A young boy is training. He strikes a wooden sword against some dummies made of hay. A tall man with a thick, black beard and wavy hair tells the boy, “For faster recovery, return to your main stance then follow through with the next attack after your initial strike.”

  The boy hits each dummy once.

  “What’s rule one, son?” the man asks.

  “Separate them for one-on-one fights,” the young Spero responds.

  He then backs away, stares at the dummy to his far left, and strikes the dummy cutting it in half with his wooden sword.

  “That’s my boy! You’ll be the strongest warrior in all the desert!”

  The man picks up Spero, and they both laugh together. The man places him down and sets his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “I miss you, Spero.”

  Spero wakes up from his daydream as Cyrus nudges him to focus. They’re standing next to a table with a large map displaying multiple territories: Aria, Assyria, Babylonia, Media, Qedar, and other parts of the desert.

  

  

  Three generals are standing on the other side of the table.

  General Basir calls Spero out. “Spacing out in the war room, as expected from an outsider.”

  Cyrus, about to speak up, is interrupted by Spero. “Might I remind everyone that this outsider is the sole reason any of your battles ended in victory?”

  The other two generals stifle a chuckle. “Basir, if you’re done with your comments, may we continue with planning?” Cyrus calmly asks, displaying his authority.

  Basir grits his teeth and looks down at the map as Cyrus continues.

  “Their outpost is located 30 kilometers out, only a day’s travel. We will divide into three groups. General Parsa’s group will be stationed here, and Ashkan and his men will be on the opposite side at the foot of the outpost. Basir, your soldiers will be in the back. If any orcs slip behind us, your archers should help pick them off or keep them at bay. Spero and I will be the first ones to infiltrate the camp. Spero will neutralize the mage and brutes, and I will be the main shield for all of you to rush in.”

  Ashkan points to the camp on the map. “How many orcs are we expecting?”

  “Roughly a hundred,” Cyrus replies.

  “And we’re only bringing sixty troops of our own?” Ashkan asks.

  “That is correct.”

  “We can’t sneak that many men through the desert without being detected, so the fewer the better,” Basir chimes in. ”However, these are orcs; they each have the strength of five men, and they outnumber us.”

  “Won’t they notice us approaching?” Parsa asks. Orcs have an incredible sense of smell.”

  “Perhaps we could use a magic barrier to hide our scent,” Ashkan suggests.

  Spero intervenes. “Orcs can also smell magic from 100 meters away. We'll wait until midday when they are preparing food. They use a heavy amount of spices in their cooking, so our scent will be masked.”

  Parsa nods in agreement and looks at Spero. “How do you propose we handle the number difference?”

  “Since I killed their general, this platoon of orcs lask formation and tactics. Positioning them won’t be an issue, but their immense strength will be. Orcs, unlike giants, are a bit quicker. They’re not as strong, but their warrior instincts are at a high level. Their skin is similar to a boar but tougher. Try to target their joints, eyes, and neck. Their tactics have evolved since the last time our forces faced them.”

  “Our people have always pushed back against the orcs from a distance,” Cyrus said. “This is where Basir’s archers will be critical. Our archery skills are close to the proficiency of the elves, and we will be able to keep them at bay for the beginning of the attack. Try to weaken as many orcs as possible with your arrows so we can finish them off quickly.”

  Everyone accepts the plan and leaves the war room to prepare for the assault.

  The following morning, the Anshan troops make it to their destination. They are about half a kilometer away from the orc camp. One of the scouts uses a magical tool to enhance his vision to see the orcs.

  

  

  “They started the fire, and are preparing the food as we speak,” the scout informs the soldiers.

  Cyrus signals his men and alerts the generals. “Good. We’ll get into position.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Each soldier goes to their assigned position behind large boulders and hilltops that surround the camp. The other generals signal to Cyrus, letting him know that they are ready. The orcs are below enjoying their meals, the air around them filling with the aroma of spiced meat and grilled vegetables. Cyrus raises his sword. The archers in Basir’s squad prep their bows, and Spero sneaks down to one of the tents where two brutes are eating. He stabs one in the neck with a knife and slashes the face of the other with his sword before they can make a sound. He then gives the signal, and arrows rain down on the orcs below.

  Cyrus sprints down, sword and shield in hand, boasting a war cry as soldiers follow. Parsa’s and Ashkan’s squads come down as well to fully surround the camp. The orcs frantically run to retrieve their weapons and try to collect themselves. Arrows are embedded in the joints of their arms and legs, and a few of them are killed in the surprise attack.

  The orcs grab their armor and weapons and begin to defend. Cyrus rushes in. An orc tries to get up but is bashed by Cyru’s shield, sending the foe toppling to the ground again. He’s finished off with a stab to the shoulder. The men behind scatter their spears and push in. A couple of Divinians are pummeled by clubs and an orc kicks them away.

  Cyrus ricochets an axe swing and slices an orc’s achilles. To his side, Spero stabs five orcs in a matter of seconds. Another group surrounds him, but he grabs a log from the campfire. He tosses it into the air and kicks it, spreading ash and flame. The orcs cover their eyes as the cloud of hot dust coverers their skin, and he kicks one in the knee causing the enemy to collide with another. A blade comes flying down, but Spero dodges and grabs the orc’s belt to redirect him. Spero uses him as a shield to block an incoming club, then stabs the orc four times and moves off to the side. As blood splatters around him, the orc that was knocked down tries to get up but Spero stabs his hand into the ground. As the orc screeches in pain, Spero shuts him up once he punches him in the jaw. As another orc closes in, he jumps over him and cuts his neck from behind. He then launches himself forward and quickly slashes the two remaining orcs.

  Crash!

  Rumble!

  Tents and Divinian soldiers are flung around. As wood and cloth are thrown, the sand vibrates increase and an orc brute comes charging in and knocks Spero into a tent. The brute is in full armor. The shoulder plates are adorned with horns surly to cause damage. The orc takes out his large club with metal spikes, twirls it, and rushes in, causing another tent to be demolished.

  Spero continues dodging and backing up to get a chance to slow down the assault.

  Hmm… Orc brutes are elite warriors, fast, aggressive, and strong. Should I create some distance or get as close as I can?

  Spero jumps on a nearby rock wall and launches himself into the brute. Confused, the orc swings his club and cuts Spero’s arm. Spero recovers and elbows the brute, knocking him back before delivering a jab to the brute’s chest, ribs, stomach, and kidney. He then dodges another attack and kicks the orc in the liver. With the orc unable to focus, Spero slashes at the monster’s legs and delivers a killing blow to its chest.

  Cyrus glances at Spero from across the camp. “The mage. Where is the mage?!”

  Spero’s eyes dart around, searching for the mage. A fireball hits a group of Divinans and knocks them to the ground. A blast of stone spikes hurtles toward him as he braces for impact. He gets blasted by the magic attack and is forced to the ground. As he gets up, he sees the mage.

  Orc Mage… Unlike normal mages who only specialize in magic, their orc counterparts have all the advantages of a warrior with the added benefits of mana buffs. They may not be the best fighters, but their long-range attacks make up for it.

  The Divinians can withstand the mages’s spells due to their natural magic resistance, but the orc’s spells are of a higher caliber. Spero may not be able to kill them instantly, but he’s weakening their body. The mage realizes that direct spells have no effect. A green circle appears at the top of the mage’s staff, transitioning into a neon-pink light. It surrounds the orc warriors providing them power and defense buffs. The Divinian mages try to keep them back with rock and fire spells but to no avail.

  “We need some mana buffs!” a soldier shouts.“I need some healing for my men over here!” another man relays.

  “We can’t use spells with that mage around,” Persa informs. “If we deactivate our mana shields, the orc’s spells will kill us”

  Spero sees that their army is being overwhelmed and decides he must use his powers.

  Chaos Variant, Sword of Madness!

  Noticing his power shift, some orcs charge towards him. Spero swings his sword, and the orc blocks it. A second later, it looks down to see its chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out.

  Spero then unleashes a flurry of attacks on another orc. Six blades flash around the orc, making it unable to distinguish which blade is the real one. With confusion setting in, the orc swings and misses, leaving him open to be cut down by Spero.

  “Why are the orcs trying to block and dodge attacks that aren’t there?” Ashkan asks Cyrus as he watches the fight.

  “I don’t fully know what that power is capable of, but it’s fantastic!” Cyrus says as he pulls his weapon out the chest neck of an orc.

  Spero swings his sword and the orc blocks it. However, it seems as if the blade phases through the orc’s blade without breaking it. The orc’s sword serves no defense, and Spero’s blade slices his opponent’s stomach open. Spero then approaches the.

  Damn you Divinians! I will feed you to our kin and grind your bones to dust,” it growls in Orcish.

  The orc creates a tornado of fire around the both of them and uses the flames to coat his bladed staff before charging forward. Spero dodges and kicks the back of the staff causing the weapon to go off balance. The orc uses sand magic to trap Spero’s feet into the ground, but Spero ducks to avoid a strike. The heat of the blade singes his clothes. He then breaks free from the trap and jumps back.

  He points his sword toward the mage and takes a deep breath. “Sword of Madness, Mirage of Shadows.”

  A black cloud reaches the orc, and the mage blasts it away with a wind spell. The mage is frightened and sees multiple Speros rushing toward him. The orc blasts a few of the clones which he strikes down. Spero’s madness sword blocks the blade, and darkness engulfs it absorbing the heat. One of Spero’s clones cuts the staff in half as another clone kicks him in the gut. The orc loses composure and creates an energy ball of heat. Spero strikes the ball before it can fully form, igniting his sword as darkness spreads and creates a dome around him and the mage. When the darkness dissipates, the orc is lying on the ground in a pool of blood.

  Upon seeing this, the other soldiers are in disbelief. They have never seen Spero use these powers in person. To everyone, it seemed that the mage had gone insane and was frantically fighting nothing. A few men said they spotted more than one Spero.

  Spero’s right arm begins to shake, and his head erupts into a bout of intense pain. He doubles over, clutching his head and rubbing his temples, quickly de-summoning his sword. When he does, the pain fades.

  * * *

  After a hard-fought battle, the soldiers travel back through the desert to the kingdom of Anshan. The sun is setting, and they are looking for a place to camp out for the night. They find a cliffside and head over. In the lead, Cyrus hears rocks crumble as he scouts the area. He signals those behind him to stay quiet, then whispers to the mages to put up a barrier to seal their scent. Magic circles appear around them, and a dome appears around them. Spero joins Cyrus at the front and sees what has caused them to slow down. A long scorpion tail swings back and forth, and a thick mane shakes off the sand from its head.

  “What is a monster like that doing here?” a soldier asks, surprised.

  “As long as we wait for the manticore to leave, we should be safe. This isn’t its nest, so it won’t stay for long,” Cyrus states as he motions everyone to lower their voices.

  Another soldier steps forward.” I heard a manticore’s venom is extremely valuable.”

  “We have several dozen men, we could kill it,” another man adds.

  A female archer points to Spero and asks, “Haven’t you faced one before?”

  Spero turns to her and crosses his arms. “I have, many years ago. And I almost died in the process.”

  “I will not sacrifice my men to make a few bags of gold,” Cyrus snaps. “Now, shut your mouths and wait for the creature to leave.”

  After a few minutes, the manticore leaves, and the group sets up camp to rest.