Volk stood amidst the swirling, living smoke, his crimson eyes gleaming like embers in the night.

His towering form loomed over his warriors, a beacon of ruthless command and unrelenting confidence.

The battlefield was an evolving storm of chaos—an orchestra of clashes, cries, and the deep rumble of the Ogres’ guttural roars.

The humans, disoriented and struggling to regroup, were fighting blind.

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It was the perfect moment to strike a decisive blow. Volk raised his voice, cutting through the din like a war drum.

“Ogres! Front and center!” he roared, his voice a rumbling thunder that made the ground seem to quake.

The Ogres, their massive forms shrouded in the impenetrable smoke, paused their rampage for a moment and turned toward him.

Their glowing eyes pierced the fog, burning with primal ferocity.

“You will focus on the magic users!” Volk commanded, pacing before them like a lion before its pride.

“See those glowing figures on their beasts? Those are your targets. They wield the power that could turn this battle. If you let them live, they will bring ruin upon us all!

“Rip them apart! Crush their bones! Smash their beasts into the dirt! Let them know the terror of facing the might of true warriors!”

The Ogres snarled in response, their deep growls vibrating through the air.

They tightened their grips on their weapons—massive clubs, crude axes, and jagged stone hammers, each one capable of obliterating anything in its path.

The chains around their wrists and necks clinked ominously, adding to their fearsome presence.

“But Warchief,” one of the Ogres rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. “They ride strange beasts. They glow with magic. How do we fight that?”

Volk’s gaze snapped to the questioning Ogre, and he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate.

“How do you fight that?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

“You are the fight! Your strength is unmatched! Your resilience is legendary! These so-called mages are nothing but cowards hiding behind their spells! Their glowing beasts? They’re just animals! You’re Ogres! You were born to crush! To conquer! To dominate!”

The questioning Ogre hesitated, but then straightened, a new determination hardening his features.

The other Ogres began to growl in agreement, their confidence swelling like a rising tide.

Volk raised his arm and pointed toward the humans. “Do not hesitate! Do not stop until they are reduced to nothing but blood and ash! Let the Warlocks’ descendants know the wrath of the bloodline they tried to destroy!”

The Ogres howled, their voices deep and guttural, echoing across the battlefield.

Their massive feet began to stomp in unison, a terrifying rhythm that resonated through the earth.

The smoke swirled around them, almost as if it were feeding off their fury.

“And you, Orcs!” Volk barked, turning to his smaller yet equally ferocious warriors.

“Do not get in their way! Stay in formation! Surround the humans! Cut off their retreat! Let the Ogres do what they do best! But if any of those mages try to escape, you are to intercept them and make sure they regret the attempt!”

The Orcs roared in response, their voices filled with bloodlust. They tightened their grips on their weapons, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of battle.

Volk turned back to the Ogres, his voice rising to a crescendo.

“Remember your strength! Remember your ancestors! Show these humans what happens when they dare to stand against the Horde! Go now! Wipe them out!”

The Ogres needed no further encouragement.

They charged forward, their massive forms shaking the ground with each step.

The smoke parted around them as if bowing to their might, revealing the glowing figures of the mages and their beasts.

The humans’ line of defense faltered as the Ogres barreled toward them. The sight was enough to send a ripple of panic through the ranks. “Hold the line!” Sir Reginald shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “Defend the mages!”

But it was too late.

The Ogres reached the mages with terrifying speed, their massive weapons swinging through the air with devastating force.

The crystalline stag of one mage shattered under a crushing blow, sending shards of glowing blue crystal flying in all directions.

The mage screamed as he was flung from his mount, his body hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

Another Ogre lunged at the mage atop the serpentine beast.

The mage tried to cast a defensive spell, but the Ogre’s sheer speed and power overwhelmed him.

The serpent was slammed into the ground, its ethereal form flickering before dissipating entirely.

The remaining mages scrambled to regroup, their spells lighting up the smoke-filled battlefield in flashes of brilliant color. But the Ogres were relentless, their brute strength and unyielding determination cutting through the humans’ defenses like a scythe through wheat.

Volk watched from his position, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. He turned to the Orc shamans. “Keep the smoke thick! Blind them! Make them choke on it!”

The shamans obeyed, their chants growing louder.

The smoke thickened further, turning the battlefield into a swirling vortex of darkness.

Volk’s gaze shifted back to the chaos. His plan was unfolding perfectly, and he could feel the promise of victory pulsing in his veins.

“They are still strong,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and dangerous. “I needed to weaken your magicians and yes their magicians only so they won’t sense what I would do next.”

Volk stood at the heart of the battlefield, his piercing red eyes darting across the chaos like a predator surveying its prey.

His hulking frame towered over the smoke and flames that engulfed the combat zone. Each shout he bellowed carried authority, rage, and unrelenting command.

“Orcs! Form up! Keep the humans pinned!” he roared, his voice booming over the cacophony of war. “Do not let a single one escape! If they turn their backs, run them down like the dogs they are!”

The Orcs roared in acknowledgment, their ferocity redoubling as they tightened their ranks. Their shields clanged together, forming an impenetrable wall as they surged forward, forcing the human soldiers further into disarray.

Volk turned his attention to the shamans. “Keep that smoke rolling! Blind them! Suffocate them! Make their mages choke on their own spells!”

The shamans intensified their incantations, the air thickening further with acrid smoke that twisted and coiled like living shadows.

Human soldiers coughed and sputtered, their vision obscured as they swung their weapons wildly, hoping to hit something—anything.

“Archers!” Volk barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Pick off their stragglers! Focus on the ones trying to regroup! Make them pay for every step they take!”

The Orc archers unleashed a hail of arrows, their sharp tips whistling through the air before finding their marks.

Screams of pain erupted from the human lines as soldiers fell, clutching at arrows buried deep in their flesh.

Volk’s eyes snapped to the Ogres, who were locked in brutal combat with the mages and their monstrous mounts.

“Ogres! Stop playing with your food!” he snarled. “Finish them! Smash their beasts! Shatter their bones! I want their screams to echo through the heavens!”

The Ogres roared in response, their massive weapons swinging with renewed ferocity.

One Ogre grabbed the crystalline stag of a mage and crushed its glowing antlers in his fist before slamming the beast into the ground.

Another Ogre hurled a boulder at the mage on the horned feline, the impact sending both beast and master sprawling.

Volk’s orders came rapid-fire, each one calculated to exploit the humans’ weaknesses.

“Frontline warriors! Press forward! Do not give them room to breathe! Shamans, keep the rear covered! If any mage dares to flee, bring them down with your curses! Orc spearmen, cut through their formations like the tusks of a boar!”

The battlefield obeyed Volk’s commands like an extension of his will. The Orcs and Ogres moved with precision and brutality, their combined efforts overwhelming the human forces.

“Look at them!” Volk shouted, his voice dripping with disdain. “Pathetic! Weak! They came here thinking they could match us, but all they’ll find is death!”

Despite the humans’ attempts to rally, Volk’s relentless aggression left them no room for recovery.

Even the intimidating figures of the mages began to falter under the unrelenting assault.

One of the human mages, desperate to turn the tide, attempted a massive spell, his hands glowing with arcane energy. But before he could finish, an Ogre slammed into him, his weapon crushing the mage’s staff and sending shards of glowing wood flying.

Volk sneered, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Is this the best they have to offer?” he growled. “Warriors! Show them what it means to face a true horde!”

He scanned the battlefield, his mind working furiously to maintain control over every aspect of the fight.

“Left flank! Push harder! They’re weakest there! Center ranks, hold your ground! Right flank, cut them off! Encircle them! Do not let them escape!”

The humans’ cries of desperation grew louder as Volk’s forces tightened their grip.

The mages, once seen as an impenetrable wall of power, were now occupied and scattered, their beasts either slain or gravely wounded.

Volk’s blood boiled with excitement as the tide of battle shifted entirely in his favor. His chest heaved with adrenaline, and the scars lining his muscular frame glistened with sweat and blood.

Suddenly, Volk paused, his gaze snapping to the nearest shaman. “Prepare the next wave!” he commanded. “We will finish this in one fell swoop! Leave nothing behind! Not a soldier, not a beast, not even a whisper of their existence!”

As the shamans chanted and the Orcs pressed forward, Volk’s massive, muscular body began to shift.

His veins bulged unnaturally, glowing faintly with an eerie green light. His flesh rippled as though something immense was stirring within him.

He clenched his fists, his claws digging into his palms, and a low, guttural growl escaped his lips.

“I will make this quick,” he muttered to himself, his voice heavy with anticipation. “It’s time to reclaim my full power.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep