The village square was a maelstrom of chaos. Boar-like orcs surged forward in a tidal wave of tusks, bristled hair, and unrelenting hunger. Smoke and dust filled the air, mingling with the screams of livestock and villagers alike. The younger twin's gauntlets smashed into the first wave of attackers, shattering tusks and crushing skulls with raw, unrefined force. Yet every victory felt fleeting; no matter how many he struck down, more pressed forward, an endless tide of destruction.
He spun, fists flying in a desperate rhythm, when a pack of orcs broke through the perimeter, surrounding him. One lunged with jagged tusks aimed for his head. He barely managed to deflect with a gauntleted forearm, staggering back under the combined weight of brute force and sheer numbers. Panic flared. He could feel exhaustion settling into his muscles, and for the first time, he realized just how outmatched he truly was.
A sharp, commanding voice cut through the chaos. The village chief appeared, moving with unmatched precision, each step deliberate, every strike calculated. In a blur of motion, he swept through the orcs, sending them sprawling, breaking their momentum. With a swift gesture, he shielded the younger twin from a particularly massive tusked creature, crushing it beneath his combined strength and resolve.
"Move!" the chief shouted over the din, his voice carrying authority that even the orcs seemed to sense. "Now, while you can!"
The younger twin, gasping for breath, did not hesitate. He grabbed the girl's hand, pulling her toward the chief's position. Around them, others were converging: the older twin leaping into the fray with precise strikes, the princess staying slightly behind the frontlines, her hands glowing as she unleashed blasts of magical energy that staggered approaching orcs and shielded fleeing villagers. The young lord and the older Oni formed a protective cordon, while the plain man moved with quiet efficiency to guide fleeing villagers.
The chief's eyes scanned the battlefield. He raised his voice, barking orders that cut through the storm of noise. "Everyone, follow me! To the edge of the forest—escape is the only option!"
The younger twin felt a surge of relief at the chief's command, but it was short-lived. A massive orc tore through the perimeter, its tusks aimed at the chief. The chief raised his weapon, taking the full brunt of the strike. The impact sent him crashing against a splintered fence post. The younger twin's stomach dropped.
"No!" he roared, charging forward, gauntlets outstretched. But before he could reach the chief, the older twin intercepted, keeping him from running straight into certain death.
The chief pushed himself to his feet, blood streaking his robes, face grim but resolute. With a final glance at the younger twin and the others, he surged into the orcs once more, forcing a path through the chaos. A massive swing, a crash of bone and tusk—and the chief fell. Still, his effort bought precious seconds. His sacrifice was absolute.
The younger twin's chest burned—not from exertion, but from the searing pain of witnessing the first real loss. He clenched his fists, heart hammering, but there was no time to mourn. The chief had given them their chance, and now they had to take it.
"Go!" the older twin shouted, pulling the younger twin toward the forest's edge. The girl, the princess, the young lord, the older Oni, and the plain man followed, moving in a coordinated rush through the thicket. Behind them, the orc horde's cries echoed, mingled with the sound of destruction and the occasional roar of the Orc Lord, looming like a shadow over the battlefield.
Branches tore at their clothing and faces, roots tripping their feet, yet they did not falter. The younger twin's gauntlets tore through small obstacles, clearing the path with furious swings. The princess's magic flared repeatedly, blasting orcs away, erecting brief shields, and creating openings for the group to move faster. The girl kept close to the younger twin, her eyes meeting his once, conveying a shared resolve. They would survive. They had to.
The group reached a ridge overlooking the village. Smoke rose from toppled huts, and the chaos below was unending. Even from a distance, the younger twin could see the Orc Lord moving deliberately through the center of the horde, a towering nightmare whose presence seemed to sap the courage of all who glimpsed it.
The older twin placed a hand on his shoulder. "We survived because we followed orders. We will live because we will fight smarter next time."
The younger twin clenched his gauntlets, jaw tight. The chief's sacrifice weighed heavily on him, fueling a burning resolve. He had been saved, and now it was his turn to carry the will of those who had fallen.
The princess's gaze hardened, hands glowing with lingering magical energy. "We cannot stay here. Not with this threat still alive."
The young lord nodded. "Then we follow. The chief gave us this chance. We will not waste it."
The group moved as one, descending into the forest path that would take them away from the village. Behind them, the Orc army continued its rampage, tearing through everything in its path. The younger twin stole a final glance back, fists clenched around his gauntlets. This battle was not the end—it was the beginning.
He would grow stronger. He would protect those who could not protect themselves. And when the time came, the Orc Lord would pay for every life it had threatened, every soul it had terrorized.
For now, survival was victory enough. And the younger twin, flanked by those who would become his closest allies, ran toward a future forged in chaos, sacrifice, and the promise of strength yet to come.