Chapitre 58: Martyrs

Crackle! A couple of the frontier guards lit torches. The green flames pierced the gloomy darkness. Ethan could discern the surrounding faces, but visibility was low.

"Are we going to fight the Orcs physically?"

"Most likely," Greta replied. "But don't worry, Young Count. Our soldiers are highly trained. Each of them can handle at least three Orcs on their own."

Ethan gulped anxiously, not believing a single word. Even if every soldier killed three Orcs, they would barely make a dent in the enemy's population. Their group was royally screwed already.

But the boy assumed the Elf Commander's statement was to reassure him and to raise her soldiers' morale.

The Orc shaman's war-horn sounded again, like a death-knell in the darkness. It was followed by a tremor coming downhill.

"What's happening?" Ethan exclaimed. "Another volley of rocks?"

"No," Athena replied in a grave tone. "They've run out of rocks already."

"How do you know—" Ethan turned towards the blonde warrior's voice to question how she could answer so confidently. Except for their torches that extended visibility for a few yards, wasn't she blinded by the dark night like the rest of them?

"Oh," the boy muttered, observing that Athena's eyes were glowing. It was a phenomenon he remembered from their first meeting.

"Nice to have someone alongside blessed by the angels," Greta said to the female warrior. "Your divine vision can help us spot enemies in the dark. But can you fight as well?"

"I can hold my own."

"Good. Then, let me know what you see. What are we facing?"

"We were wrong, Commander," Athena mumbled anxiously. She usually acted brave and defiant, but her current voice indicated she was on the back foot.

"No time for pregnant pauses, girl. Tell me what's coming for us!"

"We thought the Orc Shaman only brought a dozen of his followers. But what I see running towards us is a much larger host."

"How many do you see?"

"Scores! No… Over a hundred! And they will collide with us in a matter of a few minutes!"

"Fuck! An Orc horde?!" Greta snarled. The Elf Commander was silent momentarily as if praying to her God.

"Hey, little witch…" she finally spoke. "Will you ride with me on my horse? I have a plan which I will explain to you while we ride."

Beatrix nodded and soundlessly got onto the Elf Commander's horse.

"Alright!" Greta raised her voice to sound more commanding. "We'll be marching right away! Jenna will stay behind to protect the Young Count! On your positions!"

The other elf soldiers and castle guards joined their commander, leaving behind one with Ethan.

"What's happening?" the Cromwell heir asked his guard in confusion.

"I know little about warfare, Young Count," Jenna replied without emotion. "I am being left behind because of the least experience in battle. But I assume Commander Greta and the rest are sacrificing their lives for you."

"What? How is that going to help me?"

Jenna licked her lips in anxiety. "We are trapped between a sheer death-drop and a murderous Orc horde. Perhaps, by charging head-on, Commander Greta intends to cut an escape route for us."

"Do you think they will succeed?"

"If they fail, I will be the last defense. Let me say it in advance—it was an honor serving the Cromwell family."

Ethan was speechless. He had taken the Elf and human soldiers for granted. In his eyes, they were like hired employees, doing their jobs for salaries. The boy realized now that they were loyal to the Countess' family, enough to throw their lives away.

"Onward!" Greta drew her sword and screamed her war cries. "For the Cromwells! In the name of the Crown!"

"For the Cromwells!" her followers joined in.

"For Fondel!"

"For Promiscua!"

"In the name of the Crown!"

The rescue team had transformed into a makeshift army, shouting war slogans as they marched ahead. They shot fire arrows at the enemy as they proceeded.

Ethan caught a few glimpses of Beatrix and Athena. They turned their heads and nodded at him. There was no gesture from the girls that said farewell before disappearing into the darkness.

"Just stay where you are!" a voice floated to him, likely belonging to the little witch.

The Cromwell heir was left behind with Jenna. The latter was young and inexperienced, but she was as alert as possible.

Crash! Ethan realized the very moment Greta's onward march ended. The group collided with the Orc horde with a resounding clash of weapons.

The torches fell to the ground; Human, Elf, and Orc voices suddenly mixed into a horrible cacophony of grunts and cries. Not a minute had passed when the Cromwell heir heard heavy footsteps coming downhill towards him. They didn't sound like they belonged to his well-wishers.

"Our friends are dead!" Jenna cried out in dismay. "It didn't take a minute for the Orc horde to butcher our army! We are done for!"

"No, we need to stay calm," Ethan mumbled, but his heart trembled at the thought of facing an Orc. Beatrix and Athena were supposed to stay by his side, protecting him as bodyguards! Why did they have to run off to be martyrs?

"Young Count!" Jenna hollered, not able to handle the tension anymore. "Please survive, somehow!" Saying her last words, she galloped into the darkness to face the incoming Orcs. An ear-splitting scream followed, and her voice died abruptly.

Ethan had had enough. He steeled his nerves, quickly turned his horse around, and galloped away. Clip-clop! Clip-clop! His heartbeat seemed to resonate with the steed's hooves.

Neigh! The horse stumbled on a gnarled root and crashed heavily to the ground, shattering its legs. The boy fell along with it and got the wind knocked out of him.

Ethan saw red and black at the same time. Luckily, he had already raised his strength attributes and was as strong as an average Elf. Struggling to stay conscious, the boy got to his feet.

Ethan had no significant injuries apart from a few surface bruises and cuts. A gust of wind slapped him across the face as he tried to run away. His heart sank, realizing he was already on the edge of the precipice.

If the horse hadn't stumbled and broken its legs, it would have thrown him to his death. Did he survive because of his luck attribute? But then, how was being ambushed by a murderous Orc Horde lucky?

Ethan backtracked his path for a few yards. Could the darkness be his friend, perhaps? He could nimbly and silently escape the Orc horde unnoticed. After all, the boy's passive sneak skill was already at Level 2.

Encouraged by the emergency plan, Ethan crawled in the enemy's direction. The battle sounds had died down, suggesting Greta, Beatrix, Athena, and the rest were already dead or captured. Knowing them was a short and sweet adventure, but the boy was nostalgic, anyway.

Ethan soldiered on, hoping against hope he'd reach the narrow exit beside the slope. Then, he could set out for Cromwell Castle on foot. It would be a harrowing journey of a few days, but he would survive in the end. The Cromwell heir could return and crush the Orcs with a new army!

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