At last, Midnight grasped the full depth of the orichs’ multi-layered strategy. What had seemed to be fragmented, disorganised defences had unfolded into a meticulously orchestrated trap. Every element of the orks’ tactics had been designed to lead to this moment. The front group of warrior orks had served only as a diversion. Their role had been to exhaust the beast-wizard and weaken his companions, eventually forcing him to shift into a diminished form that robbed him of his wizard senses and rendered him unable to perceive their energies. For the same reason, they must have eliminated the voltera through physical combat; to assure that his formidable senses would not discern the orich’s hidden presence. Meanwhile, the ice orich’s early attacks had been deliberately ineffective, serving only to evoke false impressions of the attacker’s location and presenting a facade of limited reach. The golem, relying on logic and the perceived trajectory of attacks, had been coaxed into the very trap the second orich had laid.

It was a cowardly deception, like luring a beast into a cage by disguising the cage as the only escape, yet it was calculated and devastating in its execution. Midnight, for all her cunning, knew she could not have devised such a ruse herself. Considering that the second orich remained hidden and unharmed until the end, Midnight realised that this battle had always been their hunt, a ploy of patience and misdirection. The orichs had weaponised the very fabric of the mountain and exploited the vulnerabilities of their enemies with chilling precision.

Despite their victory, both orichs were visibly weary. The frosthearts embedded in their staffs lay depleted. Even the frosthearts woven into the boulder were noticeably dimming, their energy steadily draining to sustain the intricate seal.

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