The Battle's End
Tiny had sacrificed his beloved hammer, and the results were undeniable. Right before his eyes, one of the Death Knights' skeletal horses was utterly pulverized and vanished. That alone had significantly weakened the battle prowess of their most formidable monster, a clear victory. But an even greater variable emerged.
The Stamp that the Death Knight had flung away upon impact. The shockwave veered to one side, sending its fragments raining down on Nergui. And those shards carried a portion of the brute destructive force that had even partially offset the dark aura.
Of course, Nergui blocked most of it with a surge of demonic energy he'd hastily gathered. But a few fragments pierced straight into his eyes.
“Gaaahhh!”
Nergui had been pressuring Zerik alongside the two Death Knights, but his true role—far more vital than swinging his weapon—was anchoring the dark ritual that controlled every orc warrior around them. Suddenly gravely wounded and tumbling, he instinctively lost his grip on that dark ritual.
And the consequence was immediate.
“Kyaaak!”
“Krra!!”
“Tskvo!!”
“Ul tskvgr yoadkzEul!”
The orc warriors, who had shaken off their disruptors and charged mindlessly at Zerik, now swung their weapons indiscriminately at anyone nearby.
The enemy's totem(?) lay shattered, their distracting forces dwindled, and one major foe's strength was diminished. Yet Zerik's situation worsened.
Boom!
Cough.
“Damn it!”
Kwaaang!
Zerik spat a mouthful of blood and bellowed in rage.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
They wielded a power akin to aura, marking them as superhumans, but they lacked the soul's dignity and any spark of reason. Moreover, Zerik surpassed them in strength, speed, and skill. They shouldn't have been a match.
Right. If not for this filthy energy seeping into his body, corroding his mana flow.
Is this what that kid warned me about?
The advice he'd dismissed because it seemed too straightforward now struck like a dagger to the bone. He'd noticed subtle anomalies after a few exchanges. Then his mana flow disrupted, his aura tangled, and a blow landed—after that, he'd been on the defensive. The insidious energy invading his mana relentlessly sabotaged its normal circulation.
Worse, it impaired his aura manifestation. Facing superhuman foes in that state was impossible.
At least there was one mercy.
“I'll assist you.”
A voice using polite speech utterly out of place on the battlefield, accompanied by a silver mana blade shimmering with icy blue light, slipped into the enemies' blind spots.
Clang!
A shadowy figure emerged silently from the darkness, employing bizarre tactics, and began aiding him. Both appeared human, both Challenger-grade powerhouses. Zerik had no idea who they were, but now wasn't the time to be picky.
“Damn it all!!”
Kwaaaang!
He forcibly squeezed out his aura to repel the two Death Knights again.
If that black energy was the dark aura Tiny mentioned, these Challenger-grade allies couldn't handle it head-on.
Direct clash means instant death or incapacitation.
Tiny was the exception, having rammed one head-on and reverse-summoned its mount moments ago. Ultimately, Zerik had to block their assaults and land the decisive blows.
The masked figure struck only the gaps amid the swirling dark aura behind the Death Knights he'd repelled. The knight froze only the legs of the Death Knights and their skeletal horses. They clearly understood the power gap, sticking strictly to support roles.
Both wielded specialized attributes and excelled in speed, making it devastatingly effective.
— Intruder!
— Kill!
Kwaaaang!
Except when Tiny had ambushed from behind, they'd ignored everyone, fixating solely on him. Now, they turned their blades toward the allies. They deemed the pair greater threats—for the moment.
And that wounded Zerik's pride. A sense of defeat he hadn't felt in decades.
“You bastards!!!”
He raged at the foes, but it was closer to self-loathing. How could he, with such lofty pride, fail to crush these wretches in one go? How had he strutted so arrogantly?
Pathetic, Zerik. Is this why you chose ascetic trials?
The fierce battle lust—stronger than any orc's—suppressed by faith in the law and self-pride, erupted.
“Kraaaah!”
The moment Zerik's small yellow eyes flushed red with fury, instinct transcended reason. It bypassed the brief patterned aura generation, manifesting destructive aura through sheer will alone. The dark aura remnants churning inside no longer hindered him.
The silver aura surging forth shone brighter, larger, fiercer than when his reason held sway. His ingrained battle style unleashed it fully, charging the foes headlong.
Zerik-style axe slaughter: Full Moon Cleave.
Flash.
A silver moon seemed to rise over the midday plain. The two Death Knights, sensing peril, erupted with explosive demonic energy within that massive full moon's radius.
And then.
Kwaaaaaang!
Rumble rumble.
The fiercest explosion yet, shockwaves spreading, dirt flying. Amid the chaos, Zerik's senses caught one Death Knight's body pulverized to dust, the other's skeletal horse disintegrating.
But that was it.
Just a bit more! Just a little!
Despite his desperate wish, depleted stamina and mana refused more. Kwaaang!
The remaining Death Knight, rapidly recovering, charged with a dark aura-laced spear thrust. Zerik felt it keenly but was paralyzed by sudden emptiness.
Huh…
He realized he'd broken his decade-plus stagnation, reaching Aura Exceeder. But before joy settled, death loomed.
As dust settled, black armor appeared, twin blue flames glowing in the helm. The unknown black spear—thrust lightly yet heavily—spewed dark aura from its tip.
Time slowed; every frame etched crystal clear, the world crawling. Yet his exhausted body ignored his will. Only the throbbing suppressed dark aura inside felt vivid.
Is this my end?
Wrath mingled with resignation—an indescribable mood. Self-reflection revealed why: regret for this final blunder, but none for his life. That complex heart tipped one way.
I lived fiercely. No regrets.
The approaching spear tip, dark aura's eerie glow, held no terror. True to an orc warrior's pinnacle, he'd preferred dying in battle over bedridden old age. This felt fortunate now.
Ancestors, receive me.
Transcendent calm brought a smile. In slowed time, a black-haired human darted forward.
Hm?
Wielding a shaft with bizarre black spheres attached, blocking dark aura. Insane, yet the human's backward glance scolded him. Slow lips formed clear words.
You're smiling now? You fucking idiot…
…What the hell, you punk!?
Surge of fury shattered serenity.
Cheeeeeeng!
Woooong.
Glass-shattering clamor and violent tremor snapped the world back to normal.
— Kill.
Target. Kill.
Intruder.
Grind grind grind.
The Death Knight advanced with murderous intent, Tiny blocking its path.
“What the hell are you…”
The grotesque clash of monster and human left Zerik speechless mid-sentence. The Death Knight's threatening spear tip failed to pierce Tiny's odd black sphere.
Definitely not aura.
“…How in the world?!”
Tiny grimaced under Zerik's incredulous stare and spat blood.
And then.
“Snap out of it and purge that dark aura! I told you to be careful! You fucking stubborn asshole…!!”
Casual speech and curses again. Zerik bristled, but as Tiny's focus slipped mid-rebuke and he was pushed right before him, Zerik snapped alert.
— Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.
“I-I can't hold much longer!!”
Cough.
Tiny spat blood again. Up close, his state was wretched: exposed skin bruised black-purple like burst veins, face pallid from constant vomiting.
That bizarre sphere blocking aura was irrelevant now.
“Damn it!!”
The human 'hero' fought to the end in that state, while he, an orc great warrior, had zoned out. Accepted death, even.
Shameful.
Amid crashing self-reproach, Zerik desperately controlled his surroundings and inner mana. Fortunately, elevated soul tier made expelling dark aura easier.
— Die. Die. Die.
The Death Knight relentlessly pressing Tiny lacked reason. With Tiny and Zerik aligned, Tiny crumbling, it never considered redirecting.
I can do this.
Wooong.
Controlled mana pushed out dark aura; strength trickled back.
But.
No, too slow. Damn it!
Tiny's power waned sharply ahead, his recovery lagging. As Zerik panicked.
Crack!
A black-shadowed dagger pierced from under the Death Knight's helm at its neck.
“Chaaap!”
A blue-silver mana blade surged from the staggering monster's waist.
Crackle.
— Intruder!
The helm's blue light dimmed sharply, frost creeping up its lower body. The spear tip swung toward the rear attackers.
Simultaneously.
Cough.
“Eyes on me!”
Bloody Tiny gritted his teeth, swinging his shaft with black spheres.
— Die!
As dark aura sprayed wildly, blue-silver mana blade and black dagger evaded, striking weak points. Tiny's black sphere devoured the Death Knight's engulfing dark aura.
Kwaaaaaang!
— K-Kill… you…!
The Death Knight, struck repeatedly in quick succession, broadcast emotional intent for the first time.
“It's over!”
Cheeeeeeng!
An axe infused anew with silver aura cleaved the Death Knight vertically in a hearty roar.
The endlessly protracted plain battle ended.