Chapter 38: War Part 29- Stupid Human!
GRRR!
Erot, the Ogre General of Seraphine's army, unleashed a guttural growl that rolled like thunder across the battlefield. The massive clang of metal against metal followed as his iron-studded club slammed into the equally enormous weapon of Ithriel's Ogre General. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, warping the heat-haze above the obsidian and rattling the bones of any soldier nearby.
The two towering beasts stood locked in place—shoulders bulging, muscles rippling, tusks flaring—locked in a primal test of brute force and craftsmanship. Their weapons groaned under the pressure, iron grinding against iron in a shriek that pierced through the roar of battle like a scream through stone.
Ogres were prideful of their craftsmanship, and few things ignited their blood more than a chance to prove it in battle. Erot was no exception. In fact, he lived for it.
That's why he hated the human.
'Human... dumb. He say he no want weapon, then use other stupid weapon.'
The memory of Lucy's refusal to wield a weapon he made, only to fight with another blacksmith's sword instead, boiled Erot's blood all over again. His fury didn't subside with time. It festered. It fueled.
Snorting hot breath through flared nostrils, Erot planted his feet deeper into the molten-cracked obsidian. Black shards crumbled beneath his heels, crunching like shattered glass as he began to push harder. His shoulders quaked with tension. The sheer force of his push sent tremors spiderwebbing through the rock, rippling out like aftershocks from an earthquake.
Ithriel's Ogre slid backward, heels dragging long gouges through the blackened field. The opposing general snarled in frustration, his massive frame grinding against the ground, trying to hold his ground, but it was useless.
Erot roared again, louder now, the sound reverberating across the canyon-like battlefield.
The other Ogre dropped to one knee with a thunderous BOOM, the obsidian fracturing beneath him like cracked ice under a falling boulder.