The Rakshas, a tide of muscular flesh and covered in iron, surged forward, their battle cry a guttural roar that echoed through the battlefield. King Gyassi stood amidst the chaos, a figure of unyielding mountain bathed in the blood of those who he had defeated. The Sword of Ereia, a shimmering blade of unknown origin, hummed in his grip.

“Charge!” Gyassi bellowed, his voice a booming thunder reverberated, his gaze focus on the Ereian soldiers behindhim, fighting half-heartedly.

The orcs, their eyes narrowed with hatred, continued their assault. Their swords and spears pierced through and slashed at grains of sand instead of flesh and blood that Gyassi’s body turns into whenever attack.

“You cannot harm him by normal means!” Gur’kan shouted, his voice filled with certainty. “He is protected by a certain power!”

Gyassi laughed, a sound that echoed with the might of a mountain. “The desert is my playground. It protects and empowers me! You can’t defeat me no matter what you do.”

Most of the orcs weren’t able to understand fully what he had said but his laugh irked them. They perceived that he was mocking their helplessness. Only Arakagarr and Gur’kan managed to understand his words, albeit not all of it.

Engaging with the Adhalia and her people daily allowed them to learn the Ereian tongue. Although they are not perfectly proficient with it, they could converse with the desert people with no problem.

With a sweep of his arm, the Sword of Ereia sliced through the air, cleaving through the ranks of the Rakshas. Their bodies, sent flying like ragdolls, landed a good distance away from where they were at originally. The remaining orcs, still unconvinced launched another round of attacks against Gyassi but did absolutely nothing against him.

“You face an absolute being,” Gyassi declared, his voice resonating with power. “A being who is invulnerable in the desert! Surrender now and spare yourselves further bloodshed.”

The Aurok, his face contorted with rage and fear, raised the golden wolf high. “The chieftain protects us!” he roared. The radiant veil of luminous film adorned in a gilded sheen, shielding the horde from the fiery barrage of enchanted cannons before, glowed with an intensified brilliance, now easily discernible to the unaided gaze.

“As you wish,” Gyassi said, his voice cold as the desert’s night breeze.

He charged forward, a whirlwind of iron and fury. The Sword of Ereia sang a song of destruction, carving a path of carnage through the Rakshas ranks or that was what was supposed to happen.

An orc, blood oozing out from the nasty wound on his chest blocked his attack. A pair of unusual axes in his hands, and a domineering aura engulfing him.

Gyassi stared in disbelief, “How?”, he was greatly confused on how did the orc manage to block his attack. He went all out in his attack but was still blocked.

The Aurok standing not far away from Arkagarr snorted, “You are not the only one with mysterious power”, the golden wolf in his hands reflecting the rays of the sun. A mysterious aura enveloping the figure of the golden wolf.

The air crackled with raw power as Arkagarr, the warband master of the 1st warband, and the Ereian king, a figure of regal bearing despite the blood staining his armor, locked in a brutal dance of death. The golden film, a shimmering mirage of raw energy, circled Arkagarr, deflecting blows and providing a shield against the Ereian king’s relentless assault. The battlefield of the two, a scorched circle of uneven sand fifty meters in diameter, lay silent, a testament to the destructive fury unleashed within.

“Your spirit is fierce, Orc,” the Ereian king boomed, his voice a resonant echo that reverberated across the battlefield. “Your strength is commendable, but your protection won’t last long.”

Arkagarr, his face a mask of grim determination, grunted, his words choked with the exertion of the fight. “Death to all those who oppose the horde!”

The Ereian king laughed, a chilling sound that carried the weight of his thirst for absolute power over the desert.

He lunged, a blur of sand and iron, his blade filled with the power of the desert that sang a song of death. Arkagarr, his body a tapestry of fresh wounds, met the blow with a roar, his axe, an iron, obsidian shade in color, clashing against the Ereian king’s blade.

The clash was a symphony of pain, a chorus of ringing metal and crackling energy. Sparks flew, bathing the clearing in a shower of incandescent dust. Each blow was a testament to their strength, an echo of the desperate will that fueled their fight.

Suddenly, a wave of energy erupted from the Ereian king, a surge of raw power that seemed to emanate from his very core. Arkagarr, momentarily overwhelmed, was forced back, his footsteps wavering in the face of the king’s fury.

“You cannot hold back the absolute, orc!” the Ereian king shouted, his voice filled with a chilling certainty.

Arkagarr, his eyes blazing with defiance, quickly regained his balance and retaliated. The sand beneath his feet sunk, the air itself seemed to crackle with the force of the impact. He roared, a primal sound that echoed with the fury of a cornered beast, his body glowing with an eerie light that was a contrast to the radiance that was protecting him.

The eerie light, feeding from Arkagarr’s bloodlust expanded, its shimmering form growing until it encompassed Arkagarr entirely. The pair of axes, bathed in dark crimson light, striked down at the Ereian king, carrying with it a different different power that held the cold menace of a predator poised to strike.

“You have greatly misjudged my capabilities, Ereian.” Arkagarr’s voice boomed. “You underestimated the might of the horde. Only the chieftain’s will is absolute!”

The Ereian king, momentarily stunned, watched as the eerie light, now a swirling vortex of pure energy, began to coalesce around Arkagarr. The light pulsed, gleaming with an unsettling power.

“This is impossible”, the Ereian king muttered, his voice a mixture of fear and disbelief. “What are you trying to do?”

Arkagarr, his voice now a deep growl that resembled that of a wild beast, raised his axe high, the obsidian blade radiating a sinister glow. “This is the power of the chieftain’s protection, the strength of the horde. And it’s might unleashed!”

The air crackled with energy. The golden light shrouding Arkagarr’s body became even more visible as to respond to the eerie light that was trying to dominate the orc’s body.

The Ereian king, his eyes narrowed in fear, watched as the golden hue around his foe, and the sinister crimson light entangle each other. The two colors began mixing with each other, resulting in a cool golden crimson, radiating a force of unimaginable power.

Arkagarr brought down his weapons in a slashing motion, a blade of light headed towards Gyassi. The ground trembled, the blade of light leaving a trail of scorched earth and crackling energy in its wake.

The Ereian king for the first time put all his attention in his defense. He wanted to evade the attack but it came too fast.

“This is nothing, orc!” Gyassi roared.

But his defiance, while bold, was tinged with a growing fear. The power that contained in the attack was unlike anything he had ever encountered. The king felt a chilling certainty.

Grains of sand quickly coated the figure of the king, his size growing bigger and bigger by each blink of an eye.

Arkagarr’s attack, a tempest of energy, descended on the gigantic figure of the Ereian king covered in thick layers of sand, his size rivalling that of the ogres. And in that moment, the entire battlefield fell silent, the roar of war replaced by the hushed anticipation of the impending clash. The fate of the battle, it seemed, hung in the balance of this singular, final confrontation.

The air hung heavy, thick with anticipation as the battlefield fell silent, every creature present held their breath, awaiting the outcome of this epic clash.

Arkagarr, his body still enveloped in the swirling vortex of crimson and golden energy, stood as a beacon of power, the pair of axes by his side. The Ereian King, a towering figure of sand and might, braced himself, his eyes narrowed in defiance and fear.

The king, despite his invulnerability, felt the full force of the orc’s attack. The sand that composed his giant form began to shift and scatter under the might of the powerful attack, unable to maintain its shape.

As the attack landed, a deafening explosion rocked the battlefield. The shockwave sent soldiers stumbling, and a cloud of dust and sand obscured the view of the two combatants.

When the dust settled, the giant figure of the Ereian King had vanished, and in its place stood King Gyassi, his armor scarred and scorched, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. He stared at Arkagarr, his eyes widening as he realized the extent of the orc’s power. At the distance he saw the orc grinning at him.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep