The air exploded with movement as the owl people swooped down from the heavens, their wings slicing through the stillness. They moved with precision and arrogance, their mocking laughter echoing through the camp like a chorus of disdainful crows.

“You fools!” one of the owl people cried, his voice sharp and high-pitched, carried effortlessly by the thinning wind. “You think your crude weapons and lumbering forms can match us in the skies? Stay grounded, where you belong!”

Another swooped lower, his sharp talons grazing dangerously close to the heads of the goblins. “Pathetic!” he sneered, pulling up sharply into the air and performing a taunting loop. “You’ll never touch us!”

The Horde bristled under the verbal barrage, their grips tightening on their weapons. Volk, however, stood calmly in the center of the chaos, his crimson eyes following the owl people’s every move. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

The owl people, emboldened by their perceived superiority, grew bolder. One lingered in mid-air, his wings flapping leisurely as he hovered over the Horde. His eyes gleamed with smug amusement as he surveyed the orcs, ogres, and goblins below.

“Look at you all,” he mocked, his voice dripping with contempt. “Grounded beasts, clawing at the sky! You—”

His words cut off abruptly. A shadow flickered behind him, subtle and swift, moving in the moonlight’s glow. His sharp eyes caught it a fraction too late.

BAM!

The impact sent him spiraling through the air, his wings flailing uselessly as he plummeted downward. His mind reeled from the force of the blow, stars exploding in his vision. He tried to process what had happened, but his body hit the ground with a sickening thud before he could comprehend.

Dazed, his gaze flickered upward. Through the haze of pain and confusion, he saw it—a massive form soaring in the moonlight, its shadowy outline unmistakable. His heart skipped a beat.

“An… Orc?” he muttered weakly, his vision fading.

It couldn’t be. Orcs didn’t fly. That was their domain, their birthright as masters of the skies. Yet, as the darkness claimed him, the last thing he saw was the impossible—a hulking orc, his body clad in the makeshift contraptions forged by goblin ingenuity, gliding through the air like a predator reclaiming its place in the food chain.

…

The battlefield fell into stunned silence as the owl people hovered in midair, their mocking confidence shattered. The sight before them was beyond comprehension. Orcs—those hulking, land-bound brutes—were now defying the natural order. They were flying. Not leaping, not climbing, but soaring.

One owl man, his silvery feathers shimmering in the moonlight, blinked in disbelief. “How is this… possible?” His voice trembled, his keen eyes narrowing as he tracked the hulking figure of an orc gliding through the air, his outstretched arms controlling the rudimentary wings attached to his back.

“This is a trick!” another owl man spat, his wings beating furiously as he flew higher, trying to gain distance. “An illusion to scare us. Orcs don’t—can’t—fly!”

But the evidence was undeniable. One after another, the Horde took to the skies, their crude but effective gear carrying them upward. It wasn’t graceful at first; the goblins wobbled in their harnesses, ogres flapped oversized contraptions that creaked with each movement, and some orcs barely missed crashing into each other. Yet, they flew.

Below, Volk stood with a commanding presence, his sharp gaze locked on the owl people above. “Horde!” he bellowed, his voice booming across the chaotic field. “Take to the skies! Make them regret thinking they owned the air. Show them that even their domain can be conquered!”

His words struck like lightning, and the Horde erupted with cheers, their confidence soaring as they leapt into action.

One by one, the Horde rose, their movements gaining stability with every passing second. The goblins, despite their small frames, maneuvered quickly, their contraptions zipping around like darting insects. The orcs powered their wings with brute strength, propelling themselves upward with every mighty flap. The ogres, slow but terrifying, gained height with heavy beats, their massive frames looming like airborne siege engines.

The owl people watched in disbelief, their confident smirks replaced by stunned stares. “This… this can’t be happening!” one of them shrieked, dodging clumsily as a goblin shot past him, cackling with glee.

“Orcs can’t fly!” another shouted, narrowly avoiding an ogre who barreled through the air like a boulder hurled by a giant. Read exclusive adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Their confusion turned to panic as the Horde swarmed them, laughing and taunting as they closed the distance. A goblin zipped in front of an owl man, sticking out his tongue. “Not so tough now, are ya?” he jeered before flipping upside down and darting away.

An orc barreled past, his laughter booming. “This your sky? Looks like our sky now!”

The owl people’s arrogance crumbled as the Horde pressed their advantage. The air became a chaotic battleground, filled with the flapping of wings, the creak of makeshift gears, and the triumphant roars of the Horde.

Volk, still grounded, observed the battle with a calculating gaze. His crimson eyes tracked every movement, noting the flaws in both his Horde’s attacks and the owl people’s panicked defenses. His mind worked rapidly, identifying openings and opportunities.

“Don’t let them regroup!” Volk shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Use their confusion. Push them apart. Make them scatter!”

The Horde responded with fervor, their attacks growing more coordinated. A group of goblins surrounded an owl man, their smaller frames darting in and out like wasps, jabbing at him with sharpened spears. The owl man’s cries of frustration filled the air as he flailed, unable to keep up with their erratic movements.

An ogre caught an owl man by surprise, his massive frame crashing into him like a battering ram. The owl man spiraled downward, his wings struggling to regain balance as the ogre bellowed a triumphant roar.

Despite their initial confusion, the owl people tried to regroup. Their leader, a broad-winged figure with feathers like burnished gold, called out commands. “Form up! Use the wind currents to your advantage! Don’t let them outmaneuver us!”

But it was too late. The Horde had fully adapted to their newfound wings, their laughter growing louder as they overwhelmed their airborne foes.

Volk smirked, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Now, now,” he murmured to himself, his voice carrying a dark amusement. “They thought themselves untouchable. Let’s see how they handle being humbled.”

Raising his voice again, he called out, “Horde! Slow down! No need to end this too quickly.”

The fighters paused, glancing toward him mid-battle. Volk’s expression was sharp, his tone dripping with authority. “Spare them for now. They’re no longer opponents. They’re practice targets. Make them earn their defeat.”

The Horde roared with approval, their laughter echoing through the skies as they pulled back slightly, their movements becoming more deliberate.

One goblin cackled as he poked at an owl man’s wings with a stick. “Not so high and mighty now, huh?” he teased, zipping out of reach before the owl man could retaliate.

An orc grinned as he circled an owl woman, his broad shoulders blocking her attempts to escape. “What’s wrong? You were laughing a moment ago!”

The owl people’s leader, still trying to rally his troops, glared down at Volk, his golden eyes blazing with fury. But even he couldn’t deny the truth. The sky, their sacred domain, was no longer theirs.

Volk stood below, arms crossed, his crimson eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as he observed the humbled owl people fluttering around in disarray. Their once-mighty arrogance had crumbled into desperation and fear. The Horde now controlled the skies, and the owl people’s sacred dominion had been thoroughly violated.

But Volk wasn’t done yet. His sharp gaze swept across the battlefield, calculating his next move. The Owl people’s confusion wasn’t enough—he needed to cement this humiliation, to make sure they never underestimated the Horde again.

He raised his voice, a commanding roar that silenced even the chaotic winds. “Release the ogres!”

The Horde paused, momentarily stunned by the command. A murmur rippled through them, and the goblins exchanged glances, their excitement evident. Slowly, the enormous ogres, who had thus far been hovering at the fringes of the battle, stepped forward. Their massive frames cast shadows over the entire battlefield as their crude flying contraptions creaked ominously.

The owl people, still scrambling to regroup, froze mid-flight. Their sharp eyes widened in horror as they turned to face the incoming behemoths. The ogres, with their gigantic wings strapped to their backs, looked impossibly menacing, their muscular forms barely constrained by the crude gear that kept them aloft.

“W-what are those?” one owl man stammered, his voice trembling.

“Impossible!” another gasped, his feathers bristling. “How can something that massive fly?!”

The golden-feathered leader’s jaw tightened as he stared at the ogres, his wings twitching nervously. He had seen many things in his life, but this defied logic. “This… this isn’t natural…”

With a deep, guttural roar, the ogres leapt into the air, their enormous wings beating with a sound like thunderclaps. The air itself seemed to vibrate as they ascended, their hulking forms defying all expectations. Each movement was raw power incarnate, a blend of brute strength and relentless will.

The owl people scattered in panic, their formations breaking apart as the ogres barreled toward them. One owl man screamed as an ogre flew directly in front of him, the sheer size of the creature casting him in shadow. The ogre grinned wickedly, his massive hand reaching out as if to swat the smaller figure from the sky.

“Is this the best you’ve got?” the ogre bellowed, his voice a booming echo. “You think your little wings can save you from me?”

The owl man flapped furiously, narrowly dodging the ogre’s grasp. But the effort was futile—no matter how fast he moved, the ogres closed the distance with terrifying ease.

Another ogre, with a makeshift helmet barely clinging to his enormous head, flew directly at a group of owl people, his massive wings stirring the air into a vortex. “Run, little birds!” he taunted, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder.

The owl people’s fear reached a fever pitch. They had always seen themselves as the masters of the skies, untouchable and dominant. But now, they were being hunted, their superiority turned into a cruel joke.

From below, Volk smirked, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “That’s right,” he muttered to himself, his voice filled with dark amusement. “Let them feel it. Let them know that their domain is no longer theirs.”

Raising his voice again, he called out to the Horde. “Horde! Show them what true power looks like! Remind them that no matter how high they fly, there’s always someone who can bring them down!”

The Horde roared in response, their laughter mingling with the cries of the owl people. The ogres, emboldened by Volk’s words, became even more relentless.

One ogre barreled past a terrified owl man, his massive frame causing the smaller figure to spin uncontrollably in his wake. The ogre laughed, his deep voice reverberating through the air. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little turbulence?”

Another ogre hovered menacingly in front of an owl woman, his enormous fists clenched. “Go ahead,” he sneered. “Fly away. See if you can escape me.”

The owl woman’s wings faltered, her eyes darting around in search of an escape. But there was none. The ogres were everywhere, their massive forms dominating the skies.

Volk watched it all unfold, his smirk growing wider. The owl people’s terror was palpable, their once-proud demeanor shattered beyond repair.

From above, the golden-feathered leader gritted his teeth, his sharp eyes narrowing as he surveyed the chaos. His pride burned like fire, but even he couldn’t deny the truth. The skies no longer belonged to the owl people.

And below, Volk stood triumphant, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “This is just the beginning,” he declared, his tone cold and commanding. “Today, the sky becomes ours!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep