Enough blood spilled to fill a river, dyeing the ground red.
The Gates of the Stronghold were hacked to pieces, allowing the Orcs to get inside the encampment.
However, as soon as they managed to break through, they found a young man with blue hair blocking their way.
He wore a black robe, with a cape fluttering in the wind.
His purple eyes glowed faintly, and a devilish smile could be seen on his face.
The Orcs were a race that prided themselves in battle. They were fearless, and very few creatures were able to intimidate them.
For them, the foolish boy standing in their way was simply asking to die, so they decided to grant his wish of being sent to the afterlife.
With a blood-curdling roar, the Orcs charged and swung their axes towards the teenager who held a glowing trident in his hands.