Chapter 65
Them Or Us
[ Speed: 20 (+10) ]
[ Agility: 15 (+5) ]
Adom's eyes narrowed on the updated figures of his speed and agility displayed on his status window, the numbers reflecting his newfound swiftness thanks to Fili's enchanted boots. He thought, This will escalate. I must end it swiftly; she's still vulnerable, and these boots give me the edge in speed.
Nearby, Valiant's grumbling words, "She’s ignoring me, she's freaking ignoring me..." filled the tense air.
Keeping his eyes on Zara, Adom's expression was calm yet penetrating as he inquired, "What are you insinuating exactly, Zara?" Simultaneously, his mind was already weaving the intricate patterns of a binding spell, the ground beneath subtly shifted, it went unnoticed by Zara who focused on Adom. His strategy was clear: immobilize Zara using the earth itself, creating tendrils of dirt and stone to ensnare her, providing him the opportunity to approach and neutralize the threat without causing lasting harm.
Adom preferred to avoid conflict, especially with Zara, knowing well that antagonizing one adventurer could set him against many. His mind raced through possible outcomes, calculating the risk of each move. "Again. You should listen to him," Adom pressed gently, yet firmly. "There is no need for conflict. We could all go our separate ways and forget about each other."
The air hung heavy with the charged energy of imminent conflict as Zara, her hands aglow with the burgeoning power of a spell, spoke again. Adom observed the manifesting magic, recognizing her point of no return. He readied the final stages of his binding spell, prepared to act in the blink of an eye.
However, Zara’s words pierced through his thoughts, revealing a connection that transcended their immediate confrontation. She spoke of white masks and black robes, details that resonated with Adom's memory of a survivor's account from the Katian incident.
Adom's mind, initially focused on subduing Zara, shifted gears. The description matched too closely to the accounts of the attack that devastated Kati, where his own past was marred by tragedy. The notion that an immortal was involved began to crystallize, painting a grim picture of events manipulated by beings of immense power and obscure motives.
Zara's ability to associate the aura of that fateful day with both Adom and Mephistopheles hinted at a distinct aura immortals exuded, an aura discernible to those sensitive enough to perceive it. Adom pondered the implications, realizing that this revelation placed a significant piece in the puzzle of his past.
Why would an immortal instigate such chaos in Kati? Was it perhaps Eldrin, the scholar known for his profound yet often inscrutable motives, or Bjorn, whose existence was hard to ignore? Or was there another, hidden player among the immortals, whose agenda was yet to be unveiled?
Adom's internal turmoil was abruptly shattered by Zara's probing words, her tone laced with suspicion and the imminent release of her spell. "Looks like you know something, eh?" she challenged, her hands radiating the pent-up energy of her magic.
But it was too late for her, Adom had already completed his spell preparations. Activating his [Aetheric Echo] and [Quick Reflexes], he honed his senses to their peak, ready to detect and counter Zara's assault with precise, swift movements. Yet, the unfolding situation took an unexpected turn, derailing his focus from the duel at hand.
As he attuned his heightened senses to the surroundings, a new threat emerged from the shadows of the forest. Orcs. Ka'ui orcs, to be precise. Adom's eyes widened slightly as he counted, not one, not ten, but forty of these formidable beings encircling them. A quick scan revealed their levels, all towering above 30, a formidable force by any standard.
Great, just when there is a dead Behemoth, a bunch of trigger-happy ganker corpses and a field that looks like it hosted a battle royale for trees, of course we'd get a brigade of Ka'ui orcs to join the party. Because, why not? Nothing says ‘perfect timing’ like orcish gatecrashers ready to pin the chaos on the nearest scapegoat. Adom mused internally, his sarcasm a thin veil over the rising tension.
Valiant's desperate plea, "Zara, Rey, listen to me," sliced through the tension, but it was the subtle snap of a twig under an orc's heavy foot that heightened the urgency. Valiant’s realization, "We're not alone," echoed Adom’s own awareness. Zara, however, remained singularly focused, oblivious to the encroaching danger, her spellcasting intent unbroken.
Adom exhaled a loud sigh, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon him. Recognizing the impracticality of their skirmish in the face of a larger threat, he swiftly activated the binding spell he had prepared. The earth responded to his command, tendrils of soil and stone rising to encircle Zara, breaking her concentration and immobilizing her. In an instant, he was before her, her expression a tumultuous mix of fury and confusion.
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"Listen, now's not the time for a fight," Adom urged, his voice carrying both authority and a plea for reason. As he spoke, his hands reached for Zara's temples, fingers gently pressing specific points as he channeled his magic into a methodical, nuanced spell designed to induce sleep.
He invoked a delicate and complex spell, manipulating the Essentia to target Zara's endocrine system. Adom's knowledge of biology and magic fused, guiding his actions as he stimulated the release of melatonin, the hormone responsible for sleep regulation. His spell acted at the molecular level, gently coaxing her pineal gland to increase melatonin production, while simultaneously dampening the activity of neurotransmitters like adrenaline and cortisol, which promote wakefulness and alertness.
The spell's design was akin to a symphony, each note played with precision to harmonize with Zara's biological rhythms. Adom carefully moderated the flow of Essentia, ensuring it mimicked the natural surge of sleep-inducing hormones, thus steering Zara towards a state of deep sleep. This nuanced approach ensured the sleep was natural, preventing any jarring or harmful effects on her mind and body.
As the spell took effect, Zara's enraged and bewildered gaze softened, her eyes fluttering shut as the induced hormonal cascade gently lulled her into slumber.
Valiant's exasperated outburst, "What the fuck, dude?!" reverberated through the tense night air, his small hand grasping the hilt of his sword, ready for a confrontation. Adom turned to him with a calm demeanor, his voice steady, "I did not kill her; she's just asleep. You noticed, we're not alone. Orcs are encircling us."
Valiant, his sword half-unsheathed, paused, processing Adom's words with a blend of skepticism and emerging understanding. "Okay, what's your plan?" he asked. This adaptability impressed Adom, acknowledging the mouse's ability to swiftly adjust to the rapidly changing dynamics.
"There are too many of them, each too strong," Adom said, "We have no other choice but to surrender." He admitted.
Valiant, puzzled and concerned, countered, "But... if they came out this far out of the forest, aren't we, like... fucked?"
Adom responded, "I don't think we'd be to the orcs' tastes, Valiant."
But before Valiant could elaborate on his actual concern, "No, that's not what I—", he was cut short as Adom smiled reassuringly, acknowledging the deeper implications of Valiant's concern.
"I know what you meant, Valiant," Adom said, turning his attention to the encircling orcs. He scanned the group, his eyes settling on one who stood out, an orc with a notably higher level than the rest. Adom stepped forward, his voice carrying across the distance as he called out, "Ghratak!"
The invocation of "Ghratak" by Adom was a gamble, tapping into the deep-seated cultural memory of the Ka'ui orcs and their ancestral ties with the Salamander lineage. This word, laden with the weight of unity and aid, was meant to signal a plea for protection and camaraderie, reflecting Adom's original plan to seek refuge and alliance with the orcs at the Laughing Peaks.
The air hung tense in the aftermath of his shout, a pregnant silence enveloping the scene, punctuated only by Valiant's bewildered query, "What did you say to them?" Then the murmurs and grunts among the orcs suggested a flurry of communication, their tones conveying a mix of surprise and caution.
Valiant, half-joking, half-anxious, quipped, "You didn't insult their moms, did you? They don't sound too happy here."
Adom, maintaining a vigilant posture, responded, "Well, I hope I just pronounced it right."
As the branches rustled, revealing the slowly emerging forms of the Ka'ui orcs, the night was pierced by the ominous glow of many pairs of red eyes. The sight was formidable, the forest's shadowy veil parting to unveil the encroaching orc warriors.
Valiant, protective instincts kicking in, moved closer to the sleeping Zara, his voice tinged with resignation and wariness, "Oh boy, we're so, so fucked."
As the orcs emerged from the shadows of the forest, their formidable presence was palpable. Towering well over 2 meters, each orc was armed and wore an expression of discontent, their bodies tensed and ready for combat.
The figure that Adom had singled out, the one with the awe-inspiring level of 503, made his entrance last. His appearance was commanding, with tusks adorned with golden rings that gleamed in the dim light, asserting his status and prowess.
His long dark hair flowed behind him, moving with a semblance of independence. Standing a whole head taller than his companions, he exuded an aura of unassailable authority and raw power. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned the surroundings.
This orc, with his imposing stature and intense gaze, inspired respect and an undercurrent of fear, the kind that whispered warnings to be exceedingly cautious in his presence. He was not just any orc; he was destined to be a figure of legend, a leader whose very being commanded attention and elicited awe.
Adom recognized him instantly, from his memories, albeit without the scar over his left eye he would acquire later. This was Aroth, known among friends and foes alike as the Dragonbane.
Aroth surveyed the scene meticulously, his gaze cutting through the night's obscurity to assess every nuance of the clearing. His eyes, sharp as flint, lingered on the prone figure of Zara, then shifted to Valiant, who stood resolute yet visibly tensed under the orc leader's formidable scrutiny. Finally, Aroth's gaze met Adom's, who returned it with a calm smile.
"Human," Aroth began, his voice deep and resonant, "who taught you about the word you just spoke?" His inquiry was direct, seeking not just an answer but an understanding of Adom's intentions and connections.
Adom, maintaining his composure under Aroth's intense scrutiny, responded, "An old man who spent his life here, he told me about your culture, as well as how to reach out to you."
Aroth grunted, "Hmm," then probed further, hinting at the recent disturbances, "And is this how he taught you to have our attention?" The underlying accusation was clear, referencing the chaos and destruction that had recently transpired in the territory sacred to the Ka'ui orcs.
Adom, understanding the gravity of the implication, replied earnestly, "No. We did not kill the behemoth, nor did we provoke it." He paused, ensuring clarity and sincerity were evident in his voice before continuing, "As for the corpses of the Naga and the other 'outsider,'" referring to the gankers they had encountered, "we had no other choice. It was either them, or us."