“Ahahahahah!”
A clatter of laughter broke the tense staredown between orcs and humans, “Nice, I guess we should be careful around that shithead.” Maria spoke.
Our lighthearted banter bristled the orcs' fragile ego. The squad blitzed through the arena, each step rocking the ground beneath, their thumps reaching our feet. The first strike, however, didn’t come from them. It was me, with one of my death bolts.
My bolt shrieked, earning the dazed look from the spectator as it blasted the shield of one of those orcs, halting its assault. No meaningful strike was intended from it, yet, it gave us enough space to deal with the others fast approaching.
The archers didn’t idle behind. They fired both arrows—each the size of half our body in length, ripping the air around them. One of them reached me, and as I raised my shield in defense, it smashed onto me, pushing me back and lifting me off my feet for a moment.
“Ghhh…” The impact was heavy, its size tightened the tension in my heart. My shield arm absorbed the full impact of the arrow, enough for it to tremble, but my bones weren’t broken. The other arrow was cut in half by Phillip, whose accuracy with his swing, along with his massive weapon, felt skillful.
But I didn’t have the time to be in awe. The orc with the spear reached us first, his massive figure shadowed mine as he jabbed with both of its arms. Alarm bells rang; I pushed my shield at an angle, hoping I’d alter its stroke instead of meeting head-on. An unimaginable force pushed me aside as it ran along my shield’s curvature. Sparks of friction twinkled.
“HRAAAH!” With all my strength, I nudged its spear sideways, then greeted its face with my staff. My green reflected its green skin. My death bolt struck point-blank.
Its head recoiled from my spell’s impact, but that wasn’t all; Maria and Sarah were ready to support us, and they each let loose their projectiles. Maria’s smaller arrow landed first, dealing critical damage as it punctured the orc’s neck, followed by a blast of cold chill, which wasn’t aimed at the same spot where Maria shot, no, Sarah fired her spell at its feet.
The orc wailed, a mixture of pain and panic. None of our attacks landed fatal damage, but it pushed it toward a severe disadvantage.
I primed another spell. The smoke from my spell now had dissipated, revealing the orc’s desperate struggle for breath. It clawed at Maria’s arrow, lodged deep inside its esophagus, blocking its airways. I knew where to aim next, I just had to-
“Watch out!”
Another shield slammed onto mine. It came from the first orc that I fire at, its shield burned, its eyes teary. Its momentous strength lifted me off the ground, even when I blocked it in time.
The sudden attack continued. It gripped its club tight, and with a roar, severed the air between us. I caught its club with my shield, but my strength and my steel came short; it overpowered both, smashing me toward the ground. An impression of my back was stamped on the dirt where it lay.
Crack!
“GAHHH!” The sound of my back cracking alarmed me, but my situation called for all my attention. At this moment, there was nothing else that I could do but drink a potion and hope for the best.
The orc raised its club, snorts of hot breath erupted past its nostrils, its gaze enchanted with battle lust. Taking no chances, I blasted its head with another bolt. Then Phillip’s axe came into view, zipped past the space over my shield, cleaving its open abdomen. His might pulled the orc along his arc, followed by a cascade of arrows and ice bolts.
“GET UP!” Phillip shouted, urgency evident from his roar, “Another-“
Pang.
Metal struck ice, an arrow bounced off his right shoulder. “Shit.”
A fresh pop of red liquid refreshed my innards. Teeth rattled as I pushed off the ground, my feet shaky, and my arms weak. Yet, with the brunt of the assault wasted on me, my allies were free to do as they please. The orcs, however, suffered greatly. The wounds accrued on the orcs had tolled their bodies; their eyes drooping, their jaws loose.
The fight begged to continue. Both were sides eager to finish what we started. Once I regained proper function of my legs, I observed the battlefield, keen to find their weakest link.
One of them—the orc with the spear—limped to reach its mates. Arrows rained, paired with the cheers of the crowd. Yet, their loudness failed to mask my next sentence.
My glare switched to the girls who were busy dodging and deflecting the arrows, “The spearman! Kill it! Throw everything you got!”
“No need to say it!”, I watched the air vibrate with magical bolts and arrow fire, all aimed toward the limping target. It was quite the sight to see; Green and blue, a mix of verdant leaves and the azure sea, scalding and freezing its skin. We heard the orc’s plea for help—of mercy. None registered in my ears.
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Its cries halted into abrupt silence. Its green skin mixed with violet, then snowed by white ice. One dead.
However, death did little to hamper their spirit. Phillip repelled the shielded orc when he aided me, leaving 3 healthy orcs and one without its primary method of defense.
“Four too many.” Delirium muddled my rationale, and I mumbled my thoughts. “What do we do… The archers, we need to…”
The archers couldn’t break past the ice armor. Despite that, they were fatal against the rest of us; any stray arrows struck true would turn the tides around. Disarming those would lax the tense battlefield, and we’d have space to maneuver around in.
Also… The corpse.
The Orc spearman lay a few dozen steps away. My book’s reach was at most, one meter away from me. To absorb its soul now would spell everyone’s doom, and that was without considering the lengthy process.
I looked back to check the status of our group, and what I saw was… discouraging, to put it lightly.
Sarah took out a blue bottle—the mana potion, and chugged it. A trickle of sweat dripped down her cheek as her gaze intensified; another one of her bolts was on its way. Maria wasn’t faring better, her arrows proved effective when they hit, but from her slouched gait, and the light trembling on her arms when she pull her string…
Phillip was… well, Phillip. Guy’s insane.
I charged a bolt, then searched for Maria’s eyes. The moment our eyes met-
“MARIA!” I fired my bolt. The orc flinched, placing its club between its body and my spell, and they clashed. The blast flung its weapon away, creating a small opening—too small for someone like Phillip to abuse—but big enough for Maria, whose arrow zipped past my right eye, torpedoed through the dark smoke, and landed somewhere on its face.
The momentum swung. Phillip gritted his teeth and led the charge. His howl silenced the crowd, trailing the red tint on his eyes. The other shielded orc braced as Phillip snapped into its sights, in the middle of his swinging motion. 2 bolts of heavy arrow bounced off his ice armor while he began his rampage, dissipating when the armor lost its durability. And yet, the smile on his lips…
He’s reveling in the slaughter. I felt a surge of madness seeping out of his pores every once in a while, tickling the surface of my skin.
As the archers drew their next arrow, I launched both spells that I’d primed beforehand straight at them. Those wouldn’t do substantial damage, I know, I just needed to buy time.
Phillip’s axe crushed the shield. Wooden splinters were splattered about like sparks, flickers of flame blazed dimly as he tore its defenses apart. Aghast, the orc paled, any traces of retaliation were long gone.
Next swing, Phillip cleaved its neck apart. Two dead.
Sarah fired her ice bolts at the orc I’d injured. Our combination of attacks flashed and burned, punctured and chilled, and the next orc fell within minutes. The victory was within our grasp, yes, but I expected that this was just a warm-up for the meat of the show.
Without their defenses, the archers ran. Granted, individually, we stood no chance against them on their own, but together, our strength prevailed. Well, I said that and yet, the kill took us another few grueling minutes.
Once the fight was over, the drums and horns stopped, silence filling the arena once again. We collected ourselves in the center, subjected to the chief’s quiet glare, but I had more important things to do.
The clock ticked, and the next round—whatever it was, could begin any second. I galloped to the closest orc that I could find and absorbed the shit out of it. My eyes darted back and forth, flicking between the chief and the crowds, afraid that desecration of the dead was a no-no on their list, yet their blank stares eased my worries.
Soul of The Orc warrior - poor
Rarity: Common | Rank: - | Level : 6
Attributes gained : 2 speed, 3 strength, 2 toughness, 2 vitality.
Does not have any skill.
[2/5 slots available.]
I had to say, it having no skill was well within my expectations, but I was disappointed nonetheless. The stats were good, though; I could use all of these, even if the changes wouldn’t be at all significant.
There were 5 corpses strewn about in different directions. I finished filling my slots up with the orcs before the chief began howling, thumping its chest in a beat. The crowd shuddered, stomping their feet against the wooden arena, cheering along.
“Here it comes,” Maria said as she sat on the ground, recovering as much of her stamina as she could. “You got what you want? The souls?”
“Yep…” I replied, holding the compendium in my right hand. “It’s full.”
“The archers… my armor is effective.” Sarah said, her sentence fragmented, “However, I don’t think our bolts will do anything against the chief… What do we do?”
“I believe-” I directed my finger at Phillip’s bloodied axe after the color of his eyes returned, “Only this guy will damage the chief. Support him with all that we have; the ice armor, arrows, spells, whatever, and-”
“I have one other spell in my arsenal.” Sarah said, her eyes focused on the chief in front of us, “it costs all of my mana and almost all of my health to use, so I preferred to keep it as a last resort.”
My eyes shot up. “What is it?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. But it will hurt the chief. I guarantee.” She remarked, continuing her explanation, “But it is slow, So you need to pin it down; don’t let it escape.”
Pin the chief down? That is… well, I think it’s even more difficult than killing it, to be honest.
But her confidence instilled the same feeling in my heart. Not a single one of us thought that we could hurt it reliably, and to see that out of her…
She’s the top two for a reason.
“I’m down for whatever she planned to do,” Maria said, getting up from where she sat, “It’s not like I could do anything anyway, maybe I can try shooting its eye or something…”
The roar of the crowd came to a halt, welcoming the entrance of the chief. Our eyes snapped onto the lone figure above the wall, clashing against its own terrifying glare.
It leaped from the top, landing with a thud that quaked the dirt beneath. But that wasn’t all; the gate opened, and through it, strolled two other orcs, each carrying a different type of arsenal than the ones before.
One of them wielded a chain-like weapon. It grinned and bowed, greeting the chief with a sly smile. The chief nudged his head forward; sharing some form of respect, but orc gestures were lost on us.
The other one was what drew my attention, however; it wielded a magic staff.
[Lvl. 8 Orc Mage]
Great. Orc mages.