Chapter 15: 15. The Final Monster Wave

Kalgur had set up a suburban kingdom of orcs befitting his title. The northern section of their subregion was flooded with orcs of more varieties than Alistair had ever seen before. Besides the swarms of grunts mulling about the streets, he spotted war-orcs, half-orcs, and two new subspecies. One was a particularly giant breed of black and white orc called a “death-orc” that looked like they could snap a bull’s neck with a crank of an arm, and the other called a “drake-orc” looked like a hybrid of an orc with a komodo dragon.

Oliver’s [Raise Dead] Skill turned out to be useful for more than just frightening little kids (and adults), and after improving his Skill to Tier 3, he could see through the eyes of his summons. As they camped in a house nearby Prince Kalgur’s territory, Oliver relayed what he witnessed.

“Based on the map and what my zombies saw, there’s two lines of defense we’re going to have to break through. The first is a square around six blocks away from their base. It’s more sparsely patrolled than the inner region, which is a three-block radius surrounding their base of operations. There’s no way we can get to Kalgur undetected. Unless?” Oliver looked at Alistair and Alexandra.

“We don’t have any stealth Skills, if that’s what you were asking,” Alistair replied.

“Ah, too bad. Looks like we’re going to have to cause a huge fight, and I don’t think I’m going to be that helpful. I can only control five zombies at a time, and they’re weaker than their living versions.”

“I think there’s no point in wasting time.” Alexandra took out her tactical knife, flipping it in what Alistair thought was a nervous habit. “We could try being stealthy until we get closer to their base, but with three of us and our increased auras, I don’t think it would work, even with the sparse patrolling. So let’s just make a run for it. Alistair, you’ll have to slow down for us.”

“You feel it too?” he asked. It was something he had slowly realized after he and Alexandra passed level 15 and gained a Class. There was something different about them, something he couldn’t quite put into words. After their renamed planet was christened into the Final Frontier Empire, he could feel a power coming from certain individuals. Krazz had certainly exuded a foreboding aura, and even the projection of Prince Kalgur was intimidating. Now that they were level 16, he could feel Alexandra’s aura from twenty feet away, and vice versa. It was good for projecting strength but bad for furtiveness, and he hoped they would soon find a way to mask their aura.

“So you want us to just make a mad dash for the headquarters of the strongest monster in this entire region, with over two hundred orcs in the area?” Alistair asked.

“Back when we were level 13, I could kill the war-orcs in a single blow, and you were so fast that they could barely touch you. And we doubled our stats since then and gained extra Skills. I doubt anyone but the Bloodsun Orcs are going to pose any threat individually, but we don’t want to give them time to call all of their buddies once we attack them,” Alexandra explained.

“It sounds like a plan to me,” Alistair replied. He was itching to test out all of his new toys. Even just his stats, which had almost doubled. With every step he took, he felt like barely contained the nascent power in his body. He felt literally invincible, though he knew that hubris was the first step to death.

All their preparations were complete, and they had nothing left to do but finish the Quest. He spent his remaining drachma on Mana and Health pills, just in case.

“Aren’t you forgetting me? How am I supposed to keep up with monsters like you two?” Oliver asked, concern evident on his face.

“I think I have a solution for that.” Alistair smiled.

---

With Alistair’s Strength, running with Oliver strapped to his back was easy. What wasn’t easy was him not falling off. When you’re running at nearly thirty miles an hour, any turns buckle a piggyback rider. It was fortunate that Alexandra wasn’t as fast as him as there was no way Oliver could have stayed on at any faster a speed.

Along the way, they passed by several orcs roaming about the streets. Any close enough to attack were taken care of by either his fist or Alexandra’s [Empower Weapon] enhanced knife, and they left the rest to their own devices.

As they grew closer to where Oliver identified as the inner region, he tapped on Alistair’s shoulder. Because of the rush of the wind, he could barely hear the teenager even as he spoke right into his ear.

“Behind us!” Oliver cried.

“What?”

“Behind us! In the distance, they’ve gathered up!”

Alistair looked back for a split second, any more than that, and he risked tripping over himself. They were on a central road that went straight for over a mile, and on the far horizon he could make out a group of over thirty grunt and leader orcs running at them.

That was when his world became awash in a sea of red and orange. In a feat of preternatural reaction time, possibly assisted by his new [Fighter’s Instinct] Skill, Alistair used [Dash] before the worst of it struck him. Mana pulsed through his legs, contracting every muscle in a burst of pure power, sending him careening into the backyard of a nearby house.

Alistair lifted himself up from the grass, dazed and confused, with his hair singed but unhurt. Oliver was unhurt as well, landing a couple of feet in front of him. They were both almost fried by a massive fireball that appeared out of nowhere. The street which they were running on was smoking, the nearby trees and grass smoldering and burning in magical bright red flames. That was when he saw Alexandra.

Unlike Alistair, she hadn’t managed to dodge the brunt of the flames, and she looked worse for the wear. He would have expected her to be on fire and her clothes burned away, but instead, her skin looked blackened and she was sent flying dozens of feet back. She recovered near instantaneously, jumping up and holding out her knife, and Alistair could tell something had changed in her. Her eyes were unfocused yet burning with emotion and there was a new torrential aspect to her aura that spoke of unending fury. She had activated [Barbarian’s Rage].

It was then he noticed their enemies. Around a hundred feet in the direction they were headed, a band of orcs flickered in and out of invisibility before solidifying in his vision. Under his breath, he cursed his lack of perception. They thought they were the ones going to ambush Kalgur, but it was they who were taken off guard by an attack.

Two golden Bloodsun Orcs just as large as Krazz stood at the vanguard of the opposing party. While Alistair was no orc biology expert, they looked like identical twins. Each wore tight leather armor and carried a titanic circular silver shield and a mace that looked too large even for their eight-foot tall golden bulk.

As was customary at that point, Alistair used his [Eyes of Truth] Skill.

Name: Tybar Gyzorr
Species: Bloodsun Orc I (Partially Evolved)
Level: 19
Class: Warrior (Common) [Primary Attribute(s): Strength and Constitution]
Title: Head General of the Blood Orcs

Name: Gylar Gyzorr
Species: Bloodsun Orc I (Partially Evolved)
Level: 19
Class: Warrior (Common) [Primary Attribute(s): Strength and Constitution]
Title: Head General of the Blood Orcs

Their levels were higher than his or Alexandra's, but he wasn’t really worried. He had already beaten a level 17 Bloodsun Orc at level 13, so individually they weren’t a problem. However, they were flanked by several of the new flavors of orc. To both sides of the generals were half-orcs cloaked in tattered brown robes and death-orcs that towered over everyone in sight, being at least ten feet tall and carrying gigantic broadswords in their variegated hands.

“Oliver, stay back. These guys are too much for you to handle right now. Defend our rear from the ones chasing us,” Alistair ordered. Oliver scrambled to his feet and began summoning his zombie orcs from their dimensional storage.

When Alexandra had tested her [Barbarian’s Rage] before, she had still retained most of her mental faculties. But that was without an actual opponent before her. Now, it looked like she had lost all form of reason as she brazenly charged at the orcs.

With a swing from her [Empower Weapon] enhanced knife, she went straight for Tybar’s head and missed. Instead, she met the blade of one of the death-orcs, who stood its ground and blocked the earth-shattering strike. Somehow in between the moment she started her attack and when she landed her blow, the Bloodsun orc had swapped places with his minion.

Right as she met the black and white orc’s sword, Gylar heaved his mighty mace and smashed Alexandra with an upward swing that she barely blocked, sending her flying away and crashing into a nearby house.

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Alistair had to admit that the orcs had a smart way of fighting. The half-orcs used their magic for crowd control and long-ranged damage, swapping their leaders with the meaty bodies of death-orcs whenever it got too dangerous. That was why he would take out the support first.

Besides the two generals, there were nine other enemies. A pair of half-orcs on each side at the back, three death-orcs, and two war-orcs right next to their masters, adorned in the most ornate armor Alistair had ever seen. The half-orcs were his target; with their Shaman Class, it was unlikely that the others were responsible for the fireball, invisibility, or swapping.

With a [Dash], he breached the distance in an instant. There was nothing the orc could do as Alistair connected with a [Mana Strike] kick to the face, killing it instantly, the force of the kick sending the orc’s corpse flying straight into the side of his fellow Shaman. He might have killed the other half-orc just from the impact, but he wasn’t about to leave it up to chance and with another [Mana Strike], he slashed the second Shaman’s head clean off with a karate chop.

His body moved on autopilot as he dodged a deafening smack of Gylar’s mace. [Fighter’s Instinct] was already proving incredibly useful, each pugilist’s hunch completely integrated into his body and mind.

Alexandra wouldn’t let herself be outdone, and came flying out of the house she crashed into, fury on her face. The fighting began in earnest.

Realizing Alistair’s plan, Tybar barked orders to protect the remaining half-orcs, or that was what he assumed the general had said, since three death-orcs started forming a circle around the smaller casters, protecting them from every angle.

Alexandra leaped to attack the group but once again was displaced, this time directly in front of Tybar. A split second of confusion was all the orc needed to land a stroke of his mace that sent her skittering on the concrete. He was quick to follow up, dashing after her with his armored war-orc.

Alistair had his own battle and while he worried for Alexandra, he also knew that she had a ton of Constitution, plus the extra healing from [Barbarian’s Rage]. He had to figure out how to get to the half-orcs or he would suffer the same consequences Alexandra had.

He ran toward the protected magic users, ready to jump over their line of protection, but suddenly his world shifted and he was right in front of Gylar’s mace. He barely ducked his head in time, and he felt a gust of wind ruffle his hair. With the momentum he still kept from his sprint and the sudden contortion of his body, his lack of balance caused him to tumble over, landing him on the grass on the road verge.

As he stood up, he gathered himself together and analyzed what had happened. The Shaman’s Skill had teleported him a couple of feet away and changed his orientation, bringing him right into the already swinging mace of their master. Based on the fluidity of the operation, they had experience executing the maneuver.

Gylar and his leader orc servant stood in the way between Alistair and the circle of orcs behind them, around fifty feet away. The ostentatious war-orc stomped the ground with his gold and silver greaves, taking a heater shield off his back. Dark red energy emanated from the item, forming a barrier of burgundy energy stretching fifty feet high and wide in both directions.

Alistair didn’t let the wall of energy stop him, and gathered a [Mana Strike] into his fist. The spectral blue energy surrounding his fist like concentrated fire looked the mostly same as his old [Mana Punch], but he could feel far more power behind it. His Mana reserves were decent at 87 of 134 but he didn’t want to waste any more on a [Dash] until he gauged their defenses' strength.

He didn’t need his movement Skill to speed by the head general or the war-orc, and with a mighty fist imbued with [Mana Strike], he shattered the energy field and kept running. Before he even made it a third of the way, he was teleported once again right in front of the path of Gylar’s mace. This time, however, his servant was there, using his dark red energy to form a tiny cage trapping him with the raging orc.

The orc’s attacks were slow enough to dodge easily, but the cage left very little maneuverability. He bemoaned the waste of Mana, but another [Mana Strike] was necessary and he broke out and activated [Dash], determined to blow by the three giants protecting the shamans before they could whisk away him.

This time he made it two-thirds of the way, further than last time, before meeting the familiar sight of Gylar’s mace. He was making progress. There must have been some sort of cooldown on the Shaman’s teleporting Skill.

Emboldened by his success, Alistair burned through his remaining Mana, shattering the war-orc’s cage and rocketing toward the protected Shamans with almost no downtime.

It would have worked if not for the inferno. This time, he saw what happened. The half-orcs clasped hands and generated a ball of pure fire that exploded in a cone of sparking flames. The conflagration scorched two of their own death-orcs to the bone. In his own desperation, Alistair concocted the idea to use [Mana Strike], which lacked any body part specifications, on his own skull, headbutting the cone of fire in two. The flames still burned his skin and pushed him back, but he was mostly unharmed.

Alistair knew he was dangerously low on Mana, but he didn’t have enough time to pop a pill. His moment was now, when the Shamans still thought he was out of commission from their offensive Skill. Bringing his Mana down to 17, he activated [Dash] once more.

There was no thought or indecision as Alistair pointed his hand forward and imbued it with [Mana Strike]. With the velocity of [Dash] and his Mana-enhanced fingers acting like a lance of pure destruction, there was no stopping his attack. In a spatter of gore, he speared straight through the torsos of the spellcasting half-orcs. His momentum kept him moving forward and straight into the body of the final death-orc, causing his two dead opponents to impale themselves right up to his upper arm.

With the bodies still hanging off his limb, he took the opportunity to roundhouse kick the death-orc in the stomach. It keeled over in a manner unbefitting of such an enormous creature, and Alistair looked back at the shocked general, finally shrugging off the corpses from his arm.

He spared a glance over his shoulder. He had been counting on Alexandra to make sure the kid wasn’t being swarmed and to have his back the whole time, and she hadn’t let him down. Alistair was worried now, as he estimated [Barbarian’s Rage] should be ending soon, the spell of weakness to follow.

It appeared his worries were for nothing as Alexandra was battering the poor Bloodsun Orc into nothingness. His shield bearer already unmoving, Tybar was barely using his shield to block her ferocious assault. While she bore cuts all over her singed body, the orc was far worse, with gashes deep in his left shoulder and across his chest. Every second, Alexandra forced him back and cut new splinters into his cracking shield.

Alistair admired her style of fighting; dauntless, strong, unyielding. She was like a slowly moving glacier that never backed down and boldly dared all to test its mettle. He was not like that. Alistair was a flash of steel in the depths of night, an avatar of speed that ended its enemy before they could even react. The winner of his duel would be determined in a matter of seconds.

He had enough Mana for single use of one of his Skills. One chance to close the distance with the orc in an instant with [Dash], or one chance to deal skull-crushing damage in a single blow with [Mana Strike]. With no time left to decide, Alistair went with his gut instinct and reached Gylar in a flash of movement.

His body moved in complete attunement with [Fighter’s Instinct], kicking backward at the armored war-orc while simultaneously uppercutting the Warrior orc to his jaw. He followed up, easily sidestepping a flailing swing of his mace and jumping on top of the orc’s shield. From his new vantage point, he twisted his hips to kick the general’s jaw. Alistair landed gently on the concrete as the orc staggered back, rushing forward yet again to not let the orc have any room to breathe. This was how he won, with an overwhelming torrent of blows at speeds exceeding the enemy’s reaction time.

He lost count of how many punches and kicks he landed. Gylar was one tough son of a bitch, valiantly thrashing around with his shield and mace, despite all the bones in his face being completely shattered. With one solid impact from his mace, Alistair might have died on the spot, but Gylar would never get that opportunity.

Alistair felt his arms and legs grow as he continued his assault. A 12-6 elbow to the face. An uppercut to the liver (or where a liver was on a human). A knee to the groin. Tybar’s resistance grew weaker and weaker, once fatal arcs of a mace turning into effete twitches. Finally, after a vicious hook, the great orc collapsed to the ground.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, panting from exertion. A brief check on his status screen revealed he gained three levels, and with his six new free points, he put four points into Constitution and two into Charisma. Miraculously, he had only lost a single point of Health during the entire battle, though his Mana dropped to 8/134 before the influx from his level up. The saddest part was that the level-ups came bunched together, not letting him get the full benefits of “Deliverance of Justice”.

He looked over to see a bloodied and battered Alexandra goring her opponent with her knife, which had shrunk back down to its normal size. Oliver was next to her with his posse of orc zombies, looking worse for the wear as well.

“I think that was a success,” Alistair said, walking over to his companions as Alexandra pulled out her knife from the now-dead orc.

He realized right away that he spoke too soon as every hair on his body stood on end at a new presence.

Alistair slowly turned his head toward the foreboding power he felt graze his perception. He was several blocks away, just a small figure in the distance, yet the identity of the figure was obvious. Kalgur Bykrozz, Prince of the Blood Orcs and boss of his subregion’s monster wave, was staring directly into his eyes.

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