Chapter 602: Sea of Orcs
Kryssia’s breath came in white, icy clouds with each exhalation. The air around her trembled with the intensity of her ice, a living barrier against the approaching sea of bodies. Beside her, Xenovia, her purple hair disheveled and her eyes blazing with fury, spun her blade, coated in black flames that seemed to swallow the very light of day.
There were so many creatures.
Orcs, red-skinned, green-skinned, gray-skinned. Large, small, muscular, misshapen. All roaring at once, their makeshift weapons—axes, maces, broken spears—clinking like a savage army. The ground was already shaking with their rush, and the smell of blood, sweat, and decay permeated the air.
Kryssia gritted her teeth.
Xenovia spat on the ground, her face smeared with soot.
“It’s been two days of this, Kryssia! Two damned days!”
Kryssia raised her arms, and pillars of ice shot from the ground, piercing five, six orcs at once, lifting them into the air like bloody stakes. “I noticed, Xenovia! But today they crossed the line. That’s not a hundred… it’s a THOUSAND!”
Xenovia advanced, her blade slashing in an arc. The black flames spread, creating a crescent of fire that engulfed dozens of orcs at once. They screamed, but there was no mercy—only the crackling of flesh being consumed by the flames of ruin.
“It’s the island!” Xenovia screamed, kicking an orc in the chest and running another through with her sword. “She’s spitting them out in waves! Ten the first day… then a hundred… now… THIS!”
Kryssia retreated to cover her rear. The ground froze beneath her feet, and a wall of ice rose, blocking a wave of enemies trying to surround them from behind. The orcs slammed into the barrier, roaring, cracking the ice with their blows. Kryssia raised her palm, and a giant ice spike pierced the wall, piercing twenty of them at once.
“Then we have only one choice,” Kryssia muttered, her blue eyes shining like blades. “Survive the wave until it stops.”
Xenovia laughed wildly, even as blood trickled from a cut on her arm. “Survive? Hah! I want to see how long this damned island can last spitting out cheap meat!”
She raised her sword high, and black flames exploded, creating a rain of corrupted fire that rained down on the horde. The orcs screamed and writhed, but still pressed forward, as if unafraid of death.
Kryssia took a deep breath, feeling her energy drain away. She knew she couldn’t carelessly expend so much power… but as she looked at Xenovia, who was advancing alone against dozens of enemies, she felt the need to respond.
With a movement, she stomped her feet, and a wave of ice swept across the front line. The orcs’ legs were frozen to the knees, trapping them. Xenovia took advantage, running straight ahead, cutting them down like straw dolls.
“Good one, Kryssia!” she shouted, never stopping her killing.
“Just don’t make me carry you later, idiot!” Kryssia replied, hurling ice spears into the mass, each impact exploding into sharp shards that tore apart flesh and bone.
The battlefield was in chaos. The ground was a carpet of corpses. Blood dripped, forming small red puddles that reflected Xenovia’s flames. Kryssia’s ice mingled with this sea of death, creating macabre sculptures—bodies split in half, frozen in the instant they were shattered.
But the wave didn’t stop.
For every ten dead, twenty emerged from the undergrowth, roaring, as if the forest were an infinite portal.
Kryssia was already panting. Her body ached, and her energy seemed drained. She raised a wall of ice again, but this time it emerged thinner, cracked. “Damn…”
Xenovia realized, stepping forward to cover her companion. She swung her sword around them, creating a circle of black fire that drove the orcs back for a few seconds.
“Hold on tight, Kryssia! I won’t let those bastards get close!”
Kryssia fell to her knees for a moment, her eyes closed. The ice beneath her spread in thin lines, like roots. The cold seeped into the ground, freezing everything within fifty meters. The advancing orcs’ feet stopped in their tracks, and their skin began to crack from the inside out. They screamed, trying to break free, but the ice crushed them.
Xenovia saw the opening and screamed:
“NOW!”
She raised her sword with both hands, and the black flame roared like a living beast. With a vertical slash, she opened a fiery rift that swept through the entire enemy line. Frozen bodies exploded into a thousand flaming pieces, a grotesque rain that covered them both in blood and ash.
The field was silent for a few moments. Only the crackling of the flames and the wind rushing through the trees.
Xenovia breathed heavily, leaning on her sword. Kryssia trembled, her face pale from the exertion.
But then… footsteps.
Heavy. Rhythmic.
A sound like war drums echoing in the distance.
They both looked up at the same time. The forest ahead parted, and from them emerged even more orcs. Not a hundred. Not two hundred. But hundreds, marching together, shouting as if part of a ritual.
Kryssia stood, even as her body staggered. “It’s not over… it will never be over…”
Xenovia smiled, but her eyes burned with fury. “Good. If the island wants to drown me in blood, let it try.”
She raised her sword again, the black flames growing, consuming even the air around it. Kryssia spread her arms, and the ice answered the call, creating spikes, walls, and spikes across the field.
And together, side by side, the two advanced against the sea of enemies again.
Flames and ice, shadow and cold.
A bloody ballet in the heart of an island that seemed determined to devour them.
Their roar echoed across the field, mingling with the orcs’ roars, and the battle resumed—even more violent, even more desperate.
The noise was deafening.
The orcs clashed their weapons against each other, creating a warlike rhythm that shook the ground. It was as if the entire forest had become a colossal drum, pulsing, vibrating, announcing the inevitable slaughter.
Kryssia was breathing heavily. Her blue eyes glittered, but sweat ran down her pale face. Her muscles trembled with the effort of keeping the ice flowing unabated. The ground around her was already an artificial tundra, covered in frozen, shattered bodies.
Xenovia, on the other hand, looked like a demon from hell. The sword in her hands was nearly melting, so powerful was the black flames pulsing within. Her body was covered in blood to the waist, partly her own and partly her enemies’. Her purple eyes glowed, filled with an almost inhuman rage.
“Kryssia!” she screamed, spinning the blade and opening a clearing of fire between the advancing orcs. “Can you still stand?”
“I have no choice…” Kryssia replied, raising a barrier of ice that blocked a barrage of thrown spears. The tips shattered against the crystalline wall.