CHAPTER 171: THE OBSIDIAN PARADE

The grand courtyard of the Obsidian Citadel had been transformed into an endless sea of dark iron, black chitin, and ready steel. A chilling wind swept down from the jagged peaks, carrying the scent of pine, ozone, and impending bloodshed.

Caius stood atop the highest central terrace, his dark mantle billowing behind him like a storm cloud. Beside him stood Old Bones, his arms crossed, watching the massive army below take form with absolute precision.

Caius had completely restructured the Citadel’s war machine, forging its scattered warbands into unified, disciplined legions.

Down on the lower staging grounds, the Quick Reaction Legion stood in stark, terrifying contrast to the rest of the host. Two thousand elite warriors, consisting of the dark elf Shadowblades of the outer clans joined by the towering barbarian berserkers of the northern steppes, formed their own separate, supreme vanguard. Clad in their newly fitted Obsidian Chitin Scale Armor, they stood like silent, jet-black phantoms, their light dragon-scale plating reflecting no light from the rising sun.

Behind them lay the main striking power of the Citadel: The Combined Orc Legions, thirteen thousand strong, hardened by months of relentless drilling and obsidian refinement.

The First Orc Legion (8,000 Heavy Infantry) held the absolute center, functioning as a towering wall of obsidian plate armor, tower shields, and heavy war-axes designed to crush any frontal charge.

The Second Orc Legion (5,000 Warriors) was split into twin wings to flank the left and right sides of the main line. Positioned in textbook vanguard formation, the wings featured agile Orc Warg Riders on the far edges to sweep around enemy lines, while armored Orc Archers and chanting Orc Shamans held the rear ranks, their staves humming with dark elemental magic.

The Vanguard Mass (30,000 Orc Fodders) stood before the main fortress gates, forming a massive, roaring tide of newly recruited, bloodthirsty greenskins itching to throw themselves into the slaughter.

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Forty-five thousand warriors in total, bound together under a single banner.

As the sun crested the eastern ridges, illuminating High Lord Lorien’s golden host marching into the mouth of the valley, Caius stepped forward to the stone edge of the terrace. He raised his hand, channeling his Obsidian Crown and Black Core. A wave of suffocating, violet-black aura erupted from his body, soaring high into the clouds and darkening the entire sky above the valley.

The roaring thirty thousand fodder fell into dead silence. The thirteen thousand orc legionnaires slammed their spears onto the granite floor in unison. The two thousand obsidian-scaled elites drew their blades without a whisper.

Caius’s voice echoed across the valley, amplified by dark magic so clearly that even the forward scouts of the Solarian army trembled at the sound.

"Look upon the valley, warriors of the Citadel!" Caius boomed, his violet eyes burning with absolute, terrifying sovereignty. "The High Elves come in their gold and silver, believing they march to purge a human warlord. They believe their light is absolute. They believe we are nothing more than rats in the dark!"

A low, guttural growl rose from the orc ranks, a tide of anger swelling through the legions.

"They do not know that the ground they walk upon is ours!" Caius continued, his voice ringing like a war bell across the mountain peaks. "Today, we do not fight merely to defend these walls. Today, we shatter the arrogance of Mount Eldoria! This day will be written in the blood of kings and remembered for a thousand years, marking the day that defeated the combined army of humans and High Elves!"

Caius drew his sword, pointing the dark blade straight toward Lorien’s glittering vanguard.

"We are the shadow that swallows the sun!" Caius bellowed. "We are the Obsidian Legions!"

"FOR THE SOVEREIGN! FOR THE OBSIDIAN LEGIONS!"

A thunderous, deafening roar erupted from forty-five thousand throats. Drums rolled like thunder, wargs howled into the cold air, and thirty thousand orc fodders began pouring through the Citadel’s outer gates into the valley like a black tide, followed in flawless formation by the heavy steel center and flanking wings.

High Lord Lorien halted his horse at the valley's edge, his golden eyes widening in sudden, utter shock as the sky turned to ash and the hills began to shake beneath the tread of an empire.