Chapter 28: Chapter 24 – Oath in ashes – Part One

Chapter 24 - Oath in ashes - Part One

 

Garn continued stalking the heavily armoured Revenant from a safe distance as it headed towards the human encampment.

 

The Stealth Ability continued draining his mana at an accelerated rate, the penalty for moving so quickly and reducing enemy perception simultaneously.

 

<Identity confirmed!> The short-range telepathic message echoed through Garn’s mind and automatically relayed to its other-selves. Unlike the telepathy exercised with other Daemons, it was far easier to communicate with oneself, thoughts flowing from one vessel to the next with little impediment.

 

<Slow it down! The Revenant must not be allowed to recuperate!> This message originated from another. Passed along by the prime Garn, the copy recognised that the message originated from Underlord Gric.

 

A silent telepathic ripple of affirmation passed between Garn and its fellow copies.

 

Unlike the other Daemons, Garn was primarily adapted for stealth. With long ropy arms and legs, his body was relatively small giving him a spindly and ungainly appearance. However, assuming Garn was weak would be a fatal mistake. His muscles were like tightly coiled steel and a slap from one of his clawed hands or feet could break a Swamp Lurker’s spine and rupture its internal organs.

 

Unfortunately, without the correct weaponry, there was little hope of doing meaningful damage to the Revenant. However, the Revenant’s minions were another matter entirely.

 

Seemingly raised from the scorched remains of its victims, the minions of the Revenant appeared to be moderately powerful spellcasters in their own right. Fortunately for Garn, they did not appear to be particularly durable.

 

Currently occupied with exterminating the berserk horde of undead, the Revenant’s minions would occasionally be overwhelmed by sheer numbers and bashed to pieces. Although it didn’t seem to bother the Revenant all that much, replacing its minions took time and mana.

 

To destroy one of the minions, even a wooden spear would be sufficient, provided the strike was delivered at the correct time and place.

 

<Moving in!> The message rippled through the group mind and shared a static image of one of the Revenant’s minions on the verge of being overwhelmed, a crude spear raised at the ready in the periphery, poised and ready to strike.

 

Knowing he needed to pull his own weight, Garn sought out a target of his own.

 

[You have slain {Scorched Revenant} +1800 Exp]

 

Garn was about to dismiss the Status Alert, but aeon old instincts drew his attention back to the message. <Scorched Revenant?> Garn queried the collective for confirmation.

 

Almost immediately, a new message tore through the telepathic link, stating simply, <RUN!>

 

For his own part, Garn disengaged without issue, the throngs of slavering undead blind to his presence as he effortlessly leapt over their heads and back towards Sanctuary.

 

Mid leap, a bolt of searing agony lanced through Garn’s right shoulder. Before he could fully process what was happening, the death cry of his other-self reverberated through his mind, throwing him further off balance.

 

<SOUL BURN!> The panicked message echoed through the shared mind space as pain erupted from Garn’s abdomen, driving him to his knees.

 

<Sever connection!> The command came from the Progenitor and carried an undeniable will.

 

Without hesitation or resistance, Garn withdrew a T-shaped spike from a crude pouch at his waist then fiercely drove it through his eye and into his brain.

 

*****

 

With precious time passing by with each moment, I rapidly issued quests to organise a defence for Sanctuary. Even though there would be few besides the Daemons capable of reading the quests, the Daemons would be sufficiently interspersed through the general population to pass along the messages to the relevant leaders.

 

Facing The Destroyer, even if I restricted the fighting to Sanctuary’s elite, was almost certainly going to result in casualties. To be able to throw around such destructive spells so indiscriminately meant that he was on another level entirely.

 

The way I saw it, our best hope was to hole up within Sanctuary itself to make the best use of the Barrier. Even if it didn’t prevent his spellcasting abilities entirely, it might provide enough of a dampener to even the playing field. However, there was a glaring problem with such an approach, namely, it would mean abandoning the isolated army fort to its own fate.

 

“Chieftain Tim!” Cpt. Kristof broke from a nearby cluster of loudly debating officers, “We have confirmation of a hostile Variant approaching Sanctuary! The Colonel want’s to assure you that measures are being taken to evacuate the civilians...But...our portals aren’t working...fighting the Variant appears to be our only way through-”

 

I held up my hand to signal for silence as I prepared another quest. Honestly, I would have very much preferred not to resort to such a thing and was not sure it would even work. However, if my suspicions were correct, The Destroyer would only benefit if I hesitated.

 

A bright flash of light temporarily blinded my eyes, but as the light faded I found Ril and Toofy standing between myself and the gathering officers.

 

With an appearance I assumed would be mistaken for an aquatic Goblin or something similar, Ril stuck close to Toofy and shyly regarded the nearby humans, baring her needle-like teeth in warning as one man drew a little too close.

 

“What Tim want?” Toofy asked curiously, inquisitively scanning the crowd as she pulled Ril a little closer.

 

“Ril, I need you to try and open a portal to the human fortification to the east,” I explained, “We need to get Nadine and the others out of there.”

 

“Ah, Chieftain Tim-” Cpt. Kristof’s interjection stalled abruptly as Ril’s black eyes coldly stared into his own.

 

“Ril will try,” Ril agreed, baring more of her teeth to further intimidate the humans. Without releasing Toofy, Ril began gathering mana towards herself, a visible stream flowing from the direction of the Grove.

 

A vertical tear appeared in the air next to Ril, no more than a foot long and no wider than her finger.

 

Ril frowned and creases appeared on her forehead as she increased her concentration.

 

The tear began to grow, widening to four feet but struggling to expand beyond five feet in height. The tear’s translucence gave way to a rippling reflection of a fountain, revealing a half dozen frightened and surprised human soldiers.

 

“Impossible...” One of the officers gasped.

 

“Ril?” I didn’t want to disturb her concentration, but I needed to know how long the portal would remain open.

 

Ril’s attention remained transfixed on the portal, her lips slowly curling into a snarl.

 

“We have no time to waste!” Lt. Rook dashed through the portal, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before passing through to the other side. Arriving on the opposite side, seemingly unscathed, Lt. Rooke appeared to be issuing orders to the soldiers on the other side, giving them shoves and shouting in their faces to accentuate her words.

 

Broken from his own stupor, Cpt. Kristof began bellowing orders of his own, emphasising clearing the immediate area of all obstructions preparing to receive both refugees and fellow soldiers alike.

 

Loathe to leave Ril with only Toofy for protection and with no telling how long the portal would remain open, I issued a quest and had the Daemons redirect twenty experienced fighters to protect the pair from harm.

 

Contrary to my expectations, the male Gnoll and two of the Deep Orc smiths had tagged along, arriving shortly after the protection detail and bearing gifts.

 

“For Lord! Hehehe,” the Gnoll snickered nervously, offering a large pile of sewn hide.

 

Accepting the hides, some of the pile fell to the ground, revealing that the pile was actually a number of different pieces of armour and a large empty waterskin.

 

“Hehe, I help!” The Gnoll nervously insisted and began hurriedly sorting through the pile. To his credit, it wasn’t nearly as disorganized as it first seemed. The vast majority of the mass was actually what seemed to be a sort of armoured hide robe, split at the sides and front below the waist. Sewn together from the larger hides of the subterranean lizards and the swamp crocs, the armour was further reinforced by multiple layers in key areas, such as the left side of my chest.

 

The remaining articles included thick iron-toe capped boots, gauntlets with protective iron warding plates on the back of the hand and small iron rods aligned over the forearm and wrist. Presumedly, the rods would make it incredibly difficult to sever my wrists, so I was grateful for the additional consideration. The final item was a large hide cap with draping sheets of hide on the sides and back, which I assumed would slow or prevent slashing attacks to my neck.

 

“Lord!” The senior of the two smiths stepped forward and knelt down on one knee as he offered a large crude hammer made entirely of iron.

 

The shaft of the hammer was about as long as my arm. The head was roughly the size of my own fist and had a spiked counterweight on the opposite side that was roughly the size of two of my outstretched fingers held side by side.

 

Being made entirely of iron, the hammer was impressively heavy, although I didn’t seem to have any problems adjusting to the weight compared to my morningstar.

 

Presenting his work in a similar fashion to the first smith, the second held out an iron-bound shield of wood and hide.

 

Gratefully accepting the additional protection, I struggled not to laugh as I realised that they had more or less replicated my first shield, albeit with additional reinforcement. Resembling a large rectangular door, this shield was reinforced by bands of horizontal iron riveted through thick hide into the rough planks of the shields main body. The smiths had even anchored crude spikes the size of my thumb into the shields outer midsection, roughly conforming to the opposite surface of my arm, where they would receive the greatest benefit from my own momentum or that of my enemy.

 

Whilst donning my armour, Gric had been selecting and preparing our elite strikeforce. The Destroyer was an enemy that had to be taken seriously, and as much as I hated the fact, would require risking people I would rather keep as far from harm as possible.

 

Now fully armoured and prepared for battle, I began hastily making my way towards the eastern gate.

 

Soldiers had already begun streaming through the portal, each pair escorting one or more civilians or adventurers, who were in turn put under further watch and escorted away from the portal to a detainment area under Cpt. Kristof’s immediate supervision.

 

Part of my requested strikeforce was already waiting for me. The tall figures of Lash, Dar and Qreet standing out even amongst the other Deep Orcs.

 

Both Daemons wore little in the way of armour, Qreet disguising her appearance with a cloth robe and Dar wearing only a hide loincloth. Only a half foot shorter than myself, Dar resembled a reptilian gorilla on steroids, his thick scale armoured body littered with scars.

 

Lash was wearing her usual iron-plated armour, but now also wore a hide coat beneath it, similar to my own.

 

The Serpent-Kin brothers Hesk and Hessik both held Sanctuary’s banner high, an unmistakable rallying point amidst the relative chaos as children were ferried to the bunkers prepared beneath the Grove and volunteers headed towards the gate. Entering the range of their class ability, I felt an immediate sense of calm wash over my mind.

 

Ushu, although appearing quite unwell, was also in attendance, his attention transfixed on the contents of a small pouch held close to his face. As our most powerful Shaman, there was a slim chance that he could end the fight before it even started, just as he had done with the possessed vendor. I didn’t hold out much hope for that being the case, but it was better to cover all the bases, just in case.

 

Gric had insisted on joining the vanguard as well, but I had refused. Garn, the Daemon Scout had nearly been killed outright when several of his summoned copies were slain by The Destroyer. The Daemons had reluctantly explained that the enemy had a Unique Racial Ability, Soul Burn. The passive Ability allowed the fire-based attacks of the user to deal damage to the soul itself. Since Daemons are the embodiment of their soul, when a copy is damaged by the Ability, the original is as well.

 

Garn’s survival had been attributed to the relative weakness of his copies and their own timely suicides to deny The Destroyer the opportunity to deal further damage to the original. A fact that I was profoundly uncomfortable with. Killing themselves, either through direct combat or by their own hands, it was certain to have a detrimental effect on the Daemons minds over time. This was all the more concerning because I didn't know how long Daemons natural life expectancies were meant to be. The potential for mental derangement or psychosis was a very real possibility if they were allowed to keep doing it. That was one of the reasons why I hadn’t deployed them against the undead, the long term risks had just been far too high.

 

With slight reluctance, I gave Qreet Shiverfang and confirmed the bonding process. Of everyone in the strikeforce, she had the largest mana pool and best physical build to make use of it effectively.

 

Ordering the remaining Daemons to remain in reserve was the closest they had come to open collective mutiny. Most of the Daemons still had little to no self-preservation instinct, and after hearing of the imminent confrontation they had expected and then insisted on being allowed to serve as the tip of the proverbial spear.

 

I hadn’t witnessed the exchanges personally, but felt the intense debate through the telepathic link with Gric as he brought the others to heel. It was only after Gric emphasised the dangerous and important role of serving as the final and most crucial line of defence, that the lesser Daemons seemed truly mollified.

 

It wasn’t a lie either. If our strike force failed, it would be up to those who remained to finish The Destroyer off for good.

 

The Daemons hadn’t been the only ones that needed convincing to stay behind. A hundred or more Serpent-Kin, Deep Orcs and Forest Goblins had insisted on being allowed to join, using the excuse of the Banner Bearers presence as an acceptably low standard for joining.

 

In the process of turning them away, I had reviewed the Statuses of the strike force members to better assuage my doubts. To my surprise, both Dar and I had irregularities that I had not accounted for.

 

My Presence had raised two points and was now seven instead of five. I had not gained any levels, so the best I could figure, I had somehow earned the stat increase in a similar manner to how exercise could increase the physical attributes. Did that mean it was possible to increase my Intelligence and Agility as well?

 

It should not have been as much of a surprise as it had been. Nadine had explained stat improvement to me a long time ago, I guess I had just assumed it was something to be experienced by others and not myself.

 

Dar’s change was the most surprising, somehow, at some point in the past week, he had managed to unlock a Basic Class all on his own without my knowledge. Barbarian, a fitting name for a Class earned by a Daemon like Dar, and the starting Class Abilities only reinforced it.

 

[(Class Ability: Shrug It Off {Rank 0}): Blows that would kill lesser men are but a hindrance to those who have faced death and remained unflinching in their resolve. Ignore the damage from a number of otherwise fatal wounds each day determined by {Toughness} (4:4).]

 

[(Class Ability: Savage Warrior): Armour is for the weak! Your skin and scars are a tapestry of battles won and lost. Wearing less armour provides additional damage resistance from {Toughness}.]

 

The ambiguity of ‘ignore’ was a little worrying, but the additional damage resistance from Savage Warrior was borderline absurd. Depending on how much additional damage resistance the ability offered, it was certainly a more economical option than replacing and repairing armour all the time. The fact that it did not seem to discriminate between types of damage either gave me some small hope that Dar would be able to see his way through the rapidly approaching fight, one way or the other.

 

Seeing the portal close inside of the army’s encampment, I knew our time was up. Leading our strike force back to the central fountain, I instructed everyone to soak themselves in water and fill their water skins. Even though it would probably do little against The Destroyer’s magical flames, every little bit helped and could be the difference between a disfiguring injury and death.

 

Returning to the gate, the Colonel and a cadre of officers were waiting for us.

 

“Chieftain Tim! I beg you to reconsider!” Col. Klive insisted his arms held out either side as if intending to try and stop me by force if necessary. “Our combined forces should prove sufficient to defeat the hostile Variant! Facing it in the open is-”

 

“The only way to avoid catastrophic loss of life,” I interrupted bluntly. Our elite forces were the only ones capable of even harming him, so allowing The Destroyer inside of Sanctuary proper would allow for guerilla warfare, it also allowed The Destroyer free rein to go on a killing spree. So as much as it terrified me to place people I cared about in danger, it was by far the better option when considered objectively. In both instances, they would be in danger, but at least in the strikeforce, there would be less collateral damage.

 

Col. Klive winced but seemed no less insistent. “This Variant can be defeated without you personally risking your life! We were originally deployed to put this Variant down and have made preparations to do just that. So please, do not sortie against the hostile Variant until we have had a chance to take care of it!” A bright flash of orange light filtered through the briar wall as if to accentuate his point.

 

Already mentally strained by the prospect of putting Lash and the others in danger, I reluctantly relented, “Fine. What are you going to do?” If the Colonel’s plan involved allowing The Destroyer inside of Sanctuary, then I intended to go through with my own plan as originally intended.

 

Visibly relieved, Col. Klive motioned for one of the other officers to step forward.

 

“Chieftain,” The officer, a Captain with a long ropey scar running down the left side of his face, bowed and then motioned to a platoon of soldiers approaching the gate, “My men and I have been equipped with powerful magical weapons and armour in addition to precious consumable items. We will draw the hostile Variant in closer and then put it down before it realises the danger it is in.” The Captain straightened his back and stared me straight in the eyes, “We are very good at what we do. This is not the first time we have had to put a powerful Variant down,” ‘and it won’t be the last’ lingered unspoken.

 

Taking another look at the Captain and his men, their equipment did look a little strange compared to the soldiers I was used to dealing with. It was obvious that attempts had been made to make them appear more uniform, but even so, no two soldiers' equipment were the same. With no way to externally determine their levels, I could make judgements based on their height and build.

 

Less disciplined than the rank and file, the special squad carried themselves with a confidence and surety I had previously only associated with adventurers unwinding in the first-floor inn. Not limited to men, perhaps a third of the special squad was comprised of tall women. Every member of the squad had scars visible on segments of skin not fully covered by their armour.

 

If there was time, I would have demanded a small contest of sorts to try and determine the soldiers’ general capabilities, but there was no time left to spare on something so frivolous. “You are confident?” It was more a statement than a question. To judge by their appearance, the special squad and their commanding officer seemed to think they had already won.

 

I still couldn’t dismiss my doubts. I had seen humans struggle to fight back Goblins in a one on one fight, and this Variant was almost certainly an Awakened like me. Which meant that he probably had all manner of tricks of his own. From what Hana had told me, the sick bastard had simply been playing with her and her family, dragging the fight out on purpose for his own sick amusement.

 

Regarding the special squad again, I was reminded of yet another limiting factor. They were all limited to Basic Classes. Not that Basic Classes were bad, but Advanced Classes could easily be considered twice as powerful right out of the gate. Given humans' distinct lack of natural advantages, I could not bring myself to share the Captain’s optimism.

 

Before the Captain of the special squad could reply, Col. Klive beat him to it, “The Asrusian kingdom employs a formal standing army. That means our soldiers are men and women who have chosen the military life, being a soldier, as their lifelong profession,” quite possibly an embellishment, I could see the Colonel was trying to reassure me by insinuating that his quality of soldiers, and by extension their skill, should be considered superior to my tribal militia. “I know you have concerns regarding our comparative frailty compared to monsters such as yourself, but we have been fighting the monsters of the Labyrinths for untold generations and are still standing. Do you understand?”

 

I sighed and nodded, although I was not convinced in the slightest. “If we fight together, our chances of succeeding with minimal losses would improve,” I countered, hoping that the military men would see reason. Lash’s Bastion ability could repel spells and would prove invaluable against an enemy that seemed to specialize in spellcasting. “I insist!” I had an incredibly bad feeling about this fight already and refused to make it easier for the enemy than necessary.

 

The Captain scowled and gave Col. Klive a weighty look.

 

I had seen too many movies and T.V. shows to commit to such a stupid mistake. “You want to engage the Variant first? Fine. My strike force will remain in reserve and observe. If I think the enemy is beyond your soldiers’ ability to put down without losses, my strike force will join the fight as reinforcements, agreed?” It was an easy compromise, but both officers seemed dissatisfied for different reasons. The Colonel obviously didn’t want me in harm's way, for fear of losing his established trading partner. While the Captain felt insulted that I would so openly question the competency of his specially trained and outfitted soldiers.

 

Recognising that I was not going to change my mind, Col. Klive reluctantly agreed and the Captain submitted to the chain of command.

 

Fifteen of the specially armed soldiers were Spearman and Swordsman, while the remaining five and the Captain himself were Archers. Each of them were equipped with a magic dampening item of one form or another. One soldier had a small round shield that granted fire resistance, while another had a necklace that provided a lesser but more general magic resistance. In addition to their resistance items, every soldier's primary weapon was magical, but unfortunately, none of them were able to ignore or bypass armour like Shiverfang.

 

The Captain seemed confident that the special armour penetrating attacks of each Class would be sufficient to bring The Destroyer down. I still had my doubts and was glad the smiths had added the spike onto my iron warhammer. Even though it was not magical, sheer concussive force concentrated into a sufficiently limited area would still deal damage. It was a lesson I had learned from the Goblin Raid and would not forget any time soon.

 

As we marched out of the gatehouse, I half expected Clarice to come charging after us and demand to be brought along. Of course, I had already taken steps to avoid that by tasking the Daemons in reserve to keep Clarice and the other girls in a safe place to watch over Toofy and Ril.

 

With the combined available synergies of every monster in Sanctuary, I felt like my strike force, not the specially armed soldiers, would be the determining factor in this battle.

 

The thus-far unique Racial ability of the Gnolls, in particular, would likely prove rather telling in terms of raw damage output.

 

[(Racial Ability: Pack Frenzy {Rank 3}): Deal additional damage for each ally within range of a Bloodied Enemy. {Presence} increases the range of the effect.]

 

I had considered bringing Orphiel, but preferred keeping him in reserve as an emergency healer. There were limits to what the Surgeons could do, but Orphiel's Racial Ability could bring someone back from the brink and give the Surgeons a chance at saving them, albeit at a price.

 

Knowing that the enemy seemed to specialize or at least be adept at utilizing area of effect spells, the Captain deployed his men in a loose formation, spacing them more then ten feet apart from one another but still remaining within Sanctuary’s barrier. This felt like another mistake, although I wasn’t quite sure why.

 

My strike force remained relatively close to one another, only a few feet between each of us with myself and Lash at the forefront. Ushu and the Banner Bearers were at the rear and expected not to engage unless absolutely necessary, or in Ushu’s case, if the right opportunity presented itself. Qreet and Dar had naturally drifted to the flanks, with the latter providing cover for those behind.

 

“He is coming, Lord,” Qreet hissed irritably, a faint aura of emerald mana emanating from beneath her robe and shining brightly from her eyes. “The undead are few, scattered or destroyed...I sense no signs of the Necromancer...”

 

I frowned and nodded. Jacque had said something like this would happen. The Awakened would hunt each other down and fight for dominance, highlander style, leaving only the victor and the dead. “How many minions?” I asked, wanting to confirm a budding theory.

 

Qreet remained silent for a few moments. “Four,” she replied uncertainly, “I apologize Lord, I am not as skilled as the Overseer...”

 

“You are doing fine Qreet, and with Garn out of commission, you are doing far better than I have a right to expect of you,” I admitted truthfully.

 

“Plan still good?” Lash asked excitedly, her fingers tightening on the haft of her axe.

 

I nodded and tried to project more confidence than I felt. The plan was simple. Lash and I would bring the fight to The Destroyer up close while Qreet manipulated the battlefield to give us cover or block line of sight at crucial moments, and if possible, make opportunistic attacks with Shiverfang. Dar would play a sort of skirmishing role as needed, focusing on taking down the enemy minions and intercepting attacks against Ushu and the Banner Bearers. The Banner Bearers would be doing their best to remain visible and provide their buffs, while hopefully avoiding enemy attacks. And finally, Ushu would attempt Banishing The Destroyer in much the same way as he had with the evil spirit possessing the tailor vendor.

 

There was a lot that could go wrong with our plan, but ultimately I felt like it was our best chance at success without committing to potentially hundreds of casualties. Lash’s Bastion Ability would be the true determining factor. If it turned out to be the natural counter I hoped it to be, then there was a good chance of everyone walking away from the fight with only minor injuries. Qreet’s environmental control would play a key role as well. According to Ushu, most Spirit type monsters replenished their mana through draining their victims, and that there was a very good chance that the swamp beyond the battlefield was littered with drained manastones from all the destroyed undead.

 

Qreet began preemptively shifting the terrain to offer potential bolt holes against ranged attacks as well as creating natural barriers to redirect and funnel protracted gouts of fire. Made from wet wood and moss, the defences would hopefully be capable of initially resisting The Destroyer's flames and provide a tactical advantage.

 

You are reading story Ogre Tyrant at novel35.com

“He is here,” Qreet hissed, her free hand twitching as she stared pointedly to the east.

 

A dull haze of amber light signalled the final approach of The Destroyer and his minions. Seemingly above any attempt at subterfuge, all four minions flanked their master, trailing a short distance behind and flaring slightly out to his flanks.

 

Not above making use of the tactical terrain Qreet had provided, the Captain motioned for his men to take cover.

 

Similarly, I motioned for the Banner Bearers and Ushu to do the same. So long as the banner was visible, that was the main thing that mattered, and I sincerely doubted this guy would intentionally waste time damaging it without knowing what it does.

 

Stepping out from the fog of the swamp, the armoured form of The Destroyer took a provocative stance and stared at the gatehouse behind us. “Only made of wood?” His voice was like crackling embers, yet still managed to sound arrogant and condescending despite his limited vocal range. “Oh well, guess it makes the home stretch that much faster hehe,” he raised his right hand and pointed his index finger towards the gate, intense amber mana coalescing around his hand.

 

“HEY!” I roared in challenge.

 

The animated suit of armour shifted its focus to myself and the strike force, “Maybe a final boss?” despite being intended as a whisper, his voice carried well enough in the relative quiet to be heard quite clearly. “Alright, I’m game,” The Destroyer chuckled, “Go on then, give me the whole spiel then!” He demanded, flames fanning from the joints in his armoured body.

 

“Huh?” I had thought I was prepared for just about anything, but his strange responses kind of threw me for a moment.

 

“Hrmpf,” The Destroyer shook his head and snorted derisively, “Maybe you aren’t the final boss after all?”

 

“Final boss?” I felt a cold chill run down my spine, the carefree way he had said those words... “What do you mean?” I demanded.

 

The Destroyer lazily began walking closer, allowing the scorched and twisted forms of his minions to now become visible. “Well,” he looked back over his right shoulder and then back towards Sanctuary, “You’re all that’s left, I killed everyone else. Once I am done with you and your pathetic village, I will move on and find the next level,” the casual way he said it and the faint tone of pride in his voice repulsed me. “Hey, you know, I probably wouldn’t have found you and that other guy if you hadn’t taken in that girl you know? Hehe, maybe that other one is here too?”

 

“Now!” The Captain barked.

 

A volley of six arrows raced towards The Destroyer, but a sudden flash of amber light right before impact forced me to close my eyes.

 

“Oh? So this is where those soldiers went. I wondered why their camp was so empty...” The Destroyer redirected his outstretched finger from the gate towards the soldiers instead. There was no sign that the arrows had managed to inflict any damage at all. A radiant bead of amber mana raced from his outstretched finger towards the position of the closest soldier.

 

*BOOOM!*

 

The soldier managed to leap behind cover, but was blown backwards as that portion of roots and moss was torn apart in a deadly explosion.

 

The Destroyer appeared to be quizzically regarding his hand, “Huh? Though for sure I put way more juice into it than that?”

 

It was the barrier. As destructive as his spell had been, Sanctuary’s barrier had diminished it, and apparently enough that it literally gave The Destroyer pause.

 

“CHARGE!” I roared, wanting to make the most of the opening provided us.

 

The Destroyer’s attention immediately shifted to me, all four of his minions simultaneously releasing spells of their own.

 

Dar leapt up into the air, hurtling up and over the ground between us and the enemy.

 

Lash released a pulse of light, signalling her first use of Bastion as she matched step with my charge towards The Destroyer, the fiery projectiles of his minions sputtering into nothing as they made contact.

 

No doubt caught off guard, The Destroyer barely managed to raise an arm to defend himself as I brought my warhammer crashing down towards his head with all my might, pumping as much mana into the blow as I dared.

 

*BANG!*

 

The blow drove The Destroyer to the ground.

 

“YAH!” Lash brought her axe down in a double-handed blow on the back of his helmet sending sparks flying as the blade of the axe scraped and skipped over the harder metal.

 

“OVERSEER! BROTHER! SISTER! LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH!” Qreet cried from somewhere behind us as thick roots tore out of the ground and crashed over The Destroyer’s limbs.

 

Raising my arm for another blow, I brought my warhammer down with as much might as I could muster, this time aiming for the square of his back, unwilling to trust my badly shaking arm to remain accurate enough to land a solid blow on the curved surface of the helmet.

 

*BANG!*

 

Lash raised her axe to strike again.

 

“FUCKING OW!” A sudden blast of intense heat sent both Lash and myself sprawling as the roots binding The Destroyer withered and caught ablaze.

 

*Thump!*

 

[Dar has slain {Scorched Revenant} +1800 Exp]

 

“GRAH!” Dar bellowed a challenging roar as he raced towards his next target, the first Scorched Revenant having proven weak enough to destroy through bodily crashing into it moments earlier.

 

Lash got to her feet first and spared a moment to help me up as well.

 

The Destroyer was still lying face down on the ground, only now he was in the centre of a shallow smouldering crater. “Ganking pieces of shit...” He cursed quietly, each syllable so laden with venom and bile it was clear he meant every word. “Take this!” The Destroyer raised himself up on one elbow, the flame-filled eye slits of his helmet glaring balefully at me as a rainbow coloured ribbon of light appeared between us.

 

A hole the size of my fist appeared in my shield, the rainbow ribbon of light halting an inch from my chest as the edge of a violet sphere connected and dissipated it.

 

“BULLSHIT?!” The Destroyer screamed, “THERE IS NO WAY THAT SHOULDN'T HAVE KILLED YOU!”

 

“CHARGE!” The Captain and his men had rallied and charged towards The Destroyer.

 

“OH FUCK OFF!” The Destroyer screamed, still prone, he swiped his arm and generated a rolling wall of flames.

 

“WEDGE!” The Captain roared, raising his shield and angling it up and to the side as he maintained the forward momentum of the charge, his infantry following suit as the Archer’s dove into nearby cover.

 

The wall of fire swept over the soldiers, causing them to falter but not fall, mundane elements of their equipment blackening under the intense heat.

 

*Twing, shing, clang, clank...”

 

The soldiers fell upon The Destroyer with zealous abandon, their weapons rising and falling in rapid succession.

 

“Lash!” I motioned for her to move forward and she grimly nodded in understanding a violet sphere of mana erupting from her chest and expanding outwards as we closed the final distance.

 

“I-SAID-FUCK-OFF!!!” The Destroyer screamed, each syllable accompanied by a wall of fire or point-blank explosion, seemingly uncaring about harming himself with collateral damage.

 

Three soldiers were incinerated where they stood, two more fell to the ground screaming in pain, Lash’s Bastion arriving too late to save them from the flames.

 

“CHEATING MOTHER FUCKERS!!!” The Destroyer’s left leg was sunken into the hard-baked ground, revealing why he had been unable to rise from his prone position, furthermore, charred and blackened roots were determinedly forcing their way through the riveted plates of the chestplate.

 

“LORD!” Dar cried out in alarm, giving me just enough time to draw Lash back behind me and raise my shield.

 

Two of The Destroyer’s minions had begun charging towards their master, their bodies flashing bright with unstable amber mana.

 

*BANG! Bang!*

 

The twinned explosions sent lash and I flailing backwards as we were bombarded by the superheated air and airborne debris.

 

[Dar has slain {Scorched Revenant} +1800 Exp], [Dar has slain {Scorched Revenant} +1800 Exp]

 

The Captain and his infantry lay scattered around the surrounding area, their bodies being dragged into crude shelters by roots and branches, living and dead alike, Qreet was making no real distinction and it quickly became obvious why.

 

“DESTROYER!!!” Spoken by five voices in rough harmony, the single word was accompanied by the shaking and tremors of every plant in the immediate vicinity. Qreet had formed an armoured exterior from the local vegetation, swelling her size to more than twenty feet tall, a blinding cloak of emerald mana saturating her temporary form and her surroundings. Genuinely surprised she could manage such a feat, I noticed a thick cabled braid of four similar yet distinct emerald cords of mana trailing back in the direction of the Grove.

 

“YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU TOOK FROM US!!!” Qreet’s reinforced form stalked slowly yet determinedly forward, her body growing with each step and taking on a more refined form, Shiverfang clutched tight and raised high like a dagger in the right hand.

 

“Lash!” I shoved myself to my feet and looked back to make sure she was alright.

 

“Good to fight!” Lash replied, shoving herself to her feet and looking around for a weapon.

 

I pressed the warhammer into her hands and looked back towards The Destroyer. There were a few magical weapons lying nearby, but I wanted to try something else.

 

[Dar has slain {Scorched Revenant} +1800 Exp]

 

The final kill alert came at just the right time. “DAR! With me!” I roared and surged forwards.

 

The explosions had apparently freed The Destroyer from his partial entombment and he now staggered to his feet, stumbling slightly and nearly falling over as his attention drifted towards the towering form of Qreet approaching from the rear. The Destroyer raised both hands and directed his palms towards Qreet, “HOLOCAUST!”

 

“LA-” Halfway through saying her name, the air I needed to breathe disappeared.

 

*FWOOOOOOSH!*

 

A tsunami of fire flooded from The Destroyer’s outstretched hands, rapidly reaching over fifty feet, the flames would pass over the briar wall and wash Sanctuary away.

 

Bunching the muscles in both arms, I strained my body to its limit focusing every ounce of mana I had left into my hands. Already quite damaged, the dried and cracked shield straps snapped and my shield fell to the side. Stepping forward I opened my arms wide and faced the oncoming flames. Just as I was about to be overrun, Lash’s protective barrier washed over me and signalled my time to act.

 

*BOOOOOM*

 

I brought my hands together with a deafening thunderclap, pain flaring up my arms and then immediately disappearing as the damaged nerves overloaded and entered a state of shock.

 

The colossal wall of fire collapsed in on itself, drawn to the vacuum created by my desperate thunderclap.

 

Unable to feel my arms, my exposed hands looked bloodied and raw. I determinedly took a step forwards across the scorched ground, watching with pride as Dar bodily tackled The Destroyer to the ground once again. Daemons were nothing if not determined.

 

“Lash!” I croaked, looking back for a moment to make sure I had her attention and then jerking my head towards Dar.

 

Lash nodded in understanding and charged across the open ground, the warhammer raised high.

 

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?!” The Destroyer shrieked as he tried and failed to free himself from Dar’s crushing embrace.

 

Anchored by the tree roots snaking up his own legs, Dar seemed to effortlessly lockdown The Destroyer's right arm and body.

 

“LET ME GO Y-” The Destroyer’s voice cut off abruptly as Lash slammed the warhammer into his chest, spike first. Although it left only a tiny dent the reaction did not seem to match the level of damage as a gout of fire erupted from The Destroyer’s helmet, accompanied by a howl of pain.

 

Lash dodged to the side and Dar manhandled The Destroyer’s head to ensure neither was directly hit by the flames.

 

“BURN YOU FUCKERS!” The Destroyer howled, the air rippling around his body as the air became superheated, “LET ME GO!!!”

 

Dar tightened his grip further, his scaled hide smoking in places where it made direct contact with Destroyer’s body. However, this did not seem entirely to Dar’s detriment, whether it was a result of hating his own body and inadvertently making the metal more malleable or whether Dar had just entered a Bloodied state and was now dealing additional damage from the Deep Orc Racial Ability, The Destroyers armoured body began to buckle beneath his tightening grip.

 

*Clang*

 

Lash slammed the spike of the warhammer into The Destroyer’s chest again.

 

“AHH! LEMME GO!” The Destroyer howled again, this time scrambling his left arm and pressing it against the side of Dar’s head. A scintillating rainbow of colour radiated from beneath his hand, but Dar did not loosen his grip, instead, drawing the armoured body tighter and tighter stil. “THE FUCK?! HOW CAN THE DEVS ALLOW BROKEN SHIT LIKE THIS INTO THE GAME?!”

 

His words sent another chill down my spine, almost causing me to lose my already painfully slow forward momentum. Did he think this was some sort of game? Could someone kill so many people...destroy so many lives...”No!” I shook my head and refocused on our objective. This man was a psycho and needed to be put down, that was all there was to it. If I allowed myself to dwell on it, there was no telling whether I would be able to find any answers that would satisfy me anyway.

 

*Clank*

 

Lash’s latest blow had severely dented the chestpiece, now forming a dent an inch or two deep and three inches wide. There was now a good chance that her next strike would penetrate.

 

Qreet’s composite vegetation form had now reached striking distance and was preparing to deliver a strike of its own.

 

Perhaps finally realising the danger he was in, The Destroyer began struggling in earnest, releasing scattered scorching rays of fire and point-blank detonations in an attempt to free himself.

 

Unfortunately, Lash seemed to be able to anticipate the majority of his attacks and was matching them with hastily generated barriers, heavily mitigating or outright nullifying their effects.

 

Emerald mana gathered around Shiverfang’s blade and Qreet slammed it into The Destroyer’s belly.

 

The Destroyer screamed in pain.

 

Qreet struck again.

 

“LOG OUT! LOG OUT!!” The Destroyer howled.

 

Lash repositioned and slammed the warhammer into the same spot, eliciting another wordless howl as the hole was torn wider.

 

Taking a firm grip of both The Destroyer’s legs, Qreet forced him into a horizontal position and levelled Shiverfang above his crotch plate.

 

“DISCONNECT! DISCONNECT!!! SHUTDOWN!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!” The Destroyer screamed in panic.

 

As shocked by what I was witnessing as hearing, the thought didn’t even cross my mind to try and stop it.

 

“NONONONO-AAAEEIII!!” The Destroyer’s screams raised an octave as Qreet slammed Shiverfang into his groin and then slowly began sawing it up and through his abdomen.

 

Visibly fatigued, Lash staggered backwards and nearly knocked me over as she pulled off her helmet.

 

Having regained some feeling in my arms, I managed to keep my footing by numbly grabbing her arm.

 

Flushed with adrenaline, Lash turned on me with a snarl, although she became momentarily confused before fully recognising me.

 

I pulled the large water skin from my waist and pressed it into her hands instantly.

 

Lash nodded breathlessly and gulped down five deep mouthfuls of water before splashing it over her face and down the inside of her armour, “Hot...” Lash croaked and then looked guiltily over at the pair of Daemons still determinedly working at putting The Destroyer down.

 

“I-” I coughed abruptly as I accidentally inhaled some airborne ash, “You have one too,” I reminded her and patted the pouch of water on her own hip only to meet with little resistance.

 

“Empty,” Lash grunted with a shrug, gulping down another mouthful of water before handing my water skin back, only now much lighter.

 

The Destroyer’s pitiful wails were suddenly cut short, drawing both Lash’s and my attention.

 

Qreet had split his armour from crotch to collar, ripping the chest apart from inside with thick roots and branches, giving the appearance of his body writhing and shuddering as amber mana disgorged from the gaping hole.

 

Lash grabbed my shoulder and pointed upwards with a worried growl.

 

Following the trail of amber mana towards where Lash was pointing, I felt a heavy weight settling on my shoulders.

 

A humanoid form was taking shape from the disgorged mana, and it looked pissed.

 

With no sign of a kill notification, it was abundantly clear that our fight against The Destroyer was only beginning.

You can find story with these keywords: Ogre Tyrant, Read Ogre Tyrant, Ogre Tyrant novel, Ogre Tyrant book, Ogre Tyrant story, Ogre Tyrant full, Ogre Tyrant Latest Chapter