Chapter 133
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: King of the Orcs (6)
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The axe swung with full force from straight ahead plummeted down onto Cain's head with the precision of a lightning bolt. There was no dodging it—it was too fast.
Cain gritted his teeth and raised his sword. In the instant it clashed with the axe, he finally understood what it felt like to be a nail under the hammer.
He had defended with everything he had. Yet sheer brute strength alone drove both his legs slamming into the ground.
"Krahaha! Ahahaha!!"
'He's completely lost it. Or maybe that's just how orcs are.'
Like he'd forgotten how to speak, Urdan was consumed by mad laughter. It might have been tolerable if it ended there.
But the real problem was that he was getting faster. Stronger. Was this the desperation his foes felt during Defeat Regression?
No way this bastard had Defeat Regression too. If he did, he wouldn't be enjoying the fight like this.
"Hup! Haat!!"
"What the fuck!!"
The empowered shout barely registered before the impact hit first. The guy's speed was outpacing sound itself.
Coldly, objectively speaking... he couldn't win like this. Their growth rates were too damn similar.
Identical, or maybe a hair's breadth apart. That infinitesimal gap made it impossible to surpass him. Cain gritted his teeth. He wouldn't give up.
True despair began to seep in for the first time in ages. His limbs grew heavy, the sword feeling like dead weight he wanted to drop and abandon.
But he carried too much to quit here. Morgana. Anna. His men.
Responsibility. It was that single emotion alone that had carried him this far. An invisible, subtle trait—but one of immeasurable importance.
"Krahaha!"
"Urk...!!!"
Yet responsibility could only help him endure this moment. It couldn't propel him further.
What he needed now was raw power. Overwhelming force to crush the mighty enemy before his eyes. And in that instant...
The scales sprouting across Cain's body began to swell, devouring his desperate craving for strength.
The Emperor's axe crashed down onto Cain's shoulder. He'd switched targets from the head at the last second.
Kwaang!!
But where his shoulder would normally have been sliced clean off like a hunk of meat, this time... it held.
"Hoo, quite sturdy. Never thought anyone besides a boulder could take my axe head-on like that."
"......"
For once, the Emperor had dropped his laughter and regained his composure, but Cain had no reply. He didn't know himself.
In that split second of impact, he'd felt something alien in his shoulder. Not his armor... something else.
A hard, rigid something erupting from his skin. A horrific, unnatural sensation. Only one culprit came to mind.
'The scales from slaying the serpent dragon. Are they functioning as armor? But were they ever that tough?'
The serpent dragon's strength was undeniable. But could its scales really withstand the Emperor's blow? Somehow, he doubted it.
Considering how easily his own strikes had carved through the serpent dragon's hide, it should've been shredded.
Yet right now, those scales were holding firm. Not perfectly, of course.
He could feel hot blood trickling between the alien protrusions. No clean cut, but he'd still taken damage.
'No clue what's happening to my body right now. But it's a damn welcome change for the moment.'
Unfortunately, even the best-laid plans were worthless without success. The serpent dragon's power was undeniably ominous.
But if he couldn't overcome the Emperor now, there'd be no future to worry about. Survival came first.
Cain took a quiet, deep breath. He steadied his churning heart, then faced the reality before him.
The Emperor. An insurmountable wall with his current strength. To climb it, he'd have to roll the dice.
"I admit it. You're filthy strong. The strongest bastard I've ever faced."
"What about the Empire's Sword Demon? They say she's on par with the Martial God..."
"We never went at each other with killing intent. No need for a deathmatch. And I hope it stays that way."
Hands only clap when they collide. Without murderous intent, there was no true clash to settle.
Meeting the Sword Demon as enemies would've made for a nightmare worse than this Emperor. Better to pray it never happened.
Cain's black pupils gradually shifted to a sharp, predatory yellow. Eyes akin to a dragon's.
"Apologize in advance. No idea what happens next..."
He truly had no clue.
No one knew how orcs came to worship dragons. There were no records tying them to dragons at all.
Nor did they have some indigenous faith centered on a dragon god. And yet, orcs revered dragons.
To the clueless outsider, that's how it appeared. Sadly, the premise was dead wrong from the start.
Orcs didn't worship dragons. Sure, their shamans desperately tried to summon them—but not out of some archaic plea for wishes or boons.
It was so they could kill the dragons themselves. Dragons were a race of legend. If they existed, they'd make opponents worthy of the challenge.
'Of course, I hadn't expected to actually see one at this point...'
The Emperor Urdan had once been like any young orc, committing every wild folly imaginable just to challenge a dragon.
Alas, no dragon ever appeared. Were they cowering in fear? Or had they never existed to begin with?
Why was that impulsive youth suddenly coming back to him now? Urdan blinked vacantly, lost in thought.
'Never imagined I'd be the one sent tumbling in a straight-up clash. Feels like ages since the Martial God.'
Urdan lay sprawled on the ground, a sight unworthy of his title. But humiliation? Not even a hint.
How could it be humiliating? His foe wasn't some ordinary human—he was a dragon straight out of legend!!
Urdan's heart pounded fiercely. How long had it been since he'd traded the throne for the challenger's mantle?
"Can't even call it splendid anymore. I'm the challenger now."
"......"
"No need for words, huh? Solid stance."
The air shifted.
To be precise, his form had changed too. His frame seemed slightly bulkier than before, and most tellingly, his eyes.
They'd started as ordinary human eyes. Now they churned like the gaze of a cataclysmic storm.
Instinct screamed the truth: those were dragon eyes. Was some long-dormant instinct finally stirring?
"No idea what you did, but you're stronger than I imagined. Still, I can see your body hitting its limit."
"......"
"You're barely clinging to reason. If I just stall, I'll win—but where's the point in that?"
The Emperor. One of the alliance's elite masters, whispered to possibly eclipse even the Martial God someday.
True to his reputation, he zeroed in on the weakness instantly. The sheer power was undeniable.
But the body couldn't sustain it—crumbling bit by bit. Stall, and he'd self-destruct.
Yet he couldn't. It wasn't pity. He simply couldn't contain his burning yearning.
The dragon he'd craved to challenge his whole life stood right there. No second chances.
Squander this priceless opportunity on a dull slog? Play petty games? As if!
"Now I get why the Sea King abandoned his throne at the end and reverted to beast."
"......"
"Come. I'll shed my kingly title too. And challenge you as a warrior."
No sooner had Urdan, reverted to warrior, declared this than they charged—neither yielding the first move.
Kwaaaang!!!
Axe met fist. Not anyone else—no, a mere fist repelled the orc Emperor's axe through raw power alone.
To be exact, it wasn't ordinary flesh anymore. Cain's hand was fully sheathed in ominous black scales.
They'd drunk deep of the blood from his wounds, mutating to a dark crimson. And still, the transformation raged on.
A straight thrust incoming. No blind spots, no feints—just pure speed on another level entirely.
"......No clue how long it's been since I last bled like this. Yes, a real fight demands blood from both sides."
Untouched by blood since mastering his art, now his shoulder bore a gash—and freely bled.
Yet Urdan gripped his axe tighter, face deadly serious. No more games.
Fight. Until one lay dead.