Chapter 73
Do Not Give Up
Kovu's laughter echoed through the great hall, a thunderous crescendo that shook the very walls. His mirth infected a few other orcs, their guffaws joining his in a discordant chorus of mockery directed at Adom. "You dare use magic in this sacred place?" Kovu bellowed, his voice dripping with disdain, as if he did not attack first. "You offend our lord in his own abode? We will make you suffer, immortal."
The other orcs chimed in, hurling insults at Adom, their voices overlapping in a din of contempt.
Adom, however, remained calm, a smile slowly spreading across his face. His unexpected reaction brought the laughter to an abrupt halt, replaced by a simmering anger. "What's so funny, immortal?" a random orc growled.
Adom rose to his feet, a sigh escaping his lips. "Nothing much, really," he said, his tone nonchalant. "It's just that for big and strong warriors, you guys lack a good amount of brain."
Dojka's eyes widened in disbelief, her voice rising in a frantic shout, "What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!" She couldn't fathom the depths of his idiocy, defying orcs against whom he stood no chance.
But Adom ignored her, his gaze fixed on Lord Sarukel. "Orc Lord," he began, his voice steady and clear. "Since you're not unfamiliar with my kind, you must know there is only so much you could do to me before I eventually find a way to escape. And when I do, I will be preparing myself for a return."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I have eternity in front of me. I came here in peace, yet am treated this poorly. Do you think you will be able to outlast me? In 10,000 years, 20,000 years, I will still stand, as if nothing happened. Will your people be able to stop me then?" His gaze swept the room, taking in the shocked faces, the dawning realization of what they had provoked.
Adom's voice grew louder. "Did you not say an immortal put you in this situation? Yet, you insist on making an enemy out of me?" He shook his head, a mirthless smile on his lips. "I have to say, I will not be as lenient as the Lish King, no."
He turned, his gaze sweeping over the assembled orcs, their faces contorted with rage. "I will be far worse," he declared, his voice ringing through the hall. "I will be your end, the start of your fall. Your descendants will suffer, and none of them will live to tell the story!"
At Adom's words, a deafening silence descended upon the hall. The orcs stood in utter shock, their faces full of disbelief and growing anger. Dojka's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror at the unprecedented defiance. Kovu's lips thinned to a grim line, his glare darkening with each passing second.
The Orc Lord himself rose from his golden chair, his ancient eyes locked with Adom's. For the first time, he spoke, his voice a rumble of thunder, "Catch hi—"
But his words were cut short by a blinding flash of lightning, a searing bolt that split the air, spreading towards the Orc Lord with terrifying speed. Orcs screamed as the electricity found its mark, the smell of charred flesh filling the air. The Orc Lord stood unharmed, but only because Kovu had thrown himself in front of the spell, his arm raised to cancel the magical attack.
Kovu's face was a mask of shock and rage, the veins in his head bulging with barely contained fury. "AAAARGH!" he roared, the primal sound echoing off the walls. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
The orcs surged forward, a tidal wave of bristling muscle and bared teeth. But Adom was ready. He ducked under a swinging fist, his movements fluid and precise. One spell, and the ground beneath the orcs' feet turned to treacherous ice, sending them sprawling.
Adom danced among them, his spells a symphony of destruction. Fire and ice, lightning and shadow, he wielded the elements like a conductor, each gesture a command. An orc lunged, sword raised, only to be met with a wall of roaring flame that sent him reeling back, his skin blistering.
Another charged, axe held high, but Adom side-stepped, a flick of his wrist sending a bolt of crackling energy into the orc's chest, making him bend the knee in pain.
Kovu watched, his rage building with each failed attack. He charged, a behemoth of fury, his fists clenched. But to his surprise, the ground beneath Kovu's feet suddenly gave way, a sinkhole of churning earth that sought to swallow him whole.
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Kovu leapt clear, but the momentary distraction was all Adom needed. A blast of concentrated force caught Kovu in the chest, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening crunch.
Adom's heart raced as he ducked and dodged, the orcs' attacks relentless. He knew he couldn't win this fight, not against hundreds of orcs who outclassed him in strength. His wounds, though painful, were superficial compared to the damage he inflicted. But the orcs kept coming, their anger fueling their assault.
He noticed the orcs' weakness, a chink in their formidable armor. For all their strength, they were slow, their movements telegraphed. Adom's reflexes gave him the edge he needed.
An orc lunged, his sword a blur of steel. Adom twisted, the blade missing by a hairsbreadth. "Too slow," he taunted, his fist connecting with the orc's jaw in a sickening crunch. Yet, the orc did not lose consciousness.
Another came at him from the side, a massive warhammer whistling through the air. Adom dropped to the ground, the hammer passing over him. A flick of his wrist, and a blast of air sent the orc stumbling back.
"Surround him!" Kovu roared, his voice thick with pain and anger. The orcs moved to comply, trying to box the man in.
Adom's eyes darted to the door, his only hope of escape. But the orcs, sensing his intent, moved to block his path. They closed ranks, a wall of muscle and fury.
He couldn't go airborne, knowing they would pluck him from the sky like a bird in a net. He needed space, needed to get outside where he could maneuver.
He charged forward, his fists raised in a boxer's stance. An orc swung a massive fist, but Adom ducked, his own fist driving into the orc's gut. The orc grunted, doubling over, but another took his place, a snarl on his lips.
Adom weaved, his footwork precise, his fists a blur. He landed blows, each one carefully placed to cause maximum pain. But the orcs absorbed the hits, their thick hides and dense muscles protecting them.
An orc caught Adom with a glancing blow, sending him spinning. He tasted blood, felt the room tilt. But he shook it off, his focus narrowing to the door.
He surged forward, his shoulder slamming into an orc's chest. The orc stumbled, and Adom was past him, sprinting for the exit.
But the orcs were quick to react. They closed in, their hands grasping, their weapons slashing. Adom felt the sting of a blade, the crush of a fist. But he kept moving, kept fighting.
He was close now, the door just steps away. But an orc, larger than the rest, barred his way. Adom didn't hesitate. He leapt, his magic reinforced knee driving into the orc's face.
The orc fell, and Adom was through the door, the cool air a balm on his skin. But he knew the respite was temporary. The orcs were right behind him, their anger a palpable force.
Adom ran, his legs pumping, his lungs burning. He could hear the orcs' heavy footfalls, could feel their breath on his neck. If he couldn't escape, he would make sure they suffered for every step.
He spun, his hands already weaving a spell. The ground erupted, stone spikes bursting forth to impale the pursuing orcs. They howled in pain, but kept coming, their blood staining the earth.
Adom kept moving, kept fighting. He would not go down easily, would not let them take him without a fight. He would carve his defiance into their flesh, would make them pay for every wound, every insult so far.
Then, the world suddenly tilted, Adom's vision blurring at the edges. One moment he was fighting. The next, he was on the ground, his body a broken mess. Pain, hot and searing, lanced through him, and he saw with a detached sort of horror that some of his bones were protruding from his skin.
Through the haze of pain, he understood. Kovu stood over him, a colossus of rage and power. "I will kill you over and over until I am satisfied, immortal," he growled, each word a promise of agony.
Despite the excruciating pain, despite the certainty of his defeat, Adom chuckled. It was a broken sound, wet with blood. With a trembling hand, he reached out, his fingers closing around Kovu's foot. The orc didn't react, just watched with a sort of amused disdain as Adom used him as a crutch to haul himself upright.
Adom's body screamed in protest, every nerve aflame. But he stood, defiant to the end. "Take your best shot then," he spat, his words a challenge.
Kovu's eyes widened, a flash of surprise quickly replaced by rage. A beam of light, blinding in its intensity, erupted from Adom's hand, slamming into Kovu's stomach. The orc howled, the sound of pain and fury. "You little—AAAGH!"
The other orcs watched, their expressions a mix of shock and growing anger. Adom stood before them, his body a ruin, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every instinct screamed at him to fall, to let the darkness take him. But he fought it, clung to consciousness with a stubborn tenacity.
His senses were dulled, the world a haze of pain and muted sound. But he heard their growls, saw their eyes gleam with murderous intent. "Come at me then," he taunted, his voice a rasp.
Kovu emerged from the rubble, smoke billowing from his stomach, yet his body remained unscathed. His aura, thick and oppressive, flared to life, a physical manifestation of his rage. With a primal scream, he charged at Adom, intent on delivering the final, devastating blow.
Adom, his body held together by sheer force of will, painfully raised his hand, essentia coursing through his veins. He prepared to fire off another spell, a last, desperate act of defiance. But at the last moment, Kovu was violently thrown aside, his body flying through the air like a rag doll.
Through his one remaining eye, Adom saw Seka, the old orc, standing firm against the other orcs. And then, striding into the middle of the fray, came Aroth, his demeanor solemn and calm amidst the chaos.
The air grew thick with tension, the orcs frozen in place by Aroth's sudden appearance. Even the Orc Lord, standing at the castle door, seemed taken aback. The silence stretched, a palpable thing, until Aroth's voice shattered it like glass. His index finger stabbed towards Adom.
"I demand Gor'ashar Kargul!" he roared, his voice a thunderclap in the stillness. "And I shall be his champion!"