Praise the Orc!

Chapter 123: Climax

Chapter 123: Climax

The orcs surrounded the World Tree as the buildings around the World Tree began to burn down in succession. The dark elves watched in grief as the flames consumed their city. The orcs refrained from approaching the World Tree, but they continued to turn Spinora into ruins and torment the hearts of dark elves.

Calmahart was watching everything and enjoying their suffering.

“Did all of the dark elves come to the World Tree?” asked Zelkyan.

“Everyone has evacuated,” replied Zenadu.

Zelkyan exited the World Tree. It wasn’t common for him to leave the World Tree, but they no longer had city walls to protect them or even a city to call their own. All they had left was the World Tree and themselves. Even the villagers who didn’t know how to fight grabbed their weapons. Only the elderly who couldn’t fight remained inside the World Tree.

It was an eerie sight as the orc army drenched in blood surrounded the World Tree. With the sight of Spinora burning as their background, they organized their battle line for the final fight. The dark elves didn’t have any escape route. The orcs were executing a seamless annihilation plan by surrounding them. Everyone knew that a massacre was about to start.

Although Spinora was quiet, it was not a peaceful silence but an intense silence filled with tension. The sound of buildings burning in the background irritated Crockta.

He and Driden stood at the frontline because they had to face the chieftain.

“Crockta.”

“Huh?

“What’s the continent like?”

Crockta thought about it and replied, “It’s a nice place.”

“Is it bigger than the north?” asked Driden.

“Of course. Why? Do you suddenly want to go to the continent?”

“After I avenge my father by killing the chieftain, I want to go see the continent since I don’t have anything to do here,” said Driden as he raised his two swords.

“If you go to the continent, visit Orcrox. You will find out what a true warrior is like.

“Orcrox? Are the orcs there stronger than the chieftain?”

“The chieftain?” Crockta burst out into laughter. “If this was the continent, that guy wouldn’t qualify for the title of a warrior."

“Is that so?” Driden laughed. "Sounds interesting."

“It’s so big that you won’t be able to see all of it even if you travel the continent your whole life," said Crockta as he rested his Ogre Slayer on his shoulder.

Suddenly, the chiefdom’s atmosphere changed. Their fighting spirit surged with explosive energy. Clash was imminent.

“Don’t die.”

“Same goes for you.”

The chieftain took a step forward. The orcs stepped forward at the same time. The ground shook. Crockta firmly clasped his greatsword.

He was a man who didn’t like war. One could grow accustomed to the battlefield, but it wasn’t a place one could enjoy. Thus, he had returned to South Korea, by Yi-Yoo’s side.

But he was standing on the battlefield again.

Was it a twist of fate?

He was facing a battlefield much more dire than the ones he had experienced before. It was a scene of utter chaos with ruthless stabbing and slashing of enemies.

‘Do you regret it?,' he asked himself.

He looked at the chieftain’s sinister face charging toward him. Their eyes met.

“Not at all,” muttered Crockta.

Driden glanced over at Crockta.

Crockta grinned. “I said I’m not afraid at all.”

Before they knew it, the chieftain had already reached them and was swinging his double-headed axe. Driden raised his dual swords and leapt up into the air.

“I agree!” he shouted.

The two scimitars slashed the chieftain’s chest. Crockta lowered his stance and slashed the chieftain’s legs.

But both of them were flung back. The chieftain had become stronger than any monster they had seen before. The red aura around him wavered each time he moved.

The chieftain let out a crazed roar. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

The orcs who had been charging after the chieftain had reached the dark elves’ frontline. The dark elves raised their shields. Arrows filled the sky. The distance between the two forces closed in.

“Kill everyone! The north is ours!” roared the chieftain as the two forces clashed.

***

Overwhelming. It was the most appropriate word to describe Calmahart right now. Overwhelming strength. With a huge body visible to everyone on the battlefield, the chieftain swept away his surroundings each time he swung his double-headed axe.

Intestines, blood, and pieces of flesh flew to far ends of the battlefield and splattered all over the dark elves. The dark elves floundered among the torn corpses of their comrades.

The orcs put up a fierce fight. They disregarded their own death and the deaths of their peers, and stepped past the corpses of enemies and allies. They swung their axes and stacked more corpses on top.

“Everyone, lower your heads!”

Jamero cast a spell with his disciples. A bolt of lightning reached down from the sky and burned numerous orcs, sending them sprawling across the battlefield.

But the orcs’ fighting spirit didn’t falter. The sorcerer standing behind them waved his staff.

Suddenly, a red energy swept through the orcs and rejuvenated them. With strengthened bodies, they pressed on against the dark elves.

The dark elves and the orc sorcerer's magic clashed in the sky. Fire and thunderbolt, and all the different types of strength that could kill their opponents mingled and crumbled. The shockwave of the attack spread and assailed the orcs and dark elves at the battle lines. Both sides groaned in pain.

Calmahart ignored Crockta and Driden and slaughtered everything in his sight. The two struggled to stop him, but Calmahart’s double-headed axe slaughtered everything around him each time the duo paused in between attacks.

With Calmahart at the center, the dark elves’ frontline was pushed back. It was a hopeless situation.

At that moment, cheers erupted from the end of the dark elves’ formation. Crockta looked behind him. His face brightened when he saw who it was.

“Zelkyan!”

The center of the dark elves split with Zelkyan walking toward them. His body shone with a green aura, and he looked like the god of the World Tree. He glanced over at Crockta and Driden, went past them, and stood in front of Calmahart. There was a significant difference in size, but the aura emanating from their bodies was evenly matched.

“Are you Zelkyan?” asked Calmahart.

“So you are Calmahart,” replied Zelkyan.

Thus, Zelkyan, the one who communicated with the World Tree and led the dark elves, and Calmahart, the crazy chieftain who ruled over the chiefdom, finally faced each other.

There was no need for words. Calmahart swung his axe, and Zelkyan released his green energy. Their auras clashed. Calmahart relentlessly swung his double-headed axe at Zelkyan as if trying to tear him apart, but Zelkyan’s green energy did not falter and shook it off.

The shockwaves from their clashes shook the earth. Everyone’s ears grew numb.

Crockta and Driden, who had been watching the scene, exchanged glances. If Zelkyan was facing the chieftain, there was only one thing they could do.

The two set aside Zelkyan and Calmahart and turned in the opposite direction. Then, they swung their weapons toward the orcs spread out at the frontline.

“Bul’taaaaaaaar!”

Crockta began his march. A storm arose, and orcs flew in the sky. His greatsword tore apart everything that stood in its way. Great Warriors occasionally blocked his path, but they were hacked by his greatsword, and their few remaining pieces of flesh were scattered on the battlefield.

“We will let you live if you abandon your weapons and surrender!” shouted Crockta.

His battle cry dominated the battlefield.

“But if you meet me before then, you will die!”

Crockta took a step forward. The orcs retreated with frightened faces, but no one abandoned their weapons. Crockta grinned. Then, heads came flying in unison. Five orcs lost their heads and crumbled to the ground. Crockta stepped on their corpses and looked for his next opponent. The ground shook from his stomping. Each part of his body moved to slaughter his enemy in the most efficient way possible.

His movements at Pinnacle-Tier exceeded every possibility that the enemy could imagine. When the enemy looked to the right, his greatsword slashed the left. When the axe came flying at him, Crockta didn’t block or dodge it, he just swung his greatsword back and chopped his enemy in two along with their weapons.

The sorcerers on the orcs’ side muttered a spell, but Crockta picked up an axe from the battlefield and tossed the axe to split one of the sorcerer's skulls.

The sorcerers at the back eyed his movements. They began to target Crockta and bombard him with spells, but Crockta dodged all of them.

The orc soldiers around him were swept up in the sorcery and crumbled to the ground. When the spells ended, Crockta appeared and shoved his greatsword into the heads of soldiers.

'Life and death are just fleeting moments,' he thought inwardly when he heard a shout from the sky.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

Iridescent lights soared above his head. It was Tiyo. His General was pushing away the orcs, but he seemed tired from the continued battle as his bombardment occasionally ceased. But after his magic bullets cooled down a bit, a stronger wave of energy swept through the enemies. It was a stunning display of Tiyo’s tenacity.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” Crockta tried to catch his breath as he squeezed out every last bit of strength from his muscles. He didn’t have time to rest just because he was tired. Like the words written on Admiral Yi Sun-Sin’s sword, he had to dye the rivers and hills with the blood of his enemies with a single swing.

Suddenly, an orc soldier embracing a dead orc glared at Crockta.

Was he a friend, a comrade, or a lover? No one knew. This was a battlefield. Sadness was a luxury.

The orc soldier charged at Crockta with his weapon. Crockta quickly sent him to the same place as his friend. But another orc appeared and swung his weapon.

While he was eliminating his enemies, those very foes were killing his allies elsewhere.

The screams of dark elves dying at the hands of orcs drowned the battlefield. Everyone became a sinner on the battlefield, but one had to fight for what they believed in.

“Argh...monster...” an orc spat out as he took his final breath.

Crockta pushed away the body of an orc he had just pierced.

The orcs he killed filled up his surroundings, but the orc army was still leading the battle and succeeded in pushing back the frontline whenever they charged.

Dark elves lacked numbers and battle experience. Moreover, the mysterious energy that imbued the orcs made them into fearless warriors.

Then, Crockta saw corpses rising. The dead dragged their bodies and walked toward the orcs.

The orcs were startled by the unfamiliar sight. The undead swung their weapons at the orcs who were shaken by the sight of their enemies who resisted death.

“Anor.”

Anor had unleashed his powers for this battle. He usually refrained from using his powers, but everyone was fighting desperately with all of their might.

“Long time no see, Crockta.”

A familiar voice called out to him.

Crockta saw the source of the voice and nodded. “Indeed.”

It was Hammerchwi. The old orc still carried a frightening hammer.

The Great Warriors who followed him surrounded Crockta. Crockta raised his greatsword. “Are you still living a shameful life, Hammerchwi?”

“...It has been a while, but there is no need to exchange further words,” replied Hammerchwi as he signaled to his warriors to charge. “If you are that confident, then survive on this battlefield!” he shouted.

It was a merciless, full-blown war where one died if one didn’t kill; it meant only victors survived.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Crockta smirked.

The Hammerchwi he had met again was still ignorant, but it wasn’t only him. Everyone was foolish.

None of the orcs here knew what all orcs in the continent understood—that being alive didn’t mean that you were truly living life...They didn’t understand that they were already dead.

“Look closely, Hammerchwi!” Crockta thrust his greatsword toward the Great Warriors. His aura burst out from his entire body. The earth reverberated with his cry. “For I am truly alive!”

***

The battle continued. Dark elves and orcs continued to fight, but the paramount conflict was between Zelkyan and Calmahart. They were clashing with the powers of a higher dimension that normal beings couldn’t even imagine.

Zelkyan breathed heavily as he looked at Calmahart. He had received the World Tree’s infinite powers to face the chieftain, but the chieftain wasn’t an easy foe, and unlike him, the chieftain didn’t grow tired. Calmahart seemed to grow stronger as the fight continued.

“War...” muttered Calmahart.

Zelkyan raised his eyes to look at him.

“Pain...screams...” Now Calmahart’s eyes looked as if they were entranced by something. The red energy had completely consumed him. The black and whites of his eyes were completely saturated in red. Each time he moved his enormous body, a wave of red energy surged and concealed him.

Calmahart thrust his axe at Zelkyan again. Zelkyan mustered all of the strength that the World Tree was sending him. He sent out waves of green energy to block Calmahart’s attack.

Suddenly, Zelkyan was hurled backward.

“Arggghhh!” Zelkyan threw up blood. Just now, an evil energy had emerged from Calmahart and struck him. Zelkyan forced himself to raise his eyes even though his vision was blurry from agony.

Calmahart was approaching him. The red energy had grown darker and was now an even deeper shade of crimson.

Calmahart quietly said, “It’s Chaos, Reuranka.”

Zelkyan’s eyes grew wide at the mention of Reuranka. It was a name that very few beings knew.

“Reuranka, it will be the end of you and your children tonight.” Calmahart was no longer looking at Zelkyan. He was talking to the World Tree who was looking down at the tragedy that Spinora was facing.

Reuranka was the name of the World Tree that only Zelkyan and Zenadu knew. It was the name of the old god imbued into the World Tree that protected them.

Zelkyan tried to get up, but Calmahart’s red energy was overpowering and suppressing his green energy.

Zelkyan forced himself to look up. Behind all this was the sorcerer who controlled Calmahart and watched everything from a distance. No one knew who he was because he was thickly clothed in a hood and robe that concealed his appearance.

Zelkyan mustered all of his strength to push back Calmahart’s powers and unleashed an explosion of energy at the sorcerer who corrupted Calmahart. Zelkyan’s green energy seeped out in strands and struck the sorcerer. The sorcerer immediately collapsed. “...!”

The clothes that looked like the sorcerer fell on the ground. The hood and robe crumbled to the ground as if nothing had ever been inside. The sorcerer was nowhere to be found. Just a crimson fog of energy existed where he used to stand.

That mass of crimson energy was the evil sorcerer’s identity. Its shape warped a bit. Zelkyan felt as if it was smirking at him. The red energy flew toward Calmahart and seeped into his body.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” roared Calmahart. His veins popped out, and his muscles swelled. His eyes shone bright red as strands of red energy emitted from his body. He was a complete monster as he swung his double-headed axe.

“Dammit!” Zelkyan also extended both arms and poured out the powers of the World Tree. “Ahhhhhhh!”

But Calmahart’s attack tore apart the World Tree’s energy and severed Zelkyan’s arms that were extended toward him. Blood spurted out like a fountain.

The dark elves and orcs in the vicinity spotted Zelkyan writhing in pain on the ground after losing both arms. One side lost their fighting spirit, while the other raised their weapons high up in the air and cheered. Just as the tide of victory was about to completely shift, the World Tree shook with a loud thud.

“Hahahahahahhaah!” Calmahart erupted in laughter.

Everyone on the battlefield sensed the enormous World Tree rising.