Age of Heroes

The land turned moist red and the horse's hooves were digging around in the earth. Arial grab the hilt of the sword and tightened his grip around its handle.

Shadowslasher. Power radiated from the sword.

Before, Arial had use normal sword to fend off the monster but here is the perfect occasion to once again draw out the Enochian Blade.

He unsheathes the sword and he feel the energy coursing through his veins. The sword shines in black radiant light

Arial look at the moist earth and the scene that is unfolding upon him as the horse's charge toward him and reach the muddy area.

Some of the horses stumbles and fall onto themselves and he uses this opportunity to use Sweeping Star on the ground, decapitating five Firehorse in one strike of the Enochian blade, the strike ringing with power.

Any horses or rocks near the area were slashed and cut into two, leaving a deep gash on the ground.

Some of the horses slowed down.

'This is the time' Arial thought

'BREAK FORMATION AND LET LOOSE!' He yelled and his word resonated in the narrow passage.

The Orcs instinctively knew what he is planning.

Great military drills have been instructed to the Orcs since they were young. They see the moist ground and they knew now that the wind is blowing on their favour.

The Orcs filled with anger, raged and use their mace to strike a blunt attack on the horse head and the horses died in one strike, their head smashed to meat.

The Elven keeps using the blood shed to create moist earth, which is red and this just enhance the battle spirits of the Orcs.

The fact that the Elven is alone and still having the mana to pull such magic is impressive.

Seeing one of their friend fall in battle, is boost enough to their morale, exacting revenge on the horses.

Arial then leapt forward to where the action is, with the Enochian blade unsheathe, and ready his strike as he flew towards his targets.

As he leapt through the air, behind him vapors are formed because of the speed with which he launched himself.

Arial know this because he heard the Orcs exclaiming as they see him in the air.

When he reached the area, with one slash he killed three horses, a resounding sound wave that cut off even the large rocks around the vicinity, testament to his increasing internal energy.

Some of the nearby horses suffered the effect of his strike as their bodies were injured by large area of effect of his sword strike.

They neighed in pure pain and staggered as they suffered the blows.

Some horses charged at him.

Arial did not panic as he uses stabbing motion to stab them repeatedly, then changing to slashing and stabbing motion, rolling around using the Wind God technique and repeat the process of slashing and stabbing, killing many of the horses.

Blood filled the narrow passage with some of his comrade blood as the horses strengthened their attack but it seems that Arial group is winning.

The Orcs stand in amazement looking at him, looking, not believing that a human can have so much power.

'He flew around like he is riding the wind' one exclaimed

'Look at that, sliding around stabbing and slashing' they say in awe and admiration

'One strike and the horses body is cut into two' another chimed in

'WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING AT! CHARGE!' Arial said suddenly aware that the Orc stand dazed after killing the horses.

'YAHH' they replied

Hearing the yell, the Orc rushed these horses with their sword and maces, smashing and hitting.

'KEEP HITTING!' Arial yelled.

'COME ON! FASTER. KEEP THEM IN CLOSE PROXIMITY!' Arial on the other hand, smiling in satisfaction

He rolled side to side, dealing damages, using every technique he has, to dodge, to strike, to stab.

He is one with the sword and the sword is one with him in that moment. The fierce sharpness of the Enochian blade fills him with power.

He is moving around and around, leaving destruction and death as he swing the Enochian sword in his hands.

Never before he felt so invincible.

With his body moving like the wind and a legendary weapon in his hand Arial feel like a God of Old, raging in the battlefield, a state of awareness of everything that happens around him enhances his fighting ability.

The Horses, never being beaten this badly, is going wild with rampage but the sight of him killing bring a morale boost to the Orcs as they keep smashing heads and striking with their large mace.

It has been a long time since he is in a battle that makes his blood boils. Neighing scream erupted as one by one they fell to their onslaught.

Arial run around the battlefield using the Wind God Technique to slide around the feet of the horse and injure their feet, and cut their legs and they neighed in pain.

Arial focus the attack on their ankles and thighs while the Orcs with their mace smashed the fallen horse.

They began finding their momentum.

Arial would slash their feet, and the Orcs will smash their heads. And with his stamina they can kill even a thousand of them.

Now the horde of these fire horses is writhing with pain. They tried to kick him with their fiery hooves but he is too fast for them.

The Elven keep chanting and executing his spell while Arial kept his attack and some of the horses in the behind withdrew from the battlefield.

If it were him, alone, as he slashed another horse's ankle, it would take him a long time to slash their ankle and killed them

And while it is not impossible, it will be time consuming, but because of these Orcs, his work is easier.

Arial slash, they smash.

Their power in smashing is one Arial knew full well. In his timeline, the power of the Orc horde is undeniable.

'HAHAHAHA' the Orc laughed.

'We will feast on Firehorse meat today. A fine delicacy indeed.' Some of them cheers while smashing the heads of the horse with pure delight on their faces.

It is also good that these monsters appear. Orcs are wary of people weaker than them. It is their culture. This display of power is more for them than it is for him.

To foster trust and to show them who is the most powerful here. Actions beat words after all.

Blood filled the passage like a river is formed there; the stench to any normal human nose would be unbearable.

And there is Arial in the middle of battle, swinging his blade like a judgment from the Lord above, appearing like a God of War, each strikes produced a thunderous sound and screams of the horses were like a song of misery

Red blood spurted out from the horse's necks like fountains watering the passage while Arial is already onto his next prey.

Screams and neighing fill the passage, sounds of bones broken, swords and shields clanging, the passage smell of death, reeks of a massacre.

That is what happens, defying the circumstances.

Logically, if about two dozen people fighting a horde of Firehorse, anyone could say in absolute certainty that the disadvantage party is the people but here a defying scene is unfolding.

One man is massacring a horde of these monsters and the Orcs, the Elven and even the monster, their initial amazement and awe change into absolute fear.

They believe they are seeing a legend is unfolding in front of their eyes, an advent of a God.

Here and there, the horses collapsed like twigs, broken branches.

Arial keep slashing forward, never stopping to look back, his feet shows a dazzling footwork that enables him to flit around the smallest gaps between the horses and attack where there are vulnerabilities.

He moved forward with incredible speed that the Orcs have trouble pacing themselves with his speed.

That area was like a graveyard of horses with many horses on the ground having their head smashed by Orcs, or decapitated by Arial

the Orcs mace is already filled with sticky meats and brain matter of the horses. It even made the mace heavier.

This is the first time they killed so many monsters since the beginning of their journey.

The horses are getting pummeled, obliterated and the other horses that have good instinct retreated as fast as they have come.

Still Arial pursue them like a mad god, screaming for blood.

And by the end of the battle, Arial sit upon the mound of horse's corpse, their fire disappeared after they are dead.

The Orcs look at this amazing scene in front of them.

'To think'…they said.

'To think they underestimated this human'

Arial sitting on top of the mound, his Enochian blade shines behind his back, inviting reverie and then he took a breath like he is enjoying the scenery.

He smiles and then he said.

'Go alert the others. Tell them, we will have a feast tonight.' The Orcs cheered while the Elves brought back those who died to bury them.

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