Night fell on the orcish fortress, its orcs losing confidence with the day. For the past six years, the Metal Beast had terrorized their coasts and was becoming increasingly bold, almost always attacking at night and ambushing orcish camps. The reason why they were afraid now was because the survivors of such an attack had taken refuge in the fortress, speaking of the attack that had happened just days ago. They were almost sure that the next target would be this fort and the orcs were on edge, wondering if the fortress would hold.
Orcs did not fear many things but the Metal Beast had taken its place on the list, one of the few things that they simply couldn’t kill. That was what orcs feared most, things that they could not kill, things that they could not overcome. That is why orcs feared old age, to deteriorate with Time to meet an eventual end which signified their defeat. Orcs would rather die in battle fighting for victory than to die in defeat because if they fight for it, there is a chance they could win. Against old age, they had no chance of victory and neither would they against the Metal Beast.
That is why most orcs would continue to fight to their death because in their mind, fighting to the end was a victory for them. They would not surrender against the face of the inevitable and would go down fighting. This couldn’t be accomplished against Time and the Metal Beast, Time rendered them too weak to fight and the Metal Beast simply killed them too quickly for them to put up a fight. They were truly helpless before these things and that is a cause for fear among all creatures, even orcs.
The only comforting factor for them was the presence of Yargul the Invincible, sent here by the Skull Lord to deal with the Metal Beast, who was given this job because of his nigh impregnable defense. Yargul himself wasn’t as worried, in fact, he was rather excited to meet this Metal beast. A creature that possessed both the power of Lightning and Metal Armor, a creature that may actually provide him a challenge.
As the moon began to rise, he made his way to the parapet of the fortress, his blessed axe glinting coldly in the moonlight. Suddenly feeling as if he were being watched, he cast his gaze towards the dark forest that surrounded the fort, carefully looking into the shadows to see whoever it was that dared to watch him. When he failed to do so, he smirked and waved his free hand to the forest, letting them know that he knew they were there. He then turned and descended the parapet, waiting for the attack to come.
Within the forests, the elves watching him were unpleasantly surprised by Yargul’s actions, relaying this information to Erwin who soon smiled, a worthy opponent. So far, he had been disappointed by orcish warfare, it was just throwing your forces at the enemy and see who had the greater numbers, nothing too special. It disappointed Erwin who had taken war to be an art form, one he sought to perfect. Against these savages how could he do so?
But the appearance of Yargul had mildly intrigued him, he knew that this was no regular orc but he also wasn’t expecting too much. Yargul was still only an orc after all, an outstanding orc isn’t that much of an accomplishment.
He was brought back from his thoughts when one of the elves asked, “What do we do sir?”
Erwin waved his hand casually.
“We shall continue with the plan, we attack within the hour.”
“But sir-”
The elf tried to protest but Erwin cut him off with a gesture. “We will continue with the plan, I’ve yet to see any semblance of intelligence among orcs, they will not defeat me.”
Meanwhile, the very orcs who Erwin had insulted waited in their positions out in a separate camp half a mile away, placed there on Yargul’s orders. They were to make absolutely no noise, make no fires, and do absolutely nothing to reveal their presence. Only when they heard the roaring of the Metal Beast were they to make any move at all, specifically to slaughter any soldiers of the Alliance they found.
And because of Erwin did not expect the orcs to be intelligent, he had not properly scouted out the area, believing that all would be well. After all, all had been well for the past six years. And so totally ignorant of the trap he was entering, he then turned and retired to his tent, getting a last-second nap before the coming battle. Well, that was too generous in his opinion, it was more like a slaughter. He had complete faith in his tank, it hadn’t even suffered a scratch since its creation, these orcs were simply too primitive.
He woke up a few minutes before the allotted time, giving himself a few moments to wake up entirely. He wasn’t particularly excited, he just entered the tank and prepared to do the usual, charge in, blow up a wall and slaughter any orc that dares to stand before him. As the rumble of the engine filled the air, the elves prepared themselves for battle, donning black clothing in order to blend with the shadows. They would surround the fort to kill any orc that managed to escape the tank, their goal was a complete extermination.
The attack began, the tank bursting through the foliage, firing a shot towards the wall. As expected the wall fell to pieces and within moments, the tank was inside the fortress, slaughtering the guards and the sleeping orcs. On the opposite side of the fort, Yargul grinned as he heard the carnage, finally, the Metal Beast had come.
He armored himself in stone, picked up his axe, and charged towards the Metal Beast.
“Come Metal Beast! Face me!”
Staring at the orc with disappointment, Erwin turned the turret towards him and fired, turning away believing Yargul to be dead. The tank shell barely missed Yargul, hitting the ground before his feet and knocking him into the air, flying five meters backward, with his armor destroyed and Yargul presumably dead. Suddenly, a few moments later, Yargul rose from the rubble, his armor reforming, and roared,
“Fuck! That hurt bastard!”
He picked up a large wooden log and hurled it at the tank, rocking it and making a small dent in the hide. But other than that, the tank was unharmed and seeing this, Yargul smiled, the fight wouldn’t be enjoyable if it ended so quickly. Surprised, Erwin turned the turret once more to face the orc, sitting back with his interest rekindled. But he was soon forced to fire again as Yargul began to charge, Erwin deduced from the strength in which Yargul had hurled the log that a strike from the orc would be undesirable. But this time Yargul was more prepared, merely stumbling this time as the power of Agleon reinforced him, enabling him to endure most of the tank shell’s force.
He continued to charge and was immediately peppered by a storm of bullets from the machine guns, his stone armor slowly beginning to chip away. Seeing this, Yargul immediately retreated, stomping his feet to create a wall of stone which provided him a brief moment of respite. He wondered what to do when the wall suddenly exploded, accompanied by the thunderous boom the Metal Beast’s main gun. Yargul, slightly stunned, began to run again, enduring the bullets of the machine guns as he wondered how he would defeat the Metal Beast.
He then saw the snout of the beast turn to him once more and knowing what was to come, he made a wall and immediately ran away from it, making sure to keep it between him and the Metal Beast. Sure enough, another thunderous explosion rocked the battlefield, although this time Yargul had fared far better. He made another wall—triple-layered this time—and took a moment to rest and think, how could he fight against the Metal Beast?
He then struck upon the idea and he laughed at himself for being so stupid, hardly noticing the third attack from the Metal Beast which blew apart the wall, although Yargul was once again mostly unharmed. He stood, ignoring the storm of bullets which chipped away at his armor as he drew back with his arm, throwing a rock with as much force he could muster. The rock smashed into the side of the tank, rocking it and putting in a small dent but doing nothing else. Yargul immediately began to run again, making his path erratic in order to avoid the main gun of the tank.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Every time the tank fired and missed, Yargul would stop to create a sizeable stone to hurl at the tank, each stone getting larger and larger as he progressed, causing more and more damage to the tank as a result. As a result, Erwin began to take the fight more seriously, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins for the first time since he had come to this world. This, this was the challenge he had been looking for, an opponent in which he had the possibility to lose against even if he tried his best.
Unbeknownst to him, a grin made its way onto his face and the same grin was mirrored in Yargul’s face, it had been a while since he had last faced an opponent which he could die against. Erwin became entirely focused onto the battle, ignoring the other orcs which ran away as he trained the turret’s machine gun on Yargul. Occasionally he would fire the main gun when he thought he had Yargul but the orc proved to be slippery, managing to survive each encounter no worse for wear, although perhaps slightly stunned from the shockwaves.
Once more Erwin praised the constitution of orcs, their bodies could withstand far more punishment than that of humans. Erwin knew this of course but this was the first time he had seen just how much punishment their bodies could endure. Of course, he wasn’t an ordinary orc if the stone armor was anything to go by, but the shockwaves from a tank shell connecting with its target was nothing to laugh at either. The body of a human is rather fragile so even a shockwave of a near miss hitting the ground is enough to kill a man.
Yet this orc survived again and again from near misses, although he seemed to sustain noticeably damage, Yargul no longer able to dodge as fast as he could. And indeed, the effects of enduring near misses were beginning to take their toll, Yargul wouldn’t last that much longer. But Yargul hadn’t spent his time just running, in between attacks he was analyzing the Metal Beast, finally deciding that what he thought to be the snout had to go. He actually reached this conclusion a while ago but hitting the damn thing proved to be harder when he had to dodge its fearsome attacks as well as the supporting fire of the machine guns.
But finally, more by luck than anything, a stone projectile managed to deform the main gun of the tank, preventing Erwin from firing the gun. Cursing this fact, Erwin continued to focus fire onto Yargul, using light armor piercing rounds in an effort to kill Yargul. It did succeed in heavily wounding him before he managed to create a wall which gave him a brief respite, allowing him to assess the damage. His left leg and arm would be rendered useless but he should still be able to fight. He then reached for his axe but remembered that he had dropped it when he had been shot by the Metal Beast. He quickly searched for it, sighting the silver handle glinting in the moonlight seven meters away from him.
He cursed and increased the thickness on his armor, his body beginning to burn uncomfortably hot with the increased usage. A vessel must be strong enough to channel energy and the amount of energy that Yargul was channeling was nearing his limit. But he ignored this fact, as long as he did not lose he was willing to push his body till it died. He managed to survive the storm of bullets and make it to his axe, taking a hold of the hilt as he turned to face the tank.
He roared and charged, holding his axe high as he prepared to cleave off the turret of the tank, believing it to be the head. But he had underestimated the power of the machine guns, the bullets packing a bit more power at this close of a range. He was forced to make his armor even thicker, his body beginning to burn with an unbearably hot sensation. In fact, the sensation was so hot that his armor began to glow a cherry-red, heat radiating off of him.
Meanwhile, Erwin opened the hatch of the tank and managed to exit before the axe buried itself deep into the turret. Yargul had a large grin on his face, he believed the Metal Beast to be dead so he immediately released his magic, the stone armor falling off of him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a peculiar sensation in his chest, as if something tried to push him but just passed through. He looked down and saw blood beginning to pour forth from the neat little hole in his chest and he looked up, seeing Erwin standing before him.
Erwin then spoke, “The battle is not yet won orc, but you put up a good fight.”
He was about to finish him off when the orcs who Yargul had positioned finally arrived, ambushing the elves who surrounded the fort and allowed the orcs within the fort to begin their attack, no longer hampered by the elvish archers. Erwin cursed and went to kill Yargul but a thrown spear forced him to re-enter his tank, leaving Yargul wounded but not dead. In that brief moment, the orcs had managed to surround his tank and they began to pound away at, Erwin quickly driving the tank out of there, using the machine guns to get off what orcs he could.
Cursing, he commanded the elves to retreat with communication crystals, using his machine guns to deter any orc from following them. As for the orcs on his tank, the elvish archers soon took care of them, leaving their bodies riddled with arrows.
Back at the fort, Yargul was lying on the ground, a few orcs covering him with earth. This was in order to speed up the healing process, although it was far harder than it seemed. The mana within his body sensed a foreign presence in his body, specifically the dark matter of the bullet, and was doing its best to expel it but Yargul was unknowingly interfering by trying to heal the wound. So he was just lengthening the process it would take for him to heal, leaving him struggling for his life for four days straight before the bullet was finally expelled.
From there, the healing was relatively easy and two days later, he was ready to fight once more.
Once he healed he immediately made his way to the wall of the fort, shouting at the top of his voice, “Man in the Metal Beast, I await our next meeting!”
Of course, Erwin was too far away to hear the words of Yargul but he still turned back nonetheless, his eyes on the sight of his first defeat.
An elf, seeing his curious action, asked, “What is it, sir?”
Erwin’s gaze lingered for a few moments before saying, “Nothing, I just thought I heard something.”
Back in Otium—within the Librarian’s floating garden—Iraliel rested in bed, reading one of the Surveyor’s many collected memories. It was about a preman’s perspective—specifically that of Eversor the Destroyer—of the Purge and it had proven to be very enlightening to her, it had shown her that all was not as it had seemed.
—EVERSOR—
I looked up into the sky which soon darkened with the wings of angels, each seeming like comets of light which fell to Agleon with Heaven’s vengeance. As they came closer and closer, I prepared to give the order to shoot, wanting to kill as many of them as possible in one strike.
Just when I could see their eyes, small dots against their white faces I shouted, “Fire!”
Projectiles of energy then shot forth to meet the enemy, their corpses, feathers, and blood raining down. It was a sight I had seen before and a sight I was sure to see again, for I would not stop fighting until my people were safe. But this did not deter the remaining angels and they neared, their weapons glowing with divine light. I drew my sword, a sword which was capable of cutting through anything, a weapon personally gifted to me by Darkness himself.
And with this sword in hand, I met the oncoming angels, shouting, “Slay the invaders!”
With an answering roar, the soldiers under my command raised their spears and engaged the enemy while I sought out the Archangels. I soon sighted two fighting back to back, slaughtering my comrades and I began to make my way to them, cutting down any angel that dared get in my way. Seeing me, an Archangel charged over, her divine sword shining brightly as it sliced through the air. I slew her with ease, my sword cutting through her blade as if it was not there, the Archangel dying with a look of surprise on her face.
As her body fell to the ground, the remaining Archangel roared, “You bastard! You will pay for that!”
“Me?” I pointed my sword at him and said, “You will be the one to pay, you divine filth, you were the one that instigated this war, not us.”
He snorted, “Don’t tell me such lies infidel, you have sinned against Heaven and for that your sentence is death.”
Seeing that he would not see the truth, I slew him as I had done with the previous Archangel, saying over his lifeless corpse, “Being strong was our only sin angel.”
I then shouted, “The Archangels are dead my comrades, the angels lose their order, do not lose this chance! Kill them all!”
My soldiers rallied under me and charged, the angels soon panicking with the death of their leaders. Soon, the only angels to remain were corpses, I and my soldiers victorious once more. But I knew that I alone wasn’t enough, although I was powerful I could not be everywhere, as much as I hate to admit it, we Premen will lose this war. But even though I knew this, I shall still fight, for that is all I can do. All I can do is to fight for my people, fight on so that they at least have hope of living to see tomorrow.