Chapter 250: B3: C40: Ride-or-Die Siege
Prince Omar Windstorm had never read of such a siege like the one that Ride-or-Die Village endured for the past two months. He’d never faced such challenges himself, nor have the Windstorm Tribe of the United Nomad Empire.
As a people who moved regularly based on the generational wisdom needed to survive in the arid and harsh lands in western parts of the Walled Continent, intense sieges weren’t the norm.
Granted, he was experiencing abnormal times.
There was the Darkrun Apocalypse that wiped out the universe and gave it a second chance during a period of darkness. Then there was the Dark Quarrel of Mountains and Moons that left the blue Sea Strider and orange Cavern Hellion damaged and conjoined, with Grimrock wiped out.
Such abnormal times would make most nomad princes and princesses run back to their tribes and stay with their concubine mothers.
Yet, here he was, on the northern wall, his Advanced Grimoire of the Windstorm Adept in his hand. With his other hand, he sent forth another epic spell, Cutting Wind Blast, while preparing another spell in his mind’s eye.
The Cutting Wind Blast sliced through armor, scales, and fur that covered the attacking kobolds. A dozen fell, but more jumped off the grotesque constructions of their own brethren’s corpses and scrambled onto the ramparts.
Omar and his fellow defenders cried out in defiance as the kobold menace cried in bloody rage and hunger. The kobolds sounded louder.
“Die fleshy things! Die, die, die!”