Osvald Hemingsson was standing in front of his army. He already knew the enemy was approaching; the forest had warned him through the movement of roots and the shift of the wind. Long before the soldiers could hear anything, he felt the distant march of thousands moving toward them. The land itself felt tense, reacting to the presence that was getting closer.
Behind him, the human and dwarven forces formed a vast wall of steel. Rows of human soldiers stood in disciplined formations, shields locked and spears angled forward like a field of iron thorns, while the dwarves reinforced the center with layered shield walls and heavy war hammers resting against their shoulders. Their armor gleamed under the pale daylight filtering through the clouds, yet even their confidence could not fully hide the tension spreading through the ranks.
Osvald did not turn to face them. His gaze remained fixed on the forest ahead, where the shadows between the trees had begun to thicken unnaturally. The leaves trembled without wind, and the birds had long since abandoned the sky above the battlefield. Everything living had already fled from what was coming.
When the first orcs emerged, they did not rush forward. They advanced slowly, deliberately, like a dark tide rolling out of the forest. Their numbers were vast, their armor jagged and scarred from countless wars, and the ground shook beneath their synchronized steps. Yet even among them, there was a space that remained empty, a widening path that split their army as they approached.
Osvald felt the pressure before he saw the source.
The air grew heavy and thick, as though the world itself struggled to breathe. Light dimmed, colors dulled, and the forest seemed to recoil in silent agony as Thavuk stepped into view.
The orc leader did not need to roar or raise a weapon to command attention. The void wrapped around him like a living storm, coils of violet darkness twisting across his body and dissolving into drifting ash before forming again. Every step he took left the ground darker, lifeless, as though the world beneath his feet had been quietly erased.
Osvald finally moved, stepping forward until he stood alone between the two armies. There were already more than one battle between them but he never saw Thavuk up close. It was the first time that he was in the fight like this.
"I had hoped the stories were exaggerated," he said, his voice calm yet carrying easily across the silent battlefield.
Thavuk studied him for a long moment, his glowing eyes filled not with rage, but with curiosity. "You are the druid who leads men. I expected someone older."
"And I expected someone less eager to destroy the world he stands on."
The void around Thavuk pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. "The world is already dying. I am merely honest enough to accept it."
The silence that followed stretched across the battlefield like a drawn blade. Soldiers on both sides tightened their grips on weapons, waiting for the inevitable.
Osvald lifted his staff slightly, and the ground beneath his feet stirred in answer. Thin roots pushed through the soil, curling around his boots like protective serpents. "Then let us decide whether it dies today."
Thavuk's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.
The battle began.
Osvald lifted one hand slowly, and the signal horns behind him gave a single long note. The sound rolled across the battlefield like distant thunder. At once, the front ranks began to move. Human infantry stepped forward in disciplined formation while the dwarves shifted with heavier, slower precision, their shields forming a solid wall that creaked with the weight of their armor. Archers pulled back, cavalry moved to the flanks, and the enormous army began to reshape itself.
Across the field, the orcs answered with their own horns, deep, guttural blasts that seemed closer to roars than music. Their ranks surged forward with brutal confidence, but even in their advance there was order. War drums pounded, and banners bearing the symbol of the orcs rose above the sea of warriors.
The two forces did not charge directly at each other.
Instead, as if guided by an unspoken agreement, the armies began to split. Lines peeled away to the left and right, widening the space between them. Soldiers glanced toward the center as they moved, understanding what was about to happen. This battle would not begin with chaos. It would begin with a clash of leaders.
The gap widened until a vast circle of empty ground lay between the two armies. Dust swirled in the wind across the open space, untouched by marching boots. Thousands of warriors stood on either side of the clearing, watching, waiting, gripping their weapons in tense silence.
From the orc ranks, a massive figure stepped forward.
Thavuk walked alone.
He towered above even the largest of his warriors, his dark skin marked by faint lines of violet light that pulsed like distant lightning beneath the surface. With every step he took, the ground beneath his feet dimmed, grass turning brittle and gray.
On the opposite side, Osvald stepped forward to meet him. He removed his cloak without taking his eyes off the approaching figure. The wind lifted his hair and tugged at his robes, carrying the scent of damp soil and leaves that clung to him like a second skin.
The distance between them slowly vanished until only a few dozen paces remained.
The armies watched in complete silence. Even the drums had stopped.
Thavuk spoke first, his voice deep and heavy. "So the druid greet me himself."
Osvald did not raise his voice. "You have come far from your lands. Turn back, and your people may still live."
A faint smile stretched across Thavuk's face. "You speak of life as though it is something precious. I speak of power."
The wind shifted sharply, circling Osvald as if responding to his mood. "Power that devours everything leaves nothing to rule."
The air around Thavuk darkened further, and faint strands of violet mist drifted from his shoulders. "Then stop me."
Osvald raised his hand, and the earth beneath his feet cracked softly as roots stirred deep below the surface.
Behind them, thousands of soldiers tightened their grips on sword hilts and axe shafts. The silence became unbearable, stretched thin like a drawn bowstring.
Then the ground between the two leaders split open.
A surge of roots burst upward like a wave of living wood, racing toward Thavuk in a twisting wall meant to bind and crush. At the same moment, darkness erupted from the orc warlord in a violent explosion of void energy that swallowed the roots in midair and turned them to drifting ash.
The shockwave rolled outward across the empty field.
The battle of the armies had not yet begun, but the war had.
When the soldiers saw their leaders collide, the battlefield erupted. Human infantry and dwarven shield-bearers surged forward in tight formation and slammed into the orc front line. Steel rang against crude axes and heavy cleavers as the first ranks crashed together. Behind them, archers released volleys in disciplined waves while mages cast from prepared positions, sending streaks of fire, frost, and lightning over the heads of their allies.
Thavuk lifted one hand and gathered void energy into his palm. The power condensed into a dense, black sphere that hummed with pressure and distortion. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he launched the orb straight at Osvald.
Osvald planted his staff and drew in a rush of air. Wind spiraled around the wood, building speed and force until it formed the shape of a massive tornado dragon. The construct lunged forward and struck the incoming orb. The wind tore through the sphere, but the attack did not stop. The orb shattered into several smaller fragments that scattered across the battlefield. Each fragment struck soldiers from both sides and drained the life from their bodies in an instant.
Osvald scanned the field, anger tightening his expression, then fixed his gaze on Thavuk. The orc warlord watched the destruction with a satisfied smile, unmoved by the loss of his own warriors.
Thavuk drew his arm back, preparing another attack. At the same moment, the ground beneath his feet began to shake. The earth split and lifted as thick roots forced their way upward. Osvald drove massive branches through the soil and raised a wide section of land into the air. Within seconds, the platform hovered far above the battlefield. Trees twisted and grew along its edges, forming tall walls reinforced with a glowing green aura.
"You want to fight me and protect others at the same time, and that will cost you the battle," Thavuk said with a smirk.
Osvald pressed both hands to the ground. "We will see."
His body began to change. Muscles swelled and bones shifted with loud cracks. Thick fur spread across his skin as his frame expanded. Within a minute, he stood transformed into a bear nearly fifteen meters tall. Dark green energy clung to the tips of his fur, giving him the presence of an ancient, battle-hardened beast.
Thavuk sensed the danger immediately. He slammed both hands against the ground and poured void energy into the stone. Darkness spread outward like liquid ink, bubbling and swelling until it rose into a towering shape almost as tall as Osvald's bear form. The creature pulled itself upright, its body made of thick shadow and smoke that never stopped shifting. Purple and blue light pulsed inside it like veins filled with energy. Its long arms dragged across the platform before lifting into a heavy guard.
Osvald did not hesitate. The massive bear charged, each step cracking the stone beneath his weight. He swung a paw the size of a wagon and tore through the creature's chest. The strike carved a deep gap through its torso, scattering shadow and glowing fragments into the air. The wound closed almost instantly as the darkness folded back together.
The void creature answered with brute force. It drove both arms forward and met Osvald head-on. The impact shook the entire platform and sent cracks racing across the stone. The creature tried to hold him in place, its long arms wrapping around the bear's shoulders and neck, but Osvald pushed forward with raw strength. He tore through its grip, claws ripping through its body again and again. Every strike shredded pieces of shadow, yet each wound sealed as fast as he made it.
The creature swung a heavy arm and smashed into Osvald's side. The blow pushed the bear several steps back and sent chunks of stone flying from the platform. Osvald roared and lunged forward again, slamming his shoulder into the creature's torso. They clashed together, trading blows at close range. Each hit shook the platform and scattered debris over the edges.
After several exchanges, Osvald forced the creature off balance. He drove one massive paw into its chest and pushed it down onto the ground. The platform cracked beneath the weight as the void creature struggled against him. Osvald lowered his head and opened his jaws. Wind gathered first, spinning faster and faster, then flames ignited within the storm. The two forces compressed into a dense sphere of fire in his mouth.
When he released it, the blast swallowed the battlefield in light and heat. The explosion roared outward, powerful enough to erase an entire village.
Thavuk stood behind layers of void shields and watched through the fire and smoke. When the flames finally faded, only Osvald remained in his bear form. The void creature had vanished.
Thavuk smiled.
Void energy leaked from beneath his feet and spread across the platform. A wide pool of darkness formed and began to boil. From it, dozens of warped monsters clawed their way out alongside thick, writhing tentacles that lashed across the stone.
The fight was far from over.