The Lord: In Another World, I Have a Summoning Card !-Chapter 33 : The Night of Bloodshed (4) (Thanks to The_Broken_Author for the Gifts)

Chapter 33: Chapter 33 : The Night of Bloodshed (4) (Thanks to The_Broken_Author for the Gifts)

Beneath the fortress wall, chaos and bloodshed reigned. Bodies shattered, limbs flew through the air, and corpses piled atop the rubble. The ground was drenched in red, and the dead stacked like hills of destruction.

Victor stood atop the wall, observing the scene with sharp focus as his eyes scanned the enemy lines. Suddenly, a new force of orcs emerged from behind the front lines.

These were unlike the others... even the shortest among them exceeded two meters in height, their bodies encased in heavy, solid armor that reflected the flames of the torches.

They marched with steady steps, as if the earth trembled beneath them, holding formation in a tight, spearhead-like structure aimed directly at the gate.

Victor whispered to himself,"A massive orc unit... fully armored..."

At that moment, he realized the orcs were betting everything on a decisive breakthrough. There was no time left to wait, no room for secrecy. He turned to the soldier beside him and ordered swiftly,"Prepare the great bows! This is our moment!"

He had kept them as a last resort—two massive weapons capable of launching enormous bolts that could pierce even iron. Specially designed by Arthur, their use was strictly reserved for critical moments like this.

Below, the armored orc squad surged forward with surprising speed despite their massive size, tearing through the rain of arrows, unfazed by wounds or losses. They were a killing machine, pressing onward relentlessly.

Countless orcs charged into battle, now engulfed in a rain of light arrows, pushing forward with even greater speed!

It had been a long time since they last tasted fresh human flesh and blood.

"I don’t know how long it’s been..."

"Since they last savored that sweet, white, tender human brain—how its softness clung to their tongues!"

And now, these orc forces hailed from the Nok tribe. Behind them, a mix of orcs from the remaining tribes waited, but they had been outpaced by the more elite warriors who had arrived first.

They had already caught the delicious scent of human flesh lingering on the fortress wall ahead.

Moreover, these humans carried pure, unfamiliar aromas—different from the northern folk who had been conquered repeatedly over the past years. Their flavor was refreshing and entirely new, capable of filling their bellies and bringing immense satisfaction.

"Blood! Brains! Flesh! Entrails!"

Orc Kargus was charging forward at full speed, his long-bladed spear in hand, eager to pounce on a hearty feast. As he drew closer, familiar human faces appeared atop the fortress wall.

A wide grin spread across his face, and his crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

From past battles—raids on forts and castles—he knew very well:Even if the humans had thick fortress walls, even if they were entrenched in castles and defended with all their might, most of them were weak.

So long as they weren’t those special knights from noble bloodlines—clad in full iron armor, wielding sharp weapons, and empowered by breathing techniques and transformations that granted them overwhelming strength—then the ordinary humans would crumble just from seeing orcs, their courage vanishing in an instant.

Let the orcs breach the wall easily, and they would unleash a massacre—slaughtering both soldiers and civilians hiding inside the fortress. The place would become an open banquet, where the orcs could pick and choose the juiciest cuts of meat from their prey as they pleased!

Just the thought of it made Orc Kargus insanely excited! 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The charge grew faster and faster.

After all, the Nok tribe orcs stood over two meters tall, and though their frames appeared lean, their bodies were packed with pure muscle and not a trace of fat—granting them incredible speed and agility, far superior to the heavy, hulking orcs from the Abyss.

With just two long strides, it was clear that the Nok orcs had reached the front, ready to strike!

All that stood before them now was a ten-meter-tall wall.

"I just want to rush the fortress at full speed—to claim the first wave of delicious meat and blood!"

But in that moment, it seemed the orcs had a clearer realization. As hundreds of Nok orcs closed the distance to just 200 meters from the wall, they noticed a group of human figures moving atop the fortress.

"These humans are scared! Terrified!"The Nok orcs screamed with excitement in their hearts, doubling their speed.

Their long, thin, and powerful legs pushed them forward with even greater momentum.

The archers on the wall began to lose focus.

The arrows raining down on the enemy bounced harmlessly off their heavy armor, causing little to no damage. It was as if an iron wall was slowly advancing toward them—a wall that could not be broken.

Despite the force of the arrow volleys, the frontline soldiers were nearly overwhelmed—until Victor’s voice rang out sharply from atop the wall, as sharp as a blade:

"Fire the heavy bows! Aim at the center of the formation!"

Then, thirty elite soldiers from the garrison stepped forward, split into pairs.

Each pair dragged forward a massive bow as tall as a grown man—resembled giant siege weapons, like oversized crossbows equipped with enormous iron bolts, reminiscent of the ones once wielded by ancient humans.

The weapons were aimed directly at the path the orcs were charging down.

Upon the fortress walls, hundreds of human troops stood ready to meet the enemy.They held heavy weapons and carefully took their positions.

Suddenly, thoughts echoed inside the minds of the orcs:

"Ballista!""Bow and arrow!""Ballista!"

But before those words could fully take hold in the minds of the orcs, a squad had already taken their positions atop the wall.

They pulled back the strings. The ground trembled beneath them as the first volley was released.

No words. No glances exchanged. They were fully prepared.As soon as their commander gave the signal, they raised their ballistae in perfect synchrony. Their movements were sharp and precise—like a finely-tuned war machine.

Fwoooosh!A massive iron bolt shot forth like a meteor, slicing through the air with a deafening whistle before slamming into the center of the armored orc formation with terrifying force.

The shield exploded, shards flying everywhere, and one of the orc warriors was completely crushed—his massive body tumbling to the ground in front of his comrades, disrupting the advancing formation.

Cries of rage erupted from the orcs, but they did not stop.Instead, their march intensified, the war drums thundering like a march toward death, without fear or hesitation.

"Fshh! Fwoosh! Fwoooosh!"The heavy bolts kept coming, each one carrying with it a promise of death.Soon, the frontlines of the orc formation began to suffer heavy casualties—especially at the very front.

And yet... there was a clear problem.

The number of heavy ballistae in the fortress was limited, especially when compared to the overwhelming size of the orc army.

In truth, the great bow was a double-edged weapon.

While its range far surpassed that of a standard bow, and its destructive power could pierce even the thickest armor, it required immense physical strength to operate—usable only by soldiers with exceptional physique.

Moreover, the farther the distance to the target, the less accurate the shots became.This led Victor to make a bold decision: to shorten the distance, increasing their chances of striking critical targets—though it risked exposing the heavy bowmen to enemy fire.

Yes, even the orcs had bows—specially crafted to suit their massive bodies and innate strength.

But they were few in number, and their accuracy was nowhere near that of the human-crafted bows, especially over long distances.

Even though the humans held the upper hand in terms of weapon strength, training, and sheer numbers inside the fortress, the true danger still loomed.

Despite the orc army’s failures in earlier assaults during Baron Edric’s reign, the most dangerous part of their force remained intact... the elite.

But the orc elites were not just skilled fighters—They were members of the fiercest tribes, born with bodies that could shatter stone.

Their muscular build and natural strength far surpassed that of any human, making them truly monstrous foes.

The physical differences between the orc tribes were immense—so much so that some of them, upon simply reaching adulthood, possessed strength equivalent to that of a seasoned human soldier who had served in the army for years, or even a human warrior who had advanced through the stages of Qi Breathing.

Even the weakest among them naturally rivaled a frail young human—or exceeded an average elderly man in strength.

From this, one can understand that surviving a siege by an orc army doesn’t depend solely on personal strength... but also on luck.

Just like what happened with Baron Edric, who was "fortunate" enough to encounter Gherom at the beginning of the siege.

Gherom, confident in his ability to breach the fortress with swift precision, saw the situation as a perfect opportunity to get rid of certain undesirable elements within his ranks.

He sent them in as the first wave of attackers.

But that reckless plan ended in disaster.

The majority of the forces under his command at the time were annihilated.

Arthur, in turn, learned of this maneuver—or at least deduced it from studying the battle records Edric had left behind. Though he was surprised by his predecessor’s "luck," he didn’t find it improbable.

After all, military opportunities like this—exploiting internal issues within the enemy’s forces—are common in major wars, especially along the front lines.

In times of crisis and opportunity, nothing remains constant.

The old aristocratic class collapses.

And in its place rises a new one—sharper, bolder, and more willing to make dangerous decisions.

—

In other words, even the weakest orc on the current battlefield holds a clear physical advantage over the average human soldier, who may have been just a farmer months ago, knowing only the plow and hoe.

That’s why, despite the greater number of defending soldiers inside the fortress, the balance of combat was anything but equal.

Gherom’s army hadn’t come to drown the fortress in a flood of orc bodies.

He had wagered everything on the elite—on quality over quantity, on efficiency rather than sheer numbers—even if that meant suffering heavy losses.

As for Arthur, he had come to understand what truly happened...

Or at the very least, he had deduced the hidden plan through a careful examination of the battle records left behind by Baron Edric.

Though surprised by his predecessor’s "good fortune" in repelling the orc assault back then, he didn’t find it strange.

This kind of maneuver—exploiting disorder and division within enemy ranks—is no stranger to the battlefield.

It’s a recurring theme in great wars, especially along the frontlines, where interests overlap and ambitions collide.

In times of crisis and opportunity, nothing remains fixed.

The old aristocratic class staggers under the weight of chaos.

And from the rubble, a new class emerges—bolder, sharper, and far more willing to gamble with the blood of its soldiers in pursuit of power.

—

On another note... even a simple comparison between the fighters on both sides reveals the stark gap:

Even the weakest orc on the current battlefield possessed physical strength surpassing that of the average human soldier—who, more often than not, had been nothing but a farmer just a few months prior, having never wielded a weapon in his life.

That’s why, despite the defenders outnumbering the attackers within the fortress walls, the balance was far from even.

Gherom’s army hadn’t come to crush the walls with a tidal wave of bodies...

Instead, he brought a single, razor-sharp card: the elite.

He bet on lethality, on deadly precision, on skill over chaos—even if that meant paying a steep price in lives.

The orcs did not stop.

For every one that fell, two more surged forward—tight-knit, unyielding, advancing like a force that knew neither fear nor pain.

In a harrowing moment, the outer layer of the gate shattered beneath the crushing blows of the massive war mauls wielded by the orcs in the front lines.

The screech of battered metal echoed through the air, and wooden splinters exploded in all directions.