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Cerberus's eyes snapped open at once.
"Sir Cerberus! Sir Cerberus!"
A young acolyte stood beside the bench he was resting on, trying with all his might to wake the knight up. Rubbing the sleep off his eyes, he bolted upright, surprising the acolyte slightly.
"What's wrong?"
"A band of orcs had started invading Prontera! Lend us aid!"
"Damn!"
Cerberus shook his head violently to completely clear the fuzziness. He hastily put on his full plate, and grabbed the two magically enchanted swords in each hand. The scene in the church was panicky; acolytes who were preparing for the mass now hid in their own chamber, while priests and monks geared themselves up for the bloody battle. Outside, horns blared frequently, hurrying the Prontera army into action. The knights on foot and on cavalry already stood at the west gates, where the band of orcs advanced.
Hunters atop the walls eagerly reported to the commanders what they sighted, then returned to the walls to further survey the orcs' movements. Although the orc forces were not in range, the hunters nocked their arrows to give them a sense of protection and assurance.
The commanders yelled instructions to their subordinates, reminding them not to repeat their mistakes that they had made during the battle against the four. But their impatience was mainly due to the fact that the two warlords of Prontera were yet to be seen. There was not even a sign of their Fiendbane Enforcers. A few men were quickly picked out to search for the two.
Once again, the residents had to be evacuated. Cerberus, together with a small group of inexperienced acolytes, guided the desperate and petrified city-folk out through the east gates. He intended to participate in the battle against the orcs, to join the gathered departments, but helping the residents happened to come to the fore of his mind. Another reason was that he felt a sense of solitude if he was to do battle together with large groups of unfamiliar warriors. He had become so accustomed to fighting alongside with his guild members. If he was to head westwards to the gates, he wanted to at least look for Piffy.
"Sir Cerberus!" an acolyte in the group called out.
At first Cerberus thought it could be Piffy, but the juvenile voice dashed his hopes. Turning around, he waited for the young boy to start on his speech.
"Sir Cerberus! May we participate in the battle? We earnestly want to help!"
The knight raised his hand to indicate a strict no.
"Out of the question. You all are too inexperienced, trouble might befall!"
"We can provide our healing abilities!" another boy shouted his suggestion.
"No! Return to the church! I do not wish to be held responsible if you get crushed at the hands of the orcs," the knight snapped. He was surprised at his outburst, which does not happen usually. He held his emotions in check; too many problems were stored up in him, and he could not help feeling frustrated.
The invocation of the four, the invasion by the orcs, the parting of his guild, his own inner turmoil regarding Cranius, Izlude and the marriage of Kera… this was troubling him greatly. The latter was made worse when he subconsciously killed the Izlude guards at the command of the Talefing. The city of Izlude might be in peril, for Cranius now possesses the dark blade. The marriage of Kera and Cranius contributed to the largest portion of his dilemma, though he constantly avoided it by inebriating himself.
The group of acolytes grimly returned to their church following Cerberus's harsh lecture. When the last of the residents fled the town, but not before pleading him to save the city, he trudged to the west gates unwillingly. A scout ran his way breathlessly.
"Sir Cerberus! The commander requests your participation in the battle! The two warlords had yet to be found, gather your guild and lend us aid!"
"I will be on my way. Be gone."
The scout, telling by the unhappy expression on the knight's face, knew better than to persuade him further, and ran off to report to the commander. Cerberus heaved a long sigh as he walked slowly past the fountain of Odin.
"Cerberus!"
There was no doubt that this time the voice belonged to that of an old alchemist friend he knew for a long time. His troubles temporarily evaporated, he welcomed the sight of Piffy.
"I hope your axe-hunting got you something good, because we're about to butcher some orc meat!"
As if to emphasize Cerberus's comments, the alchemist produced a sturdy-looking Buster axe, raising it up ostentatiously. Clapping a hand on Cerberus's back, Piffy said, "Aye! Butcher some orc meat, definitely!"
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"Boss! Is that true that the orcs are coming on us?"
Larzen nodded. The Fiendbane Enforcers talked heatedly, stopping their work instantly. Then, a short figure came down the ladder, a hammer in his hands.
"What are you lads doing? Get your butts upstairs, and that's where your work lies now!" Smith hollered. "And you, Zen! Why the delay? Have you forgotten what I told you, huh?"
"Hey! I was just about –"
"Shut it! All of us, out to the orcs, now!"
All twenty-five members of the Fiendbanes strapped the Goblin Mask over their faces and took up their Muramasa. One Fiendbane stood out.
"Boss, we'll do the usual."
Larzen nodded in silence again as he held his Zweihandler in both hands.
"Do me proud!"
Smith was already long gone. Larzen ascended the ladder to the workshop, and out of the windows he saw Smith stabilizing the Prontera forces. Glad that he did not have to walk a long distance again, he ran to join his warlord counterpart. Seeing the two warlords, the previously uneasy soldiers now stood straight with confidence, and with an indifferent look.
In the distance, an orcish horn sounded at a higher note, causing a loud roar from the green-skinned beasts. The orcs began their march, but wisely kept out of the hunter's range. A hunter descended the walls to make a new report to either one of the warlords.
"Sir Blaedmight! I request that you dispatch forces to the south gates! A batch of reinforcements is going to breach the gates!"
"What are the numbers?" Larzen inquired.
"No more than a hundred. They are mostly melee warriors."
"You may return," he bade off the hunter, then turning to Smith. "Yo, Smith. I'm afraid our boys can't do the usual. The south gates are under attack."
Smith was too preoccupied with fresh round of instructions to answer the warlord. He probably did not even hear what he said. Time was definitely not on their side. Taking matters into his own hands, Larzen rushed back to the workshop, and down the ladder. All twenty-five Fiendbanes were out of sight; he knew that they were hidden for the action.
"Boys, come on out! I've got new orders!"
No response came. Instead, an alchemist stood out, tugging on his beard.
"Might that be Piffy Brewlodt?" Larzen asked dubiously.
"Save it, warlord. Your men had gone off to the south, under my exaggerations," Piffy said, reading his mind.
"I've made this trip in vain, then!"
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Bits and chipped off pieces of wood came off the large, double doors of the southern gates as mechanisms outside hurled boulder after boulder at it. A group of high orcs banged at the doors with thick trunks and logs, their more forceful blows finally smashing it open. The orc commander gave the command –and the band of orcs came crashing through the south gates.
Hunters assigned to the south at the last minute let loose a volley of deadly arrows aimed not at the orcs, but at the mechanisms to snap the operations. The orc warriors overseeing the ballistae dropped dead, and the machines failed to function properly. Fitting another arrow, the hunters sent the second volley to the vanguard of the orc force.
As planned, the frontline fell, disrupting the successive rows of orcs who either trampled over their dead comrades, or tripped over them. The orcs were further caught by surprise when the Fiendbane Enforcers leaped out of nowhere with their Muramasa extended, gouging out their heart or the entrails. The ichor of the slain orcs splattered over the white streets, but not at all a revulsion for the band of twenty-five. They had become too accustomed to such sights.
The Prontera defenders were not completely unharmed. Instead, they had to rely on the Fiendbanes after all the hunters were taken down from the walls. Apparently, the orc warriors were not at all poor at their marksmanship, for a small group of them switched to a range combat, hurling javelins atop the walls. The hunters did not expect them to resort to these, and so all of them fell after a couple of volleys.
The Fiendbanes completely upset the orc ranks, but that problem was swiftly settled by the highly efficient orc commander. The orcs regrouped again, then roared a battle cry for the next mad charge. The spearmen had put aside their javelins, now that no rangers would harm them. A few members of the Fiendbanes were unfortunately slain, leaving the rest outnumbered one to two. Their morale was not of the usual standard, due to the absence of their "boss".
Just when they were at their mercy, a phalanx of foot soldiers and two priests led by the famous leader of Avenger, Cerberus served as reprive. Among the small group was the alchemist, Piffy, his new found Buster axe in his hands. Several groups of orcs broke off to meet the charge of Cerberus, only to have the scheming Fiendbanes to puncture a vital organ from behind.
The remaining who was not targeted then became victim of the two swords' magic. Swerving his two blades down in an arc, Cerberus sent bolts of flame and hoarfrost raining on them. Some were trapped in a frozen state, while others were scorched to death, their green hide charred. Mimicking his previous action, Cerberus smiled in satisfaction as another series of elemental bolts blasted the orcs to death.
The odds were now evened. Seeing this sudden turn of events, the orc commander shouted for a retreat, reminding them in orcish tongue that their lord had only ordered a hit-and-run. The miserable number of surviving orcs fled at their commander's yell, and the Fiendbanes raised their Muramasa in salute to Cerberus.
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"Destroy their archers!"
The hunters obliged immediately, they too knowing full well that the orc archers were a danger to them. Smith ordered the foot soldiers to engage battle with the orcs, and that proved to be a terrible mistake. The orc commander roared a command, and the orc warriors that had been carrying swords then raised javelins.
The lines of foot soldiers collapsed as the first volley of orc spears flew off. The hunters atop the walls became confused as to who should they target, for both spearmen and archers were threatening them greatly. A few hunters dropped off the walls when orcish arrows flew up.
Larzen himself was dumbfounded. He had never seen the orcs that clever at battles, and he had never seen the orc warriors made use of spears before.
"Cavalries, ready! Put up your shields –GO!" Smith roared with all his might as he pummelled an orc warrior's skull with his hammer.
At the warlord's command, the cavalries brought up their shields and reined their Pecopecos forward. The first line of cavalries faltered a little when a volley of spears and arrows pierced the steed rather than the rider. The second line managed to crash through the warriors-turned-spearmen, the Pecopeco trampling on the green-skinned beasts. Those at the rear put away their spears and reverted back to their swords instead, slashing at the steeds' legs.
"Cavalries! Hold your positions! Hunters continue firing at those damned archers!" Smith roared again.
Larzen bashed a warrior with the hilt, then brought his blade horizontally across his gut. He ducked as stray spears flew at him. Readying himself on a stance again, he yelled for the priests to ready their Pneuma spells to nullify the massive ranged attacks. A couple of priests obeyed, while the rest carried out Kyrie Elieson spells to create a magical shell of protection against melee attacks.
The cavalries started on a charge, yet again after the Pneuma was activated. Spears and arrows bounced off the defenders harmlessly, and they swore in further disbelieve when their swords too could not touch them. The tall steed smashed through more lines of orcs, breaking off the ranks.
"Footmen to provide support!" Larzen shouted to the fast diminishing foot soldiers.
"Make way for high orc!" the orc commander yelled to the orc forces.
A group of high orcs brought forward large ballistae, and began inserting huge boulders.
"Run after ten shot! Run after ten shot!" the commander yelled again.
A series of boulders hurled across the air and slammed into the walls, felling a great deal of hunters. The second volley of boulders went bowling over the foot soldiers, sending steeds crashing onto their side. The third volley followed, and the orcs started withdrawing. They fled the battlements, as the numerous boulders caused heavy casualties that were less likely to be recovered within their next assault…