Capítulo 568: Chapter 568: Fateful Duel - Part 2
Golden sword light clashed fiercely with the yellow hammer glow.
Lothar faltered slightly, surprised that the worst he had imagined did not come to pass. Upon contact with the hammer, a somewhat unsettling sensation traveled up his sword, but it was not the feeling of shattering. It was the expected reaction of a blade meeting the unyielding force of a heavy hammer.
Neither warrior had used their full strength, allowing some room for maneuver.
Both prepared for their next moves. Orgrim's counter was a slight elevation of his hammer's head. Raising it merely a few inches, he swiftly brought it crashing down again, aiming for the blade of Lothar's sword.
If Lothar had guessed right, Orgrim was indeed trying to exploit the natural vulnerability of a sword to shatter this legendary blade.
Nimbly sidestepping to the left, Lothar avoided the hammer's blow. However, Orgrim immediately reversed his grip and swung the hammer from below, narrowly grazing Lothar's chin. The move threw Lothar off balance, forcing him to retreat.
Almost immediately, another brazenly swift hammer strike followed, but Lothar managed to parry it just in time. For a moment, both warriors channeled their full strength. The Doomhammer rose and descended, but Lothar deflected it once more. Both weapons quivered in their holders' grips, neither giving way.
Seizing an opportunity, Lothar twisted his blade, effectively knocking the hammer away. As the Doomhammer was retracted, Lothar lunged forward, slashing with his sword...
The battle intensified.
Five minutes earlier, the twelve paladins' furious charge continued. At a pivotal moment, Gavinrad spotted a reflective signal from a distant steam tank and shouted, "Look! Our commander is dueling the orc chieftain!"
Uther, Turalyon, and the other paladins were locked in combat with the orcs. Following Gavinrad's cry, the paladins unleashed devastating blows, felling their adversaries.
Their focus shifted to the duel at the battlefield's center between Lothar and a towering orc.
Due to frequent interactions with Duke, many in the Silver Hand had seen Orgrim before. They instantly recognized the danger of this duel.
A victory for Lothar would be celebrated for ages. However, should he fall, the implications for the Alliance, already facing internal tensions, would be catastrophic.
Without needing a call to arms, the twelve paladins charged toward the duel's center. Their consecrated hammers, bathed in the Light, carved golden arcs through the air, laying waste to any orc in their path.
From an aerial view, one could see not just the twelve paladins but also the tank divisions and two other orc battalions converging, all desperate to reach their leaders.
In the thick of battle, the two leaders clashed once more. Both were visibly fatigued, their movements less fluid. In a lightning-fast exchange, both suffered grievous wounds. Orgrim's stomach bore a deep gash, exposing a hint of intestine. Lothar's left arm took a brutal hammer blow, leaving it twisted and likely fractured in multiple places.
Both staggered but prepared for a third assault.
Orgrim raised his hammer high and, with all his might, lunged at Lothar from nearly five meters away.
Crafty Orgrim revealed his impressive leaping ability for the first time to Lothar, having previously given an impression of being lumbering. This warrior skill was a surprise move, potentially fatal.
But then, an unforeseen intervention: Rokhan, severely wounded nearby, suddenly reached out and grabbed Lothar's foot, immobilizing him.
Lothar instinctively raised his sword to parry Orgrim's sneak attack, concentrating all his power on the blade's edge.
With a momentum that seemed world-shattering, the hammer descended.
Time seemed to freeze.
Because...
—the sword shattered!
As the fragments of the legendary blade, which had accompanied Lothar through countless battles, scattered in mid-air, all who witnessed were aghast. Turalyon felt his breath halt. Orgrim's unobstructed blow continued its deadly trajectory toward Lothar's helmet.
In the nick of time, the rune on Lothar's armor, a gift from Duke, gleamed brightly. A massive metallic fist emerged, striking Orgrim squarely in the face, sending him flying.
Almost simultaneously, a mysterious shout echoed.
"Oh u'gan!" (By the spirits!)
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