on a pile of corpses a small goblin girl with silver hair crying her eyes out:
"Do not run! The future of the green race is in your hands! Great Sword God is watching you! The queen is not dead yet! Valar will not fall while we fight!"
Surprisingly enough, many obeyed the child's voice — Gege's, who had infiltrated Isai's unit just to help the queen she adored so much. San'Xa'Hu was carrying the wounded on his back, while Isma's grandson was killing one of the enemies with sharp grass projectiles…
The frenzy of battle eased slightly in the heart of the inspired swordsman. He carried his sister on his back, aware of hundreds of auras surrounding him and the weight of this battle. He had to act…
Valeria had lost consciousness. He realized that the orcs would soon close their ranks again, and a counterattack would turn this into a slaughter.
He could not allow that. He grabbed the first wolf rider who came by and, in the name of his half-sister, ordered him to sound the retreat, gasping:
"Retreat! Call everyone back! We run for White Stone City…"