The ground shook as the orc cavalry thundered forward, their scimitars flashing in the sun.
"There are more bugs ahead!" one snarled in its guttural tongue.
"Hahaha! Let me, Batuna, take their heads!" another roared. "I'll use their skulls as bowls!"
The horde laughed savagely, fangs bared, their wolf mounts foaming at the mouth.
---
A Knight's Resolve
The noise of the charge rolled like thunder across the plain. To the ears of Knight Korman, it was the sound of doom itself. Sweat trickled down his forehead beneath the iron helmet.
He gripped his longsword tightly, drawing his shield into position. He had no illusions—today, he would die.
But there was no fear.
As the sworn guardian of Princess Caroline of Kiswell, he had always known this day might come. Knights lived by oaths, and if death was the price of loyalty, then so be it.
---
Calm Amid Chaos
Beside him, the Ross squad leader hefted his MG42 calmly, speaking with unnerving casualness.
"Let them get closer. Thirty meters," he said. "Then fire. We'll wipe them out completely. No point scaring them off too early."
"Clear," his men replied without hesitation.
Korman blinked, stunned. The enemy horde was almost upon them, and yet the Ross soldiers joked, as though this were training, not a fight for their lives.
What kind of madness is this?
They carried no bows, no crossbows. The "weapons" in their hands looked like short, stubby spears—utterly useless against charging cavalry.
Korman's heart sank. At best, we'll buy Her Highness a little more time…
---
The Charge
The orcs bellowed, their hideous laughter close enough now to see the fangs in their wide mouths.
The squad leader narrowed his eyes. "Now."
"FIRE!"
Korman spurred his horse and roared his oath: "Glory is my life!" His sword gleamed as he charged headlong into death.
The Ross soldiers opened fire.
"CHUG-CHUG-CHUG-CHUG!"
The MG42 screamed, unleashing a storm of lead. Sparks and fire burst from its muzzle, brass casings clattering onto the dirt like rain.
More than ten orc cavalry were ripped apart instantly. Screams filled the air as bodies toppled from their mounts, blood spraying across the grass.
Korman froze. His blade hovered mid-swing as he stared in shock. The orcs who moments ago had seemed unstoppable were dying by the dozen, shredded before they ever reached the line.
"What… what is happening?" he whispered.
---
A Massacre
All around him, bullets tore the air. He could almost see their paths—lines of death cutting straight through flesh and bone. Orcs were thrown from their saddles like dolls, wolves collapsing mid-leap, their bodies riddled with holes.
The survivors tried to push forward, but it was as if an invisible wall barred them. None advanced more than a few steps before being torn down.
The orcs' bravado turned to terror.
"These humans are magicians! Retreat! Retreat!" cried one in panic.
The formation broke. Orcs wheeled their mounts desperately, fleeing across the plain.
---
Pursuit
The squad leader barked a laugh. "Running? Did you ask my machine gun if you could run?"
"Give me the wheel!"
He and his men scrambled onto an armored vehicle, parked nearby. Each Ross squad had one for anti-bandit patrols. The engine roared to life, the steel beast growling as it rolled forward.
Korman's jaw dropped. What is this monster? A carriage with no horses?
The vehicle surged past him, faster than any warhorse.
---
Caroline's Despair
Ahead, Princess Caroline rode hard, her red hair streaming in the wind. Tears streaked her face.
"Korman! Brave soldiers of Ross! I will remember you always," she cried, believing they had sacrificed themselves for her escape.
Her heart broke as a loud explosion echoed behind. She dared not look back. To imagine their torn bodies was agony enough.
"Forgive me," she whispered. "You gave your lives for me."
---
The Impossible Sight
But then came the hum.
"BZZZZZ."
The sound of an engine, loud and unnatural, closing in fast.
"Your Highness!" a voice shouted.
Caroline gasped. She knew that voice—Korman's voice. But that was impossible. He had been surrounded. He was surely dead.
Then another voice called out, bewildered yet alive: "Miss, it's all right! The pursuers are gone! If you wish to meet His Majesty Gavin Ward, we'll take you to Ross City ourselves!"
Caroline twisted in the saddle, eyes wide with disbelief.
Behind her, the Ross soldiers sat atop the steel beast, grinning. The armored car rolled forward effortlessly, faster even than her horse.
And there, still clad in dented armor, helmet removed, sat Knight Korman—his face slack with shock.
---
A Knight in Doubt
Korman's eyes stared at nothing. His lips moved soundlessly. His mind reeled.
This wasn't battle. This was slaughter. A massacre.
Hundreds of orc cavalry annihilated by just ten Ross soldiers.
In his lifetime, he had seen whole armies struggle against orc raiders. At least three times as many human cavalry were needed to push them back. And even then, losses were terrible.
But here—ten infantry had wiped them out like children chasing rats.
Are they magicians? Is this some secret royal guard?
He searched desperately for explanations, any reason that fit his knightly worldview. Perhaps Ross had given these men enchanted weapons. Perhaps these were the personal guards of King Gavin himself.
But no matter what lie he told himself, the truth was plain:
The Kingdom of Ross fought with powers beyond his understanding.
Korman leaned back against the armored hull, gazing up at the sky. The wind stung his face as the vehicle rumbled on. His hands shook—not from fear, but from the shattering of certainty.
For the first time in his life, a knight of Kiswell doubted everything he knew.
--
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