Book 3: Chapter 5: Orkish Respect

  [Time Remaining: 623 Days, 11 Hours, 55 Minutes]

  The battlefield was still dotted with fires, pools of fresh blood, and the barks of jackals hanging onto the barest shreds of life when Ghurkk’s challenge was made.

  The bodies of the dead jackals lay scattered like broken glass sculptures, their remains catching the firelight in an ever changing kaeleidscope of rainbows. The last of the healing spells around Myrae and Allie’s hands were fading. Through all of this, the camp smelled of scorched meat, and the sharp odor of ozone, punctuated by the occasional cry of a jackal being finished off once and for all.

  Alex turned to face Ghrukk as he took up a position, hands still curled into fists but resting down at his sides. Ghrukk stood across from him, halberd in hand, aura flaring like a hellhound barely on its leash. The dark swirled around him, shadows twisting through fire like spilled ink sizzling into flame.

  A loose ring was already forming as people came to watch, mercenaries, worldstriders, even a few wide-eyed merchants too stunned to do anything but gawk.

  Alex met the Ork’s burning glare with calm eyes. “You were going to lose,” he said flatly.

  Ghrukk’s grin split his face like a nasty scar. “Then I would’ve lost. You don’t take a warrior’s moment.”

  Alex sighed and stepped forward, entering a starting stance in one smooth motion. “Fine,” he said. “Have your moment now.”

  The clearing shifted, and the tension snapped taut between every person present. Then Ghrukk charged.

  The first clash sounded like a tree being felled by lightning. Ghrukk’s halberd slammed down in a blistering arc, carving a trench into the earth where Alex had stood a half-second before. The shockwave knocked sparks from the firepit and rattled the nearest wagon.

  Alex blurred sideways, one foot sliding over gravel as his palm caught the flat of Ghrukk’s blade on the return swing, metal thudding loudly against hard muscle and bone. The force nearly wrenched his shoulder out of its socket, but Alex managed to hold.

  He’s strong. Too strong for a straight contest. But brute strength wasn’t how one beat an Asura, and it certainly wasn’t how to fight like one.

  Alex shifted his stance in the [Demon Asura Style]: Seventh Path – Broken Heaven. The path change came with different stances. His movements and actions became more fluid than before, unpredictable. Ghrukk came at him, a blur wrapped in blade and shadow, each swing wide and strong enough to decapitate any lesser opponent that would have found itself on the receiving end.

  Alex ducked, twisted, and turned his body sideways as the halberd cut the air inches from his chest, before he stepped into the Ork’s guard. He countered with a fist to the man’s elbow, only to have Ghrukk catch the blow on his armor with a snarl and re-counter with a backhand that sent Alex retreating back two paces.

  “Come on, little ghost!” Ghrukk roared. “Hit me like you mean it!”

  Alex obliged. He surged forward, stutter stepping then ducking a blow and closing in quickly, his punch aimed at the shoulder joint of Ghurkk’s right arm. His fist was already glowing with the compact aether energy of his [Flare] spell as it met Ghrukk’s body.

  The Ork took the blow and resulting shockwave with a shudder and grunt, but he didn’t yield his position. The flash of impact threw ribbons of energy into the night, and now the two were really moving. A dance of force and finesse. The raw power of Ghrukk, met with Alex’s calculated savagery.

  Ghrukk’s energy surged, flame darkening to a blackened red, and casting shadows like living things. His swings grew wilder, heavier, a wall of violence that made the air itself shake.

  Alex shifted again, breathing slow. [Demon Asura Style]: Fifth Path – Bodily Bastion. His stance changed again and suddenly his movements narrowed, focused, his guard tight, steps minimal. He invited the blows now, nudging them off-course, letting them whistle past, each one narrowly missing his body by just enough. He could feel the air pressure tearing at his clothes, the heat burning across his cheeks and palms. But he was still standing, still calculating.

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  Then it came, a tell. He saw Ghrukk breath a beat too long, a step too wide. Alex feinted low, dragging his foot across the dirt, and Ghrukk reacted, swinging down in a brutal arc to counter a kick that seemed to be coming.

  The Ork was too slow, as Alex was already inside his guard again. He twisted upward, his momentum changing direction mid-swing of his leg, and drove the flat of his left palm against Ghrukk’s ribs instead. Then he performed a pivot, an elbow to the throat, followed by a boot against the Ork’s inner knee. Each blow sent a jolt of dark energy from his aura into the Ork’s body. The energy fought the ork from the inside, disrupting aether flow and corroding tissue.

  Ghrukk stumbled and roared, unable to hold in his rage, he swung again.

  Alex dropped low, letting the attack slide by and for Ghrukk’s over commitment to pull him forward. It was swift after that, Alex slammed his elbow into the Ork’s exposed lower back, just above the hip, an exact strike. One that Sylvaris had taught him.

  Ghrukk’s legs buckled beneath him, his spine ravaged by the energy of Alex’s [Burning Strike]. He dropped to one knee, panting, halberd quivering in his grip. The damage wouldn’t be enough to cripple the Ork, Alex made sure of that, as he didn’t want to ruin the warriors path to power. But he’d have trouble for the next hour or so.

  Silence fell across the clearing.

  Smoke curled up from both their bodies, burnt cloth, singed hair, and the lingering scent of aether discharge thick in the air. Alex stood still, arm and fist held out and steady. Ghrukk looked up at him with wide eyes.

  Then, slowly, a deep, rumbling laugh erupted from the Ork’s chest, half-choked and full of blood. He spat to the side, a glob of thickened red-purple staining the already scorched dirt with a splat, and grinned like a lunatic.

  “Finally!” he bellowed. “Someone who hits back!” He thumped one fist against the ground, shaking with manic amusement. “You fight like a beast prowling around his prey! I love it!” He hauled himself upright, staggering slightly on unsteady legs. Something that Alex was surprised he was able to do already, given the attack Alex had subjected him to. “You’ve got my respect, human. And that’s a rare thing. I’ll follow your lead… for now.”

  Behind him, Ghrukk’s mercenary team let out a collective sigh. Myrae rolled her eyes, Doran muttered something about “stubborn bastards” but nodded faintly. Sarson gave a little cheer before Selka smacked him on the back of the head. Even Rynel appeared to have lowered his guard and grinned.

  Across the circle, Garret whispered, “Is that how you get promoted these days? Beat up a boss?”

  Henry shrugged. “Worked with us in Terraxum bootcamp, didn’t it?”

  Alex said nothing as he wiped a smear of blood from his mouth with the back of his glove, lips tightening into a dry smirk. “Wasn’t planning on leading anyone,” he muttered under his breath.

  Obby’s illusion body drifted into his view, arms crossed in mock offense. “Excuse me, what am I? Dead mist? We’ve been through dozens of fights together, I deserve to be co-leader of this new upgraded team. No, I’ll be King Obby! Eh, that’s too much...”

  I meant voluntarily. I don’t want to be a leader. I’m terrible at it, if you haven’t noticed already. Lets just ignore this and let everyone sort themselves out.

  “Mmm. That’s fair, you are indeed, terrible.”

  After the jackals had all been finished off, and Ghrukk had gotten is pride re-centered, everyone got to cleaning up. Bodies needed to be harvested and burned, beast cores recovered. It was the gruesome work, the busy work, that came after all the exciting fights, but it didn’t take too long.

  Around the campsite fires rekindled, bedrolls set back out in vain attempts to catch up on some rest. Around the circle, wagons creaked as restless merchants peeked from behind canvas flaps every few minutes, nerves still tight. At one point, Alex saw Tom-Tom replace his dented helmet with a newly shined cooking pot, where he had gotten it, Alex didn’t know. Once his protective gear was secured, the little lizard laid down under a wagon and muttered about Orks having weird friendship rituals.

  Alex sat alone by the fire, letting the warmth seep into his sore muscles and bones. He had only used the [Vita-Surge Cloak] briefly, but it still took a toll on him, even with his vitality past the first earth tribulation. He was hoping the increase in his stat would remove the weakness period after the spell’s use, but tit turned out that was just wild daydreaming.

  It helped lessen the strain, but it didn’t remove it. Alex would have to rework the spell to remove that part, but it would mean also making the spell weaker, something Alex refused to do, especially in the wake of discovering just how truly out-classed the sentient races were when compared to Arcane Beasts and their bodies.

  That’s a problem for future-Alex to deal with. For now, I need to rest and recover what little I can.

  “And I need to work on increasing my wisdom” Obby spoke in his mind, doing a horrible impression of Alex’s own voice.

  Goddammit Obby.