Archbishop Michael and Lord archangel William stared at on another, looking over a map of the continent. Michael had black hair, dark eyes but had a soft expression, soft and yet vicious; a tall man of some 1.9 metres, thin and regal. William had a luminescent halo above his head, wings, and a sheathed sword, dark blue dress and uniform with glowing blonde hair.

  “You have done well to crush the Undead, that is why we are helping you. Sumar is nearly cleared out,” the Angel paused and swallowed some spit, “do you wish to crush the Orcs or the Demons first?”

  “We head south and crush the Demons. Urir and Teutona and then we crush Arar.”

  “May I suggest taking Urir first.”

  A messenger rushed into the room.

  “The Orcs have invaded on our northern border.”

  “New or old?”

  “The whole front is being attacked by Orcish warriors,” the messenger said, bowing his head, being respectful of the head of Angels and of Lin.

  “William. I want your help in totally crushing these cunts.”

  “Of course,” the Lord Archangel William said totally unfazed, “with pleasure.”

  The Orcs had 40,000 troops total, 20,000 wolf riders and 20,000 infantry. They were dressed in customary Orcish uniform, the nobility had more armour, the regular infantry less; regular infantry having chainmail and some plate armour, while nobles had more plate and more body coverage. Spears and axes, Orcish swords, some curved some straight. They were aiming for Lina and would have been successful, had it not been for the army that blocked them. It would not be the crossbows but the Angels appearing before the Orcs that would drive them back. Large glowing swords seared through Orcish flesh, Orcish crossbowmen attempted to pierce the Angels, the Angels appeared before the crossbowmen and ended them in long slashes that killed three or more in each stroke. Heavy cavalry smashed into the Orcish cavalry, light mages blinded the Orcs in dazzling light while the Angels slaughtered the Orcs on the field. The battle of the red fields was nothing short of a slaughter, the giant wolves dispersed fleeing from their fallen riders. The field was filled with Orcish blood. Orcs on occasion killed a man or two, sometimes even succeeding in bringing down an angel, only for the Angel to be resurrected. 2000 Angels turned the battle into a macabre slaughter. 10,000 Lin soldiers, 2000 Angels proceeded to butcher 40,000 Orcs. Leaving nothing but rotting corpses behind.

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  “Army command says we march on Uzal!” A communications officer shouted.

  “General Bellador, what about our supplies?”

  “We are to take them from our enemies,” Bellador proclaimed, “that seems logical enough right?”

  The soldiers glanced at their commander with worry. Mirzan, the archangel in command of the Angels on the field, looked behind him at the Human he was liaising with.

  “Is the Human plan’s quite sane?” Mirzan said to an angel.

  “We can facilitate them, this is after all a part of William’s plan. The more land, the more followers, the more magic.”

  “The more Angels…” the Angel said quietly.

  “Indeed.”

  Is that how it works? A human thought as he eavesdropped on the conversation.

  The Orcish bastion of Uzal did not expect an invasion, they had no idea that the Orcish invaders had been butchered. The dark walls suddenly experienced Angels on the battlements demanding surrender. There was some resistance, but a few were simply thrown off the battlements. Bellador got his communication crystal and talked to Michael himself.

  “What are we doing to the Orcs?”

  “What are you asking commander?” Michael said.

  “I want to hear from the archbishop himself, what are we doing with them? Expelling then, converting them?” Bellador asked, clearly begging for an answer.

  “Converting them,” Michael said, “take over the city of Uzal and show the Orcs that they will be part of Lin,” he said, leaving the way of accomplishing said feat deliberately vague.

  General Bellador marched into Uzal accepting the surrender of the Orcish governor. Hardly a gallant knight, he had a braided ponytail and a shaved front head. A peculiar character, taking out a sword that he made glow, the Orcs gawked at the barbarous man dressed in knights clothes, staring with awe, as the Lin troops marched into their city. Mirzan and his contingent of his Angels simply glided across the ground surveying both sides of the street. Orcs clutched their children, husbands grabbed their wives, craftsmen stopped smacking metal or carving wood, staring at their new overlords.

  “Serve Lin, and there will be no problems!” Bellador said lifting his sword, “Lin will conquer all!”

  The Orcs stared at the victors with shock but also awe, the victors were not too arrogant in their conquest, they paid for goods and services and did not kill the conquered anymore than necessary.

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