Chapter 18: Blood on the Walls

Smoke and ash drifted like snow across the scorched battlefield. The once-proud citadel of Virellia, with its marble towers and proud banners, now bore the scars of war — arrow-pocked walls, shattered gates, blood-soaked courtyards.

Inside, the final stand was underway.

The Orcs, Goblins, and surviving Chios demons, driven by hatred and dark promises, surged into the broken keep. Their war cries echoed off stone as they charged through breach after breach.

But they were met by steel, fire, and fury.

---

The Dirty Dozen’s Last Defence

Isabella crouched high above the battlements, loosing bolt after bolt into incoming goblins on wolfback. Every shot found a target. She didn’t smile — her face was steel. Her sister-in-arms, Tanya the Flame Witch, stood at the gates below, unleashing gouts of magical fire, igniting ogres mid-charge.

“Hold the line!” shouted Queen Sarah, swinging her warhammer with a grunt, sending a goblin flying. Beside her, Michelle impaled a hulking orc through the gut with her glaive.

The air reeked of iron, sweat, and sulphur.

---

Sir Salty’s Duel

Near the keep’s main hall, in the heart of the chaos, Sir Salty stood alone, waiting.

Across the rubble approached Warlord Throgg Ironhide — last of the Seven Orc Lords. Towering, plated in blackened steel, fangs dripping blood, he wielded a battle axe of molten obsidian. His armour pulsed with stolen magic, stolen lives.

“So,” growled Throgg, “you’re the reason my kind burns.”

“You’re the reason my kind bleeds,” Salty replied.

They circled — thunder crashing above them, the castle trembling beneath.

Then they lunged.

---

The Final Clash

Steel slammed into steel. Sparks flew. The ground cracked. The two titans of war moved with terrifying speed and power.

Throgg smashed downwards, denting Salty’s pauldron. Salty countered with a sweep of Widowfang, cutting deep into the Orc’s thigh.

“You’re strong, human,” Throgg growled, coughing blood. “But strength doesn’t win wars — ruthlessness does!”

He unleashed a brutal swing. Salty ducked, rolled, and brought his axe up — slicing clean through Throgg’s arm.

The Warlord roared. “I’ll rip out your heart!”

But Salty had already leapt — axe overhead, face a mask of fury.

“For Maeve!”

CRACK.

The axe struck true. Throgg collapsed, a crater beneath him.

---

The Final Words

Coughing, dying, Throgg looked up at Salty with one blood-red eye.

> “You may have won the battle, Salty... but not the war... The darkness lives on... in the cracks... in the shadows…”

Then he was gone. Just another body on a mountain of the fallen.

---

Aftermath

The final orc lines broke as news of Throgg’s death spread. Goblins turned and fled. Demons howled in fury and vanished in smoke. The tide was done.

Cheers rang out. Trumpets of Virellia sounded from the towers. The Dirty Dozen, covered in grime and glory, gathered with Salty.

The battle was won.

But the cost… the cost was eternal.

Salty turned to the sky, remembering Maeve, and whispered, “Your death is avenged. But this world… it’s still bleeding.”

---

#Hashtags

#FinalStand #BloodOnTheWalls #SirSaltyVsThrogg #DirtyDozenVictorious #QueenMaeveAvenged #CastleSiege #WitchcraftAndSteel #FantasyBattleLegend #YouMayHaveWonTheBattle