The horde of orcs and gnolls loomed before Asael, a wall of twisted flesh and snarling maws.

Their yellowed fangs gleamed under the sickly moonlight, weapons slick with the blood of those who had already fallen.

The stench of iron, sweat, and death choked the air, thick and suffocating.

Asael’s fingers clenched tighter around his sword hilt, his knuckles drained of color.

His breath remained steady, but his heart pounded like war drums, each beat a reminder of the chaos before him.

A massive orc at the front let out a guttural roar, its muscles rippling as it raised a brutal, rusted axe.

The air whistled as the blade tore downward, aiming to cleave Asael in two.

Dodge.

He dropped low in an instant, feeling the wind from the axe kiss the top of his head.

Dirt and embers kicked up around him, stinging his eyes as the weapon crashed into the ground, splitting the earth beneath it.

Without hesitation, Asael surged forward.

His sword found flesh, plunging deep into an orc’s thick, meaty thigh.

The beast howled, its blood spurting in hot waves.

Using the embedded sword as leverage, Asael twisted midair, his body a blur of motion.

His heel connected with the snarling face of a gnoll, a sickening crack ringing out as its jaw shattered.

The creature reeled backward, howling in agony.

His feet barely touched the ground before he ripped his sword free from the orc’s leg, the blade already streaking toward his next target.

Steel met flesh.

His sword pierced the chest of another orc, sliding between ribs and sinking deep.

Warm blood sprayed across his face, its coppery tang filling his nostrils.

The orc’s eyes bulged, its lips curling in a silent gasp before its body went limp.

No time to breathe.

Rough, calloused hands clamped around his torso, the crushing force of the orc’s grip threatening to crack his ribs.

Pain flared, sharp and suffocating, but Asael refused to let it root him in place.

With a grunt, he drove his sword backward, its tip carving into the orc’s thick wrist.

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The creature howled in agony, its fingers loosening just enough—

He wrenched free, barely dodging as another axe came hurtling toward his skull.

Too fast.

Asael twisted, feeling the cold steel graze his cheek.

He had no time to react before the axe buried itself deep into the head of the wounded orc behind him.

The body shuddered once before collapsing, lifeless.

A snarl tore through the air.

A gnoll lunged, its sword slashing toward him in a blur of silver and moonlight.

His arms moved on instinct, his blade rising just in time.

Steel met steel. Sparks erupted between them, bright against the darkness.

Then—

A club, massive and brutal, slammed into his ribs.

The force sent him hurtling through the air, his body twisting before he hit the ground with a bone-jarring impact.

The taste of blood flooded his mouth, thick and metallic.

His vision blurred for half a second, stars exploding in his periphery.

Laughter.

The orcs and gnolls cackled, their beady eyes alight with mockery and bloodlust.

They did not rush him this time.

No.

They wanted to watch him struggle.

Asael pressed his hands into the dirt, pushing himself up.

His body screamed in protest, but a golden light flickered across his skin, warmth spreading through his limbs.

The pain dulled as his divine power surged, wounds knitting closed with each breath.

He exhaled.

The monsters did not charge.

They had learned.

This time, they moved in slow, calculated steps, their circle tightening around him like a noose.

Their claws twitched, their weapons gleamed, but they did not strike.

They were toying with him.

Predators closing in on their prey.

Asael lifted his gaze, his bloodied lips curling into a snarl.

Prey?

No.

He was the hunter.

---

The thunderous steps of orcs shook the earth as they charged from all sides, their axes raised high, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the kill.

Asael met them head-on, his sword flashing like a streak of golden fire.

The first orc’s blade came crashing down, its weight enough to split a man in two.

He twisted, catching the strike on the flat of his sword, the force rattling through his bones.

With a sharp pivot, he drove his blade deep into the beast’s chest.

Hot blood erupted, spraying across his face, its warmth stark against the cool night air.

The orc’s roar turned into a gurgle as it slumped forward, but before he could pull his sword free—

A burning sting.

Pain lanced through his shoulder as a gnoll’s blade tore through flesh.

The scent of his own blood mixed with the iron-laced air.

The divine light within him flared, sealing the wound just enough to keep him standing.

It wasn’t enough.

Gritting his teeth, he turned, grabbing the gnoll by the throat before it could retreat.

The creature’s eyes bulged, clawed hands grasping at his arm in a desperate bid for freedom. It was too late.

With a swift motion, Asael’s sword slid across its neck. Blood spilled in a hot, pulsing spray.

The gnoll choked, gurgling on its own breath before collapsing lifelessly at his feet.

No time to recover.

A roar, a blur of motion—an orc’s massive club swung wildly, smashing into his wrist.

His sword flew from his grasp, spinning through the air before clattering against the blood-soaked dirt.

He lunged for it, fingers stretching—

Axes crashed down.

He rolled, feeling the whoosh of steel just inches from his skull.

One of the orc’s axes lodged deep into the ground, its owner snarling as it struggled to yank it free.

Asael didn’t hesitate.

With a sharp kick, he sent the weapon’s handle upward, ripping it from the orc’s grip.

The axe spun into his own hands, the cold metal familiar, heavy.

The orcs sneered, circling him like starving beasts.

He charged.

The axe swung wide, the edge biting through armor, through flesh—

An orc’s torso split open, intestines spilling onto the ground in steaming coils.

A gnoll lunged at him from the side, blade flashing.

He pivoted, burying the axe deep into its ribs.

Bones cracked, the creature let out a choked yelp before crumpling to the ground, twitching.

Then—

A sword ran him through.

White-hot pain exploded in his chest.

He gasped, the taste of blood flooding his mouth, warm and coppery.

The gnoll that impaled him grinned, watching with savage delight as Asael staggered.

The blade remained buried in his flesh, sending fiery agony through his every breath.

His divine power flickered, struggling to mend the wound, but the damage was too great.

His vision swam.

But he refused to fall.

With a raw, guttural growl, he grabbed the gnoll’s sword—ripped it free from his own chest—and in the same breath, drove it straight into the gnoll’s throat.

The creature gurgled, clawing uselessly at its ruined neck before its body went limp.

More pain.

A club smashed into his ribs.

He barely had time to flinch before another sword carved a deep gash across his leg.

His knee buckled, but he forced himself to stay upright.

Then a blade tore into his back.

Agony flared like wildfire.

His golden aura flickered, dimming like a dying ember.

The orcs and gnolls laughed, their snarls filled with cruelty, their steps slow and deliberate as they circled closer.

Blood dripped endlessly, pooling beneath him.

His breaths were ragged, each one more difficult than the last.

His muscles trembled from exhaustion, from blood loss.

His friends stood frozen in horror, their faces pale as they watched him—

Drenched in crimson.

Breath shuddering.

Barely standing.

And yet—

His fingers tightened around the axe.

His body screamed for rest.

His wounds burned, tearing him apart.

But surrender was never an option.

Not now. Not ever.