The two lunged at one another again, Yargul ducking down at the last moment and grabbing Yolmar’s legs, using Yolmar’s momentum to lift and throw him over his back. Yargul then ignored Yolmar and sprinted for his axe, although the fist fight had been enjoyable, Yargul was aware of the new enemies that he’d have to face after killing him. Upon grabbing it, he turned, taking quick aim before throwing his axe with all his might, the great axe cleaving through the air with such great speed and force that when it met with Yolmar’s body, it literally tore through it. Yomar had gone for his warhammer but failed to reach it in time, he had the same idea as Yargul but Yargul was just a bit faster.
As he took a small break, his axe meanwhile had torn through four more orcs, finally burying itself into the ground. Yargul rubbed his right shoulder as he rotated his arm, glancing at the orcs who he assumed would be his opponents. He turned to them, the earth rising up to coalesce into armor. The orcs that remained watching eyed one another, each of them wanted to fight Yargul but also wanted the others to tire out Yargul first, they would have a better chance to kill Yargul then. But none stepped forward and after waiting for a fighter to appear, Yargul snorted and went to reclaim his axe.
Seeing an opportunity, one orc moved immediately, intending to kill Yargul while his back was turned. But, expecting this, Yargul began to spin, using the sturdy stone and the spinning to negate any damage that he may have suffered. He successfully managed to deflect the orc’s attack and while the orc prepared to attack again, Yargul suddenly extended an arm, delivering perhaps the deadliest bitch slap to ever to occur on the face of Agleon. The devastating slap hit the orc straight in the cheek, pulverizing the skull and breaking the neck.
Needless to say, the orc died immediately. As the other two orcs, serious now with the death of the third, decided to move together, each approaching Yargul from two opposite directions. Soon, a great broadsword and a mace were hurtling through the air towards Yargul. But Yargul simply smirked and stomped at the earth, causing them to lose their balance. He quickly set upon them, targeting the one with the broadsword as he’d have the hardest time properly defending. As he swung his axe down on the orc, he was surprised to see the orc suddenly grow grey scales which he used to deflect the axe at the cost of breaking his arm.
As Yargul prepared to strike down again, he was hit in the side by the mace, a few of his ribs pulverizing under the force which also knocked him to the side. The orc with the mace stood over him, preparing to crush Yargul’s skull but Yargul jabbed with his fist, a spire of earth imitating his movement and hitting the orc in the side, knocking him away.
“Fuck me, you got me real good. I mean good on ya but fucking son of a bitch does it hurt.”
As he was taking a breather, he returned his attention to the orc down on the ground, impressed to see him wield his broadsword with one hand, albeit with some trouble. This wasn’t just any broadsword, this was one forged for an orc and that meant it was far superior in strength and size that its human counterparts. Yargul didn’t pay him too much attention, creating a small earth spike to knock him down as he turned to face the bigger threat, the orc with the mace.
The orc with the mace charges, his mace and body wreathed in yellow lightning, Yargul going to meet him. Yargul blocks a few strikes from the mace, waiting for the orc’s momentum to disappear before he would begin his counterattack. But, much to his alarm, he found that the orc’s momentum couldn’t be stopped, and the lightning that he continued to exude didn’t help matters either. Yargul was forced on the retreat, his stone armor doing a bit to block the lightning but the living branches of lightning which touched his armor still affected the flesh beneath.
Eventually, he created a stone wall between the two of them, using this as an opportunity to make a counterattack. He punched the wall, throwing stone shrapnel in the orc’s direction which caused him to stumble back, shielding his eyes. Yargul then swung his axe, the axe losing some force as it cleaved through the rest of the wall but it was still enough to break the arm of the orc. Yargul cursed, these orcs were tough, most would have had their chests cleaved open with that strike.
As the orc fell to the ground, Yargul raised his axe and swung downward, killing him. He stood up and turned to face the last orc, only to find a large broadsword flying through the air towards him. He raised his right arm to deflect, the stone armor shattering as his arm was fractured. But, he managed to just barely deflect the blade and that was all that mattered. He made a fist with his left and delivered a vicious hook to the orc’s chin, grabbing the axe that had fallen from his right hand to kill the orc.
But as he leaned forward to grab the axe, a daring orc darted in and viciously stabbed with a dagger, the top half of the blade shattering when it hit the armor, although the force behind the blade allowed the remainder to pierce through. The jagged blade buried itself into Yargul’s side, not too deep as little less than half the blade shattered before it managed to pierce the armor, causing him to grunt as he grabbed the impudent orc’s head with two hands, intent on crushing it.
But the orc continued to ferociously stab away, twisting the blade to make sure that the wound was as terrible as it could get. After witnessing Yargul’s might, he threw away all thoughts of emerging alive, he just wanted to have his name remembered as the one who slew Yargul. After all, with his name remembered he would be immortalized, even though he would die in doing so.
But he soon stopped as his head was assaulted with pain, Yargul was beginning to crush his skull, the thumbs pressing deep into the eyes as the rest of the fingers applied great pressure on the skull. Using the strength of Agleon, Yargul was able to crush the skull of the orc, using his body as a club to fend off the other orcs. As for the wound in his side, he used his ice magic to freeze the wound over, not a good fix but a fix nonetheless. Remembering the orc with the broadsword, he promptly buried his axe into the orc’s chest.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The orc coughed up blood as he stared at Yargul, the last emotions he felt being disappointment. It seems that he wasn’t strong enough to defeat Yargul. With the death of him, the lesser orcs charged in, believing this to be their chance to kill Yargul in his weakened state. With more wounds, Yargul was forced to change his fighting style, relying more on an ice-stone armor hybrid, resembling some sort of cross between a pangolin and a porcupine.
Large scales of which, already deadly, were made more so by a slippery and jagged layer of ice, the same happening with the stone spikes which emerged in whatever gap could be found within his strange looking armor. The usage of the scale lessened chinks in his armor considerably, the spikes making it that much harder to actually access the chinks. With the ice making it doubly hard to actually land a proper hit, its slippery nature combined with the shape of the scales deflecting attacks rather than facing them head-on.
The only bad thing was that this was draining his energy quickly, after all, such a powerful defense could not come for free. And so, aware of the time limit he was working under, Yargul began to bulldoze though the enemy to return to his own camp. He could return to the Skull Lord’s city but he had no desire to go back to that bastard, that was partly why he had left in the first place. The Skull Lord was angry with him for some reason and he didn’t care enough to find out why or deal with his anger.
As for the sea of enemy orcs around him, he didn’t attempt to kill them, they only died if they got in his way. With the bulk of his energy directed to keeping up his new armor, he couldn’t afford to waste energy purposefully attacking. For even with an insane amount of stamina and endurance, the cost of energy which was demanded in order to work the magic was simply too great.
As Yargul struggled to survive, the Surveyor watched with interest, it was able to sense something beginning to change within Yargul. It was, after some closer inspection, was able to understand that the ice mana within Yargul was nearing the prerequisites to evolve. As to what it was going to evolve to, it deduced that it was the dark ice from when it had interfered. Perhaps a residual effect? It would have to conduct some experiments later, but what was known was that it was beginning to evolve. As for how, perhaps it was induced by Yargul dancing so near the edge of death.
After all, the body is a most fascinating thing, it will do anything to survive. By releasing adrenaline, it gives the body one last chance to survive. To fight or flee, it must survive. And right now, the marrow of the body was beginning to evolve, evolving to be able to produce the magic which had once saved Yargul. But it wasn’t done just yet, evolution wasn’t such an easy thing to accomplish. Near death only increased the speed, it did not bring it about immediately.
Now, whether or not Yargul could survive for the evolution to complete, that was the question. At the current rate of evolution and taking into account how it would most likely slow once Yargul wasn’t in danger, the Surveyor calculated that would take three days. But, at the rate of Yargul’s energy expenditure, his speed towards safety, the Surveyor wasn’t seeing very great chances. A... ten percent chance it calculated. However, this was but a rough estimate, there were still many undefined variables which it could only guess about. The final result was not yet revealed, it need only wait.
Meanwhile, Yargul’s energy reserves were reaching their end and he was so close, and yet so far from friendly lines. He then began to entertain thoughts about his death, perhaps he would really die here, dying by some unnamed orc on this battlefield. But the more he thought about it, the more he grew angry, he wasn’t going to die here. He was destined for greater things, he was the Invincible! No matter what happened, he always survived and won. Like that time with the Earth Ape... like that time with the Earth Ape. Perhaps that being would help him again, whatever did help him at the time. But, he seemed to remember something, that the being wouldn’t help him ever again.
Was it true? But Yargul decided not to test it though, if he knew anything about this world, he couldn’t trust anyone or any being for that matter. He could only depend on himself, and right now, he was going to have to depend himself more than ever he had. He had to get through, he had to push through, it didn’t matter that he might not have enough energy to keep up his armor, he just had to. This became his mantra as he continued to run, pushing what little energy he could into keeping up the armor, hardly feeling the attacks of the enemy orcs.
“I have to. I have to. I have to. I have to.”
Over and over he chanted, again and again, he had to. Chanting this, believing it, this would allow him to push himself beyond his limits. This was a most amusing notion to the Surveyor, how does one get through with only belief? There are still physical limitations, limitations that cannot be overcome with belief alone. Sure there are stories, stories about heroes who pushed themselves beyond the limit but the Surveyor was inclined to believe that these were exaggerated rather than actual truth. It is undeniable that belief is a great motivator, but motivation is not enough to accomplish difficult tasks, there must be strength, intelligence, or some other prerequisite that must be met in order to do so.
There are things that people just can’t overcome, no matter how great their will. It makes for a great story and inspires the masses but this perhaps is a tool of those in power to keep the public satisfied, to keep them pursuing impossible goals which they do not realize as impossible. For if they waste their energy on some impossible dream, they cannot divert their energy to things that are dangerous to the hierarchy of power. But then again, the Surveyor could just be overthinking things to a serious degree, perhaps these stories just came into existence because mortals want to believe that they can be better, even though they cannot.
They refuse to see the truth and see only the things which make them happy. They decide to be ignorant. And could the Surveyor blame them? For one thing, the two are completely different, it could not judge them by its standards and two, if it were like them, it would most likely believe the same thing. It observed that among mortals, their ignorance was what made them happy. They ignored such concepts such as death and pain because it would give them discomfort, rather focusing on bright, shiny things to take away their attention.
And for the orcs, for Yargul, that bright and shiny thing was the title of Orc King. A goal, perhaps impossible, that calls to all orcs, a goal which they all desire. Even the weak orcs desire this position, even though they know deep down that it is impossible for them. But they do not stop yearning, perhaps even outright refusing the idea that they are unable to reach that ideal. And right now, Yargul was doing the same, he was refusing the fact that he would most likely die, instead believing that he will live because he had to live. He had to.