Chapter 13: Fiery Start (1/2)

As Mike and Morris approached the conflict, Mike could see that it seemed to involve two sides. A small group of armored humans in a shield wall seemed to be protecting a larger group that carried a few makeshift weapons while relying on a trio of wagons for protection. They were being attacked by a group of about 30 tall, muscular-looking, green-skinned humanoids. This group was primarily clothed in simple leathers and armed with a collection of rudimentary weapons.

A pair of better armed and equipped humanoids watched from the back, one of which was riding a massive insect-looking creature. It resembled a stag beetle the size of a draft horse. A pair of long, dangerous-looking pincers extended from its head. If anything, its rider seemed more fearsome. Dressed in a crude form of plate mail made from scavenged pieces, it rested a huge cleaver-like sword on its shoulders. The other was a smaller and more slender, dress primarily in leather armor and carrying a spear. A closed-face helmet hid the orcs features.

”Orcs!” Morris called from his position slightly ahead of Mike. He drew his short sword with his one good hand while directing his horse with his knees. ”You go help out the survivors, I'll distract the leader.”

Knowing that the older man had much more battlefield experience, Mike decided to follow his plan even though he had some apprehension about letting Morris take on the intimidating looking orc.

”Be careful. I promised to get you to Wyrport safely.”

Morris nodded before directing his mount towards the two orcs watching from the sidelines. The one riding on the back of the beetle grinned in anticipation while readying his cleaver-sword. The other orc stepped back out of the way, but kept his spear in hand.

Realizing he had a task to complete now, Mike turned his attention to the group of orcs attacking the caravan. Luckily, they had their backs turned. Wanting to clear a few of the enemies out of the way prior to engaging fully, he concentrated on his fire magic while stretching out his right hand.

His magic was still basic, so he couldn't make use of the overwhelming fiery explosions he wanted too. At most he could summon a small ball of fire that would ignite the target. He slowed his horse in order to take better aim and launched his attack as swiftly as he could.

A small orange fireball smacked into the back of one of the orcs and burst on contact, coating the unfortunate creature in flame. He began to scream horribly and trash about, trying to put himself out before the human he was fighting skewered him with a short spear.

A little shocked by the effectiveness of his attack, since he had only managed to scorch a few rocks during practice, Mike quickly summoned more of the fireballs and launched them into the crowd of orcs. By the time the sixth one had landed home, the nearby orcs had taken notice of the spell-slinging youth on horseback and a group of 8 broke off and charged him.

Mike focused, drawing even more mana and channeling it into his hand. He pointed his hand at the approaching group and released it in one burst. He felt the familiar sensation of understanding as his Basic Fire Magic leveled up, increasing the strength of his attack. A cone of flame washed over the leading orcs, swallowing three of them before they had time to scream. The remaining five stopped, looking on in horror at the charred bodies of their peers.

Fighting a wave of weariness caused by mana consumption, Mike drew his sword and kicked Barley into motion. He knew that shock from his attack wouldn't last long, and he needed to take advantage of it.

Despite his relative inexperience in combat, Mike understood the inherent advantage a mounted soldier had over those fighting on foot. Even though his horse lacked the temperament of a true warhorse, as a mount originating from the Order of the Wheel, she had received enough combat training to know her role in this fight.

Before the orcs had time to react, Mike approached and brought his sword down on the closest one. The orc was squinting as if the blast of fire had partially blinded it, but still tried to raise his club in a feeble defense. Mike's sword knocked the club out the way before lodging itself in the orc's head.

As the orc collapsed, Mike was almost yanked from the saddle before his sword pulled free. As he was being dragged down, he felt an impact score along his left side. He saw a crude looking spear tip flash by his vision. As soon as he could he whipped around to face the spear-wielding second in command.

Recognizing that he was in a dangerous situation, surrounded on both sides with his mana reserves dangerously low, Mike decided to try a delaying tactic.

”Wait! If continue to attack me, you'll regret it!”

The second in command paused. Mike couldn't tell what sort of effect his words had due to the helmet, but the orc's body posture reflected surprise.

A strangely high-pitched voice emanated from the helmet, ”You know our language? How? It is not something for you humans to know.” Mike frowned as he realized his Communication Magic had also shared the full meaning behind the translation for the word human, which apparently was synonymous with 'weak, squishy, prey beast' in the orc's language.