The Undead Rose

The Undead Rose

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Author: qixuan

Word Count: 37

The story is set in the early part of the story. In other words, the timeline is in the past. At that time, the orcs were still very strong,

and the elves had not yet established diplomatic relations with humans. In other words, the elves and orcs were enemies. The city of desire, also known as the Black Mist City,

was nowhere to be seen. Moreover, alchemy and magic were not advanced at that time. Then, the story begins.

White Rose, the city-state closest to war on the southern plains, is a thousand miles away from the horizon and a few miles to the west of

the sea of trees. It also faces the annual onslaught of the orcs. Fortunately, there is the steep and dangerous Lingdong Mountain Range to block it.

The entrance to the mountain range is White Rose, a city that is entirely white. The white stones have been stained

slightly . Since its construction, this city has been constantly subjected to attacks and has become a war fortress.

It firmly holds the throat of the orcs' southward advance.

Even though the city has only been built for a year. However, if the orcs want to invade the southern plains, they must first pass through

it.

At this moment, amidst the dense forest, faint laughter and rough voices could be heard. From afar, one

could tell they belonged to orcs, wild and untamed, yet they often dwelled within the forest.

In this forest, a few snow-white women stood out starkly among the green-clad orcs. The

orcs, their thick, long genitals erect, leered at the women. Their enormous genitals, easily a foot

long and incredibly thick, were enormous. The women were kneeling or squatting, their upper bodies bound with rough hemp ropes, while their vaginas and

anuses were penetrated by two massive penises. With each thrust,

crimson blood even oozed from the green phalluses. For the human women, this was excruciating pain; their cries were futile,

only adding to the amusement of the green-clad orcs.

In the center of the orcish horde, an exceptionally strong orc was thrusting in and out of a snow-white body.

The woman's beautiful figure, lovely face, tear-stained cheeks, and resentment in her eyes all indicated that she was

being forced. The orc's thick penis was thrusting in and out of her vagina, the pain almost unbearable.

Under the orc king's frenzied thrusting, she appeared to be in extreme agony, her screams sounding

so pleasing to the ears of the orc king, Kol. The huge scrotum slapped against the woman's lower body with a slapping sound, and with each withdrawal,

the green penis always brought out fresh red flesh. The woman's cries were futile. The orc's terrifying genitals and

the high-level warrior's stamina combined to give the woman either extreme pain or extreme pleasure. And clearly, this

woman was not one of those legendary races, but just an ordinary human.

Cole's madness was palpable; his erect penis, hard as iron, pounded deep into the woman's vagina, each thrust

eliciting screams from her. It was a miracle she hadn't fainted. Only

her eyes, filled with a deep-seated hatred, were fixed on his face. In her icy blue eyes,

a white battle flag was faintly reflected—the most painful scar in the orc's heart.

Cole's rugged face was etched with rage, his eyes bloodshot. He stopped thrusting, drew his

sword, and slashed down. The woman's contorted face rolled to the ground, her long, jet-black hair

spreading out among the fallen leaves. A gentle breeze stirred, revealing her eyes, fixed on the distant,

nascent city, yet brimming with murderous intent.

Cole kicked the woman's headless body aside, his two-meter-tall frame rising upright, his face filled with hatred

as he stared eastward at the city-state that had been the greatest obstacle to the orcs.

His rage burned relentlessly, his roar echoing through the forest. The distant wind rustled the leaves,

its accompaniment to his howls. The orcs present clearly felt

the king , their eyes fixed on the east, as if they wanted to break free of the forest's barrier and raze that distant city-state to the ground.

In fact, the orc king had seen such people more than once. On orcish territory, even facing the orcs'

slaughter , they still glared at all their enemies with eyes like knives, even those captured. Their

silent hatred—was this the hatred between two races passed down through generations?

Cole's heavy breathing echoed through the forest. Looking up at the sky, his wild face was dappled with

sunlight. Through the dense canopy of the forest, the sun shone only faintly, yet its light was still blinding.

"Bury that woman,"

Cole said after a while, looking at the headless corpse on the ground. Then he glanced at the still-

living woman.

"Kill them all."

The White Rose was crafted from fluorite, a common material on the continent. In the sunlight, it shimmered, beautiful and

captivating. However, the scattered crimson spots within the city, and the heavily armored warriors standing like statues on the city walls,

spoke of another side of this city. Shouts echoed from the military camps outside the city, and battle flags

fluttered fiercely in the sunlight, telling ancient tales.

The White Rose, backed by the Lan River, faced the southern plains, a battlefield. Whenever

the orcs attacked, the White Rose's black-armored knights would don their heavy armor, take up their lances, and wait silently

before the Lan River. The White Rose's sturdiness could withstand the orcs' attacks. When the orcs were exhausted,

the black-armored knights would raise their battle flags, transforming into a torrent, rising from the Lan River and charging along the White Rose's main road.

Along the way, friend or foe, any obstacle in their path would be torn to shreds.

The charging knights, their hooves thundering, shattered the orcs' courage. The white rose banners, raised high, were a blinding sight in

the black torrent, yet they inflicted the greatest damage on the orcs, tearing their ranks apart before charging again

.

This was the White Rose's greatest strength, and also the orcs' deepest wound.

The White Rose was now peaceful; the defending soldiers, atop the high towers, watched the sea of trees, ready to pounce at any moment.

Any clue, however slight, is investigated. Even at night, when visibility is poor, numerous nimble

scouts are sent out of the city to monitor everything in the forest.

The King of White Rose, Raiser, has strikingly golden hair that gleams in the sunlight. As the ruler of the city, he always

wears his silver armor. The armor is plain, yet incredibly thick, often making

a clicking sound with each step. He sits in his city hall, engrossed in reviewing documents. All is peaceful within the city.

However, in a corner of White Rose, a man sits in a dimly lit room, two women kneeling before him.

Their sensual lips lick his large genitals. All three are naked, and the two women are exceptionally

beautiful. Their pink tongues lick the man's penis, the two women reveling in

the heat . Finally, a white-haired woman, her red lips wide open, began to suck and swallow the man's large, purplish glans . Another black-haired woman crawled between the man's spread legs and began to suck on

his enormous scrotum . The room was filled with lewd sounds. The man thoroughly enjoyed the pleasure, but what he enjoyed even more was the blonde woman before him. She was beautiful, her wheat-colored skin adding a touch of wildness. Bound and with her legs spread wide, she was emitting melodious moans. The two women were stimulating her vagina and anus, their white fingers caressing her chocolate-like skin, while her two orifices were being stimulated by the women's thrusts. Gushes of vaginal fluid gushed out, and her beautiful eyes were filled with anger, but it was all in vain. Having already lost her virginity to the man, she felt the pleasure beneath her, yet tears involuntarily streamed down her face. Her name was Kaman, a knight. In the White Rose, which knightly order was the most powerful? Only the Black Armor Knights. She was a squad leader of the Black Armor Knights, yet she never imagined someone would imprison and humiliate her like this, even branding her buttocks with a slave emblem—an emblem reserved only for non-human races. Her beauty had attracted the attention of a man, the prince of the White Rose, though his reputation was always bad. Compared to his father, hailed as the son of war, this guy was a complete idiot. Yes, the Rose Prince 's reputation as an idiot was universally acknowledged. Everyone in the city knew it, and they wanted nothing more than to flush him down the toilet. As for Kaman, the Black Armor Knight, a revered figure within the White Rose, she was now suffering this torture. The alternating stimulation of two women's hands brought her intense pleasure mixed with an overwhelming sense of shame. Her beautiful body trembled slightly with pleasure, her voice filled with pleading, but it was all in vain. At some point, Kaman was bound and thrown into a cell. No one noticed the madness in her eyes . Three years was a very short time for the immortal races, but for humans and orcs, it was enough. Perhaps it is because life is so short that hatred is more easily passed down from generation to generation. White Rose is unusually complacent because, for the past three years, the orcs have not launched a single attack. The reason is simple: Cole became the Orc King. For three years, Cole repeatedly waged war against other orc tribes, staining their lands with blood. Finally, a year ago, he became the Orc King, the true king, and all orcs obeyed his commands. White Rose, free from war for three years, is now developing rapidly. However, although the weapons of the soldiers in the city are constantly being upgraded, their eyes seem to lack something compared to before. Tonight, dark clouds obscure the already dim crescent moon. The black-clad scouts crouch on the ground, the dense bushes providing excellent cover. Only their eyes are visible, fixed on the towering trees of the forest. They constantly monitor the forest, preventing any orcs from emerging. Deep within the forest, Cole chuckles silently. The scouts' corpses lay silently in the bushes, each agile and strong orc with a clear bloodlust in their eyes, yet their figures were silent, like ghosts. Few orcs emerged, but each carried a chilling killing intent. The two-man cavalry cleared the scouts away before issuing orders. Cole, clad in full armor, raised . The fully equipped orc legion, like a green tide, emerged from the sea of trees, each with eyes blazing with hysterical madness. However, the distant city-state remained oblivious. In the dead of night, in the city's inner sanctum, Leather stood by the window. Looking up, a black raven flew past and landed on his shoulder. Leather stared intently at the raven; his face was handsome, with a slight stubble, a tall stature, and silver armor. Leather gave the raven a deep look. The look of horror in his eyes deepened. Watching the crows fly away, Leiser's tall figure leaped out of the window, displaying the speed of a high-ranking warrior. As he charged, his battle aura shimmered, creating sonic booms. In the White Rose Plaza, a large blue bell hung there, but the dust on it indicated how long it had been since it had been rung. Leiser's armor gleamed faintly, and the deep, resonant tolling of the bell rang out . Instantly, the faint flames from the various White Rose military camps stained the sky red. Soldiers awoke from their slumber, quickly donned their armor, grabbed their weapons, and column after column of soldiers converged on the plaza. The crisp sound of iron boots striking the ground rang out. Some soldiers carried shields, some carried bows, and many more were swordsmen in armor, wielding longswords. From the mage tower, mages in various robes and carrying staves began casting spells of different types and marching towards the plaza. In less than half an hour, all the soldiers and mages in the city, except for those guarding the city, had gathered in the plaza , which was now packed with people, all watching the city from the high platform. "I just received news," Leather said in a deep voice. "A large number of orcs have gathered and left the Tree Sea. I don't know the exact number, but I can say at least two..."

"One hundred thousand."

Looking at the white rose banner flying high before him, Leather's voice was icy.

"At least two hundred thousand, the exact number could be ten times, twenty times. This is different from their previous

raids . Tonight is the night of war."

"We will face the orcs' onslaught head-on, for the orcs have a leader."

"Many of us will die, but the orcs will die too. Remember the White Rose's motto?" "

Backed by the Lan River, facing the sky. Never to die, never to fall." The soldiers' shouts echoed throughout the White Rose

city. The night wind was chilly, but the warriors' blood burned hot. The roar of one hundred thousand men rippled on the night breeze.

The entire city of White Rose shimmered with a cold light. The Lan River behind them surged on. The black-armored knights were the first to depart, heading

south . The sound of hooves shook the entire city.

On the city walls, warriors stood atop the ramparts, shields wielded

, with archers every ten meters and mages every fifty meters behind them. Swordsmen prepared stones and massive logs. On the towers, archers and

mages adjusted their weapons.

The city gates were tightly shut, and behind the heavy doors hung a white banner embroidered with a spiked

shield . Below the banner, rows of strong soldiers stood behind the gates, their

shields linked together by interlocking clips, forming walls of shields. Above these semi-sloping shield walls, sharp,

gleaming spears protruded, and behind them, archers stood poised to fire. Behind the gates was

a massive war chariot covered in spikes.

The White Rose, this war fortress, was fully activated. Iron nails were scattered across the plain before the walls

, the moat's mechanisms were activated, and the underwater roared as countless sharp spearheads filled the depths. On the city walls,

thanks to alchemy, javelins protruded, ready to

be launched with terrifying force at the command, becoming deadly weapons.

Alchemists produced arrows, which the archers on the walls caught and aimed at the open ground before them.

Arrows whistled as they pierced the ground, landing neatly in formation.

On the boundless plain before the walls, faint lights first appeared, then grew brighter, until

after ten minutes, that area emitted a soft glow, illuminating the distant plains. Leather stood atop the city tower, his

deep eyes fixed on the distant plains, fearing the arrival of the orc army. Yet, he also longed to see the orc army,

for the wait was unbearable.

The first great battle between the White Rose and the orcs was about to begin. Meanwhile, on the other side of the White Rose,

the son of the city was passionately riding a beautiful woman. The woman's moans were filled with satisfaction, while on the other side, the cries of

other .

Five beautiful women knelt on the ground, black collars around their necks, tied to pillars. Metal chastity belts clung to their

groins . Behind them, a naked woman lashed their snow-white

bodies with a leather whip, leaving distinct red welts.

The man thrust into the women, their moans and the feeling of fullness in their groins mingling with the

anal plug and the sloshing of fluids in their abdomens as they struggled to clench their anuses.

A slight throbbing pain in their groins, the large penis rubbing against their vaginal walls, stimulating the flow of fluids in their intestines

and the anal plug. The women desperately wanted to expel the plug, to release the slow flow of fluids from their anuses

. But they knew that doing so would bring excruciating punishment.

But sometimes, the body truly goes out of control. An overly tense woman spurted a

stream of water from her urethra, her mind went blank, the anal plug suddenly slipped off, and her slightly swollen abdomen, as if deflated, quickly

sank in, releasing a foul stench.

She was still enjoying the dual pleasure of orgasm and excretion when the man cursed.

The woman, just regaining her senses and before she could even kneel, was dragged to the other side of the room by two beautiful female slaves.

On that side, a thick iron rod, about the thickness of a fist, was mounted on the wall. The limp woman, upon touching the cold

iron rod , suddenly struggled violently, but to no avail. Her anus, still expelling fluid, was directly against

the tip of the iron rod.

"Ah…it hurts~" The woman's anus was still slightly open, but the iron rod was forcefully pushed into

her rectum. The woman tried to struggle, but a line of scarlet blood flowed down her thigh. The

uneven , as it was slowly pushed in, gradually stretched open her anus, inflicting even greater

pain. She cried out weakly, but dared not struggle, for the more she moved, the more it hurt. She could only helplessly and humiliatingly

accept the cold, thick iron rod. Two locks were attached to the rod. After the rod had gone in twenty centimeters,

the locks touched her long legs.

With a "click!", the two locks fastened to her thighs, and she was now completely fixed to the iron rod. The

cold iron rod asserted its presence in her anus, while the two women took out two rattan canes. With a gentle flick

of the rod, the thick iron rod began to rotate. The woman's screams became even more shrill. The patterns on the iron rod, as it

rotated, became an undeniable form of torture. The woman's cries, and the scarlet and

pale yellow , mingled on the ground. The two women's vines inflicted excruciating

pain on her snow-white body, yet she had to endure the agony, supporting her full breasts and thrusting her chest forward to receive the lashes.

The iron rod in her anus and the vines on her chest quickly caused her to faint, her entire body drooping limply. With

her thighs bound, she could only bend over, her long hair hanging to the ground… As dawn broke, the edge of the plain

suddenly seemed to rise higher. Seeing this

, Leiser's eyes widened slightly. Orcs! The entire plain was filled with orcs? Leiser couldn't believe his eyes.

Looking towards , all he saw were orcs? In the distance, the green plain seemed to rise higher, and only orcs…

Humans are the ones with green skin. Reiser's throat was dry. His right hand gripped the hilt of his sword. His mouth was parched, and he quickly pulled

over a scout.

"Quick, you… no, all of you scouts. Mount your warhorses and head south." Cold sweat beaded on Reiser's forehead

, his voice trembling slightly.

"Go south. Those nineteen city-states. Tell them to send men immediately. Tell them many orcs are attacking the city.

Yes, many orcs. If they don't send reinforcements, White Rose won't hold out. Remember, you must make them send troops."

The scout immediately understood the gravity of the situation, nodded, and went straight down from the city wall. On the city wall, Reiser

watched the black-clad scout's retreating figure. He couldn't help but shout again,

"You must make them send troops to support us!!!"

Reiser knew that his panic might demoralize the defending soldiers, but there was no other way

. If the orcs really reached the city walls, he and his soldiers would definitely lose their will to fight.

In the distance, orcs marched forward in neat rows, while Cole gazed at the White Rose, gleaming in the morning

light . The fire of hatred in his eyes burned ever brighter. In truth, all

the orcs felt the same way; the White Rose, this city-state, was a thorn in their hearts.

Cole's disheveled hair danced in the wind. He stared at the distant city, his eyes cold, and he

murmured to himself

, "No matter what, White Rose, we must pull out this blade." He silently added to himself,

"This blade is too close to the orcs' necks..."

Heavy footsteps echoed around Cole, reverberating across the plain. On the other side of the plain,

atop the White Rose's walls, soldiers gripped their weapons.

The orcs marched swiftly, the White Rose's walls appearing ever higher to them, but this did nothing to stop them. Their green faces were contorted with rage, their eyes bloodlust fixed on the shield wall formed

by the city walls .

A shield wall, gleaming with the aura of steel, blocked their view, but years of hatred

kept their eyes fixed on the proud figure atop the White Rose.

Reser's breathing grew heavy as he looked down at the orcs below the city. The orderly ranks of the troops,

though most possessed only a single weapon and lacked armor,

stretched endlessly for a thousand meters, making it impossible for Reser to count them all. He only

knew that the city was filled with orc warriors, his golden hair still gleaming. His gaze was fixed on

the crimson banner. Unlike the White Rose, where each legion carried a banner, the orcs carried only one.

Beneath that blood-red banner stood Cole in full armor. The two faced each other from a distance, yet both felt the other's

killing intent .

The orcs stopped a thousand meters away. In the sunlight, their weapons gleamed coldly

, their formations silent and menacing. Cole stood at the forefront of the army, his sword lightly resting

on the ground. His powerful voice rang out.

"Leiser City, do you think your White Rose can hold out against the orcish army?"

"I believe in the soldiers of White Rose!" Leiser replied, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

"The orcs have come out in full force, haven't they? In other words, if we wipe you out, the orcs will be at our mercy."

"That's only if you can hold out." Cole kicked his leg dismissively.

"White Rose, since you dare to stand here, you can certainly hold out."

"I hope you regret it before we raze this place to the ground." Cole's white teeth flashed,

revealing an unspeakable chill.

"Once the city falls, you know what will happen."

"White Rose, not a single tile will remain."

Leiser suppressed the anger and regret in his eyes, but his voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Cole, are you really going to be this ruthless?"

Hearing this, Cole gripped his sword. After a moment, he spoke.

"Is there any possibility of letting you go? Behind you, across the Lan River, lies the Southern Plains, the best

land. We can cultivate there, instead of raiding the south every year due to famine. But all of this

requires a bloodbath to stain this city red. More importantly, isn't the hatred between the orcs and the White Roses

deep enough?"

Cole raised his battle sword high, its sharp blade gleaming in the sunlight.

"You're right about coming here today. Behind me is all the orcs. Since we've come, there are only

two outcomes: the city falls and is slaughtered, or the orcs will be at your mercy from now on."

The madness in Cole's eyes mirrored the madness of the orcs behind him. All of this, along with Cole's roar, echoed through

the city .

"This is a gamble. If we win, the orcs will have the right to stay on the Southern Plains. If we lose, the orcs

can only say they did their best. They won't regret it either, because our charge was only for something better."

Leather stood on the city wall, listening to Cole's roar, a cold smile on his face.

"I don't care about your gambling. I only know that if it's hatred, then let's fight."

Cole looked up at the silver figure, at the tightly closed gates of White Rose City. His eyes were bloodshot,

filled with mockery, and his rugged face slowly darkened in the sunlight.

"Charge!"

Behind Cole, three ranks of soldiers slowly advanced, not quickly, but the heavy wooden

shields could withstand arrows falling from above. When the shields were linked together, they

formed a huge wooden bridge across the moat. They moved slowly, but with an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The archers drew their bows, aiming at the city below, awaiting Leather's command.

Leather looked at the orcs' orderly ranks and the shields raised high. The battle-hardened Leather began to give the order.

"Archers, aim lower! Ignore the orcs, aim at the moat!"

Meanwhile, the orc captain, seeing they were within range of the arrows, gave the order. All the orcs

scattered, shields in hand, and charged forward at breakneck speed. But why wasn't there the sound of arrows piercing the air? The orc captain

's poor brain capacity couldn't grasp this question; he continued charging forward, dumbfounded.

Reaching the moat, before the shields could even be joined together, a dense swarm of arrows rained down like locusts. The strong

bowstrings snapped crisply. Orcs without shields fell to the ground, arrows lodged in their bodies. But

many more orcs remained, holding their shields. The heavy, massive shields could easily protect two or three people;

one person could hold the shield while others joined them together, forming a wooden bridge.

From within the White Rose's tower, barely audible incantations echoed, followed by fireballs and wind blades

shooting from the tower's windows. The fireballs landed precisely on the shields, causing explosions and

igniting the wooden shields... Both Leather and Cole knew that the war had only just begun.

Night had fallen, and the city walls were brightly lit, but the battle continued. The archers' hands

trembled slightly, yet they still managed to aim at the orcs below. There were many orcs below, and any arrow could easily hit its mark

, but after a day of continuous drawing of their bows, the archers' arms were weak. The orcs were even more frenzied; green

corpses piled up at the foot of the walls, and the moat had turned red. But the most suffering were the shield

-bearers holding the city walls. During the day's fierce fighting and madness, the orcs had repeatedly scaled the walls, and the shield-bearers had faced the orcish charges head-on,

using their shields to encircle and trap them. After a day of intense fighting, even the steel shield towers were deformed. As for

the shield bearers, they braced themselves against the orcs' naturally strong physiques.

Each swing of the orcs' battle axes and heavy hammers carried immense force, and one shield bearer after another fell on the city walls, only to be immediately

replaced by another. Their spears were stained with blood, indistinguishable from sweat in their hands.

Even in the darkness, the orcs' frenzy remained unchanged. However, Reiser carefully considered

how many men had already fallen on his side. Nearly fifteen thousand shield bearers, but the orc corpses below the city were far more numerous than he could count.

The moat was completely useless, filled with orc bodies. The city gates were

somewhat , so the legion at the gate couldn't move.

The black-armored knights couldn't charge recklessly either. Although Reiser knew that the cavalry had waited along the Lan River for a

whole day, seeing the endless orcs in the darkness, the black-armored knights were completely unable to charge. Once they charged in,

they were completely exhausted, unable to move. The mages were utterly drained, and the alchemists were frantically repairing the soldiers

' weapons and armor in the darkness. One by one, the wounded were carried away, but the vast majority succumbed to their injuries.

Tears welled in Leiser's eyes, but he knew the city was groaning,

its blood seemingly bathing White Rose, turning it into a blood-stained city.

The pale moonlight shone on White Rose's city, and tiny fireflies flickered in the darkness like faint lamplight.

Leiser sat behind the city wall, his back against its cold surface, looking at the young swordsman standing beside him. He sighed.

"White Rose, built ninety-two years ago, faces the northern horizon, backed by the Lan River, and guarded by the Sea of Trees to the west, sealing off the orcs—

that is the meaning of this city. It has been here, fulfilling this duty for ninety-two years. I once thought it would

stand here for a thousand years, ten thousand years, the banner of White Rose forever fluttering in the wind. But I never imagined

it would crumble so quickly." Leiser's voice echoed between the city walls.

"I don't think I was wrong, but I'm sorry to you all. I'm afraid this city will perish with us."

The Lan River continued to proclaim its existence with the sound of flowing water, but the knights, silently mounted on their warhorses,

even in the dead of night, were watching the city's lights. They awaited the moment it would light up, and that would be

the time for their charge. An eerie silence hung in the air. They didn't know why the signal was delayed. They

rested here, maintaining peak condition, and then, on horseback, charged down the main road. Young men and women cheered along

the roadside , and the elderly rejoiced. When they returned in triumph, war songs would resound throughout the city

, accompanying the sound of their hooves in a three-day celebration. The city would stand atop a high platform, watching their

return.

"Which legion do you think is the best?" Leiser asked, taking a bite of his steamed bun.

"...The Thorn Shield Wall, or the First Archers," the boy's voice was slightly hoarse. The Thorn Shield Wall was

a legion of shield-bearers; only the strong and skilled could enter. Now, the Thorn Shield Wall

stood silently below the city walls, its steel shields gleaming coldly in the night. The archers of the First Archers,

meanwhile were resting unceremoniously on the city wall.

Leiser was surprised by this answer and couldn't help but ask.

"Don't you want to join the Black Armor Knights?"

"Black Armor? We all call them Black Dogs." The boy chuckled.

"They're strong, but they don't participate in the most costly siege battles. Instead, they pounce on the enemy like dogs

gnawing on a bone , reaping the biggest credit. What good is their fighting strength? Here, they're practically

useless. They just stay by the Lan River and run along the main road..."

Leiser fell into a strange silence. He hadn't imagined that the steel knights he had personally forged

would . If it were before, he would have laughed it off. They were knights, how could they defend a city? But now,

watching the soldiers moving back and forth on the city walls, carrying corpses one after another—the same soldiers

who stood full of vigor on the walls during the day, guarding the city—they were now cold corpses. Yet, those

shield bearers still standing on the walls, one shield bearer dying, another taking his shield, and so on, one by one,

they pushed the orcs off the walls. Arrows wounded the orcs, preventing them from climbing back up

, spears pierced, and in the flashing of swords, it was either themselves or the enemy who died. They were the true defenders of the city.

As for the black-armored knights, it seemed that was indeed the case; along the Lan River, just run along the main road... Inside

the room, the man, unusually dressed in crimson armor, held a short sword, swung it a few times,

and then threw it away. The beautiful women in the room remained expressionless on his handsome face.

"You may leave." The crimson armor was extremely tight, a heavy suit of armor, a cold helmet on his head, only

the mask hadn't fallen down.

"Prince, why?" one of the women asked.

Renault turned around, his tall figure exceptionally conspicuous in the room.

"Why? Because I am a prince. This city is mine."

With each footstep, Renault's figure receded into the distance. His crimson cloak billowed in the wind, and

a tower shield appeared in his hand. The shield was covered in sharp barbs; the normally heavy iron block felt

as light as a book in his hand. Behind him, a greatsword rested at his waist.

The dull sound of footsteps broke the silence of White Rose. The soldiers in the city stared in astonishment at the

man in red armor. Even though he looked exactly like him, they couldn't believe this was their prince.

Only , their eyes welling with tears as they watched him.

Renault walked up to his father, looking down at him. After a while, he sneered,

"You look quite rare."

Reiser looked at his son, his sneer as cold as ever, exuding a fierce

killing intent. He couldn't help but whisper,

"Excuse me, son, what you said makes me want to crush you under a woman's belly."

Renault curled his lip, looking at the pile of orc corpses below the city. Although horrified, he still gave Reiser

a word .

"Not bad with words, but if you think you can talk the other side out of here, I don't mind kicking you

down . Although it might dirty my feet."

On the city wall, Renault walked to the side, staring at the orc camp outside the city. Meanwhile,

a slight , a strange warmth welling up in his heart.

The night wind howled past, and dawn broke again in the blink of an eye. Reno, his strong body firmly planted on

the city wall, shield in hand, slammed green orcs off the wall with each blow. The high wall was enough to ensure they

would break their bones upon impact. The shield bearers on the flanks, as if inspired by Reno, held their ground with extraordinary tenacity.

On the city walls, the white rose banners fluttered in the wind, and the roars of warriors echoed across the towering walls.

Despite being exhausted from five days of continuous fighting, the soldiers managed to suppress the orcs surging down like a tide.

Below the high walls, the corpses of green orcs rotted and stank under the scorching sun, the pungent stench assaulting

both sides , but to no avail. The city gates had been breached, and Reiser, leading his shield-armored legion, was firmly

blocking them. Above was the battlefield, but below the city walls lay a scene of carnage. Spearmen mechanically wielded their

spears, facing a formidable shield wall of armored soldiers. This continuous shield wall confronted

the green torrent pouring from the city gates. The orcs thronged the gates, each wave of impact piercing through the massive steel

shields, the powerful force striking the shield-bearers' bodies, many drawing crimson blood from their mouths. Yet, they remained

behind the shields, using their bodies to brace them. The shields' bases were wedged into cracks in the stone bricks, their bodies pressed against the shields

. Even when the shields were deformed, they did not retreat an inch. As one shield was about to break, another intact

shield would be passed up, a perfect match, firmly protecting the spearmen and archers behind them.

Leiser had never imagined just how terrifying this legion, known as the Thorn Shield Wall, truly was.

This resilience, standing at the city gate, was like another, even more impregnable, city gate. The frenzied orcs charged

relentlessly , but wave after wave of force was blocked, even though their casualties were heavy. These

shield bearers, the most inconspicuous figures on the battlefield, were the most impregnable walls.

More and more enemies surged up the city walls. There was no way around it; the orcs' green

skin . One by one, shield bearers were dragged off the walls,

and gradually, the number of humans on the walls dwindled.

Renault's crimson armor was covered in wounds. He simply put down his shield, gripped his greatsword, and stood in the center

of the city walls , looking at the hatred in the eyes of each orc. The continuous fighting had left him exhausted. Panting heavily

, his face slightly pale, he looked at the orcs.

"Excuse me, where did you get your greenskins? Did your dad just play with leaves when he was bored? Or did your

mother masturbate with leaves? Ugh~ Holy crap, I'm just asking."

Enraged by Renault's verbal barrage, the orc's roar echoed throughout the city. Renault's sword danced, each

strike taking a life. But he was exhausted; the sword, usually so light, felt incredibly heavy.

He leaned against the flagpole. His tall figure slid down the flagpole, settling down beneath it, his back against

the pole to avoid collapsing. He dazedly looked up.

The sky was azure, the white flag stained with blood, the red so glaring. But at least

it was still flying. It reminded him of his childhood, when his father pointed at the flag and said,

"As long as the flag flies, the white rose will never fall."

Thinking of those words, Renault smiled bitterly.

"Haven't we still fallen?"

The flags fluttered in the wind, but the crimson figure leaned silently against the flagpole.

The despair in his eyes was undeniable, even in the face of death.

The orcs still wanted to charge forward. As they were hacking Renault's body to pieces, Cole's voice rang out.

"Enter the city."

The orcs descended from the city walls, soon leaving only Cole.

Cole looked at Renault's corpse, leaning against the flagpole, the sunlight gently falling on his cold armor.

Cole bent down, then raised his sword. He turned and left.

The flag, now free of its rope, slowly drifted down, draping over Renault and the steps of the city wall. Cole's voice echoed

softly

"True warriors deserve respect."

Reiser watched the green torrent descending from the city walls, two streams of tears sliding down his dust-covered face.

A roar filled with anguish erupted from his lips.

He had long considered this outcome, but facing it in person was still unbearably painful. The orcs

descending meant the deaths of his children. Seeing the orcs multiplying, Reiser hurled

a golden sphere, which exploded in mid-air, releasing a plume of crimson smoke.

Seeing this smoke, the knights on the distant banks of the Lan River, who had long endured, spurred their warhorses forward,

lances tucked under their arms, transforming into a steel torrent.

Below the city walls, Reiser frantically swung his longsword, his golden hair stained with blood, charging alone into

the orcs . Before him, the soldiers forming the shield wall drew their swords, hacking and slashing at

the orcs around them. Thus began a fierce battle. In close combat alone, the orcs' strong bodies gave them a natural advantage.

Although the soldiers were difficult to defeat, they could hold out for a while.

The black-armored knights moved quickly, the thunderous sound of their hooves echoing throughout White Rose, the ground trembling slightly

beneath . They charged directly towards the city gate along the straight road, but the silver

figure inside made them pause for a moment.

Leather's angry roar rang out.

"Charge!"

The lead knight took a deep breath. He raised his lance again, and a torrent of steel crashed straight

into the orcs. The powerful impact sent orcs flying, and the first rank of knights scattered to the side.

Then the second rank of knights raised their lances and charged fiercely into the orc horde... However, the city was ultimately too narrow,

and there were too many orcs. One knight after another fell, while the orcs outside swarmed in. The desperate knights relentlessly

hacked at the orcs, but to no avail. For every one they killed, a second or a third would appear.

Cole watched the silver-armored figure lying on the ground, sent flying by the force of the warhorse's charge. He couldn't help but sigh.

White Rose had finally fallen. Green orcs stormed into homes, slaughtering indiscriminately. By

nightfall , White Rose had become Blood Rose. Fortunately, the vast majority of White Rose's inhabitants had already migrated south.

Under the cover of night, White Rose was brightly lit, but only green orcs remained, frantically raping

the women . The screams of women echoed throughout the city.

At the city gate, the pale moonlight spilled onto the ground, accompanied by billowing black mist. A large black gate opened,

releasing a torrent of despair and death. As the black mist surged, the Lan River also rippled, fear and

death howling, heralding the beginning of the night.

After a long while, a tall warrior in silver armor emerged. His once-golden hair was now dull and

lifeless , his face gaunt, and his dark eyes burned with eerie blue flames. He let out

a defiant roar, and behind him, warhorses and black-armored knights emerged from the gate. Although

they wore armor and masks, their dark eye sockets and blue flames

were identical . More people continued to emerge from the black gate—spearmen, archers, swordsmen, mages, and

shield bearers wielding bone shields. Until the black gate closed, the silver figure

searched , removing the masks of knights one by one, but he still couldn't find the crimson figure.

"Roar!" the undead Leather roared in despair, staggering up the city wall.

Above the city walls, the bright moonlight made the already pristine white banner even more beautiful, yet Leather tossed aside

the banner he had cherished in life. Beneath the banner, in crimson armor, sat silently beside the flagpole,

the moonlight illuminating his pale face. His golden hair gleamed in the moonlight, but his blue eyes

were devoid of light.

Leather's withered hand gently stroked his cheek, the fire of his soul flickering in his eyes. Finally, he

gently laid him flat on the ground. He picked up the Rose Banner, stained with Renault's blood, and leaped from the city walls.

The resounding thunder of hooves echoed through the white roses, accompanied by the roars of the undead and the slicing of orcs' throats by

sharp blades The warhorses slew without a sound, but their hooves proclaimed their triumph. The knights charged

relentlessly, claiming the lives of orcs one by one. The wounds inflicted by the orcs

healed without a trace of blood, instead appearing as a flash of black mist. Leather, riding his warhorse, simply raised

a , its tip bearing the banner of a white rose fluttering in the night wind. His horse galloped on,

the banner of the white rose waving through the city's streets and alleys… The orcs fled in terror, while the undead warriors

pursued them, automatically arriving at the White Rose… The morning sun shone on the withered faces of the undead,

and in the wind, the scarlet banner rose against the sunlight.

From that time on, the White Rose never fell. Whenever the enemy attacked, a group of undead knights would charge along

the main road towards the city gates. They were immortal, indestructible, forever guarding the White Rose.

[To be continued]

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