The towering peaks where the eagle people were said to reside stood before them, a breathtaking yet ominous sight. Craggy cliffs jutted skyward, their edges sharp as blades, and the swirling winds carried an eerie silence. The air was colder now, biting against the skin and chilling the resolve of even the hardiest members of the Horde. Volk, his eyes narrowing, stepped forward with his Horde trailing behind, the exhaustion from their arduous climb barely concealed under their stoic expressions.

The owl people landed gracefully on a nearby ledge, their wings folding neatly behind them. Their leader, an older and more imposing figure with feathers that shimmered in the dim light, gestured toward a large plateau.

“This is where the eagle people dwell,” the leader said, his tone calm and measured. “We have brought you as promised.”

Volk studied the area. The plateau was barren save for a few scattered boulders and patches of snow. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet. He frowned, his sharp instincts tingling. He turned to the owl leader. “Where are they? You said this was their home.”

The owl leader’s beak curled into what could only be described as a smirk. “Oh, they were here once,” he said cryptically. “But it seems they’ve flown off for now.”

Volk’s jaw tightened. He felt the tension in his Horde as they murmured amongst themselves, exchanging wary glances. The ogres shifted uneasily, their massive frames casting long shadows in the thin mountain light. The goblins whispered nervously, their small hands clutching the remains of their now-useless flying machines.

“You brought us all this way,” Volk growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Where. Are. They?”

The owl leader spread his wings dramatically, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light. “Oh, they are far from here,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “And you… well, you’ve been far too trusting for your own good.”

Before Volk could respond, a sharp whistle pierced the air. In an instant, the owl people took to the skies, their wings creating powerful gusts that sent snow and dust swirling around the plateau. The sudden movement startled the Horde, who instinctively raised their weapons, though their fatigue and dwindling mana reserves were evident in their sluggish reactions.

“What is this?” Volk roared, his voice booming across the cliffs.

The owl leader’s mocking laughter echoed above them. “You fools! Did you truly believe we would help you? You’ve depleted your mana reserves, your machines are useless, and you’ve walked right into our trap. This plateau is ours, and here, the wind listens to us.”

The wind seemed to answer his call, shifting abruptly. A sudden gust nearly knocked several goblins off their feet, and the ogres braced themselves against the onslaught. The Horde’s formation faltered as the owl people dove from the skies, their sharp talons gleaming in the light.

“Attack!” Volk bellowed, his command cutting through the chaos.

The Horde scrambled to defend themselves, but the situation was dire. The owl people were swift and cunning, weaving through the air with practiced ease. They struck from above, their claws raking against armor and shields before retreating back into the sky. The orcs swung their massive weapons wildly, trying to swat the attackers out of the air, but their heavy blows met only empty space.

Volk, his mind racing, observed the battlefield with cold precision. He could see the Horde’s weakness—the exhaustion from the climb, the lack of mana to power their machines, and the unfamiliarity of fighting against such agile foes in a place where the wind itself seemed to conspire against them.

One owl warrior swooped down toward a goblin, who barely had time to raise his shield before being knocked flat. The goblin’s panicked cries echoed as the owl warrior circled back for another attack. Volk’s eyes narrowed, and with a flick of his wrist, he summoned a jagged spear of dark energy. He hurled it with deadly accuracy, striking the owl mid-flight. The creature screeched in pain, spiraling downward before crashing onto the plateau.

“Regroup!” Volk commanded, his voice carrying over the howling wind. “Use their arrogance against them!”

The Horde struggled to follow his orders, their movements sluggish but determined. The goblins huddled together, using their shields to form a protective barrier. The ogres, despite their size, worked to shield the smaller members of the Horde, their massive frames serving as cover.

The owl leader, hovering high above, laughed. “You think you can resist us here? This is our domain! You’re nothing but insects scrambling in the dirt!”

Volk’s eyes burned with fury as he turned his gaze upward. “If you think we’ll go down so easily, you’re dead wrong,” he growled.

The owl people continued their assault, but Volk noticed a pattern in their movements. They were overconfident, taunting and mocking the Horde rather than focusing on efficient attacks. Their laughter and jeers grated against his nerves, but it also revealed their arrogance—a weakness he intended to exploit.

As the battle raged on, Volk’s sharp mind worked to turn the tide. He barked orders, instructing the goblins to use the scattered remains of their machines as improvised weapons. The goblins, quick-witted and resourceful, began hurling gears and pipes at the owl people, forcing them to dodge and disrupting their rhythm.

The ogres, under Volk’s direction, hurled massive boulders into the air, their sheer size and force making them difficult to avoid. One boulder struck an owl warrior squarely, sending him plummeting to the ground with a sickening thud.

The tide began to shift, but the battle was far from over. The owl leader, still circling above, screeched in anger. “You’ll regret defying us, you ground-bound scum!”

Volk’s lip curled into a feral grin. “Regret? You’ll wish you’d never crossed me.”

As the wind howled and the battle raged, Volk’s unyielding determination inspired his Horde. Though the odds were against them, they fought with a fierce resolve, proving that even in the most dire circumstances, they were not to be underestimated.

The owl people continued their relentless assault, their laughter echoing across the plateau. Their leader, high above, flapped his massive wings, stirring up powerful gusts that threatened to unsteady the already fatigued Horde. The situation seemed grim. Each member of the Horde struggled to stand their ground, shields raised and weapons gripped tightly, but the odds appeared insurmountable.

Then, Volk stepped forward, his shadow looming large in the dim light. His expression was calm, almost too calm for someone supposedly cornered. He raised a hand to quiet the murmuring Horde, his sharp eyes fixed on the circling owl people.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Volk’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.

The owl leader, his feathers glinting in the faint light, sneered. “Arrogant to the end, aren’t you? Your mana reserves are gone, your machines useless. You’re at our mercy!”

Volk tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You think you’ve won because we walked up here? Because we didn’t immediately retaliate?” He chuckled darkly, a sound that sent a ripple of unease through both his Horde and the owl people above.

The owl warriors paused mid-flight, their confident movements faltering slightly. The leader narrowed his eyes. “What are you playing at, orc?”

Volk turned to his Horde, his voice carrying a commanding edge. “You think I’d drag all of us up here without a plan? You think I’d let our mana reserves run dry without preparing for something greater?” He reached down, gripping one of the flying devices that the goblins had worked tirelessly to create. “This isn’t over. In fact…” His eyes gleamed dangerously as he glanced back at the owl leader. “It’s just begun.”

The Horde exchanged puzzled looks, but their confusion turned to awe as Volk pressed a hidden rune on the side of the machine. A soft hum resonated, growing louder and louder until the entire device glowed faintly with stored mana.

“Your arrogance blinded you,” Volk continued, his voice rising. “You assumed we’d be foolish enough to waste our mana reserves during the climb. But all that mana? It wasn’t used. It was stored.”

The owl leader’s face twisted in disbelief. “Impossible!”

Volk didn’t bother responding. He merely raised his arm, activating his own flying device. With a deafening roar, the machine flared to life, and in an instant, Volk shot into the sky, leaving a gust of wind in his wake. Your next read is at My Virtual Library Empire

The owl warriors gasped, their confident jeers replaced with stunned silence. The Horde below erupted into cheers as they followed their leader’s example. One by one, the goblins, orcs, and ogres activated their devices, the soft hum of stored mana filling the air.

And then, they ascended.

The sky that had once belonged to the owl people was no longer their exclusive domain. The Horde soared upward, their formation tight and disciplined despite the initial awkwardness of some. Volk took the lead, his figure a blur as he moved with astonishing speed and precision.

“Show them the meaning of true battle!” Volk roared, his voice carrying across the heavens.

The owl warriors, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, found themselves on the defensive. Their graceful dives and taunting swipes were now met with calculated counterattacks. Goblins flanked them with surprising agility, hurling small but devastating projectiles from midair. Orcs, larger and heavier, used their brute strength to tackle the owl warriors, sending them careening out of formation.

And the ogres—massive, lumbering forces of destruction—were terrifying in the air. Their movements were less precise, but what they lacked in finesse, they made up for in raw power. One ogre swung a makeshift club, catching an owl warrior mid-flight and sending him crashing into the cliffside with a sickening thud.

The owl leader, watching his forces falter, screeched in rage. “How dare you! The sky belongs to us!”

“Not anymore!” Volk’s voice rang out as he propelled himself toward the leader. He moved like a shadow, weaving through the chaotic battle with an ease that was almost supernatural.

The owl people were no longer taunting or mocking. Panic set in as they realized they were losing control of the fight. Their once-confident movements became erratic, their coordinated strikes devolving into desperate attempts to fend off the Horde.

Below, the remaining Horde members who hadn’t yet taken to the sky cheered and shouted encouragement. They watched in awe as their comrades dominated a battlefield that had initially seemed impossible to conquer.

Volk grinned as he closed in on the owl leader. “You made one fatal mistake,” he said, his voice cold. “You underestimated us.”

The leader snarled, attempting to dive away, but Volk anticipated the move. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a blast of dark energy toward the owl, clipping his wing and sending him spiraling downward.

“Spare them!” Volk bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. “They’re not worth killing yet. Let them be our training tools!”

The Horde obeyed with gusto, their laughter filling the air as they swatted the remaining owl warriors back and forth, like prey caught in a predator’s claws.

The owl leader, dazed and battered, managed to stabilize his flight, hovering just out of reach. He looked down at his defeated warriors and back at Volk, his expression a mixture of rage and fear.

“You’ll regret this, orc,” he hissed, his voice trembling.

Volk smirked. “You said that before. Look where it got you.”

The Horde’s laughter grew louder as the owl warriors were thoroughly humbled. And above it all, Volk’s voice rang clear, commanding, and full of triumph. “This is only the beginning. Learn your place in the sky—or be crushed beneath it.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep