Chương 105: Chapter 104. The chaser

Selene had once told Varrick something he had never forgotten. She had said that one day he would stand in a battle where he genuinely would not know if he would walk away victorious. Not a sparring match. Not a hunt. Not some carefully planned assault where the odds were stacked in their favor. A real battle. One where death stood right in front of him and he could feel it breathing down his neck. And in that moment, she had said, he would understand exactly where he stood.

If he let fear chain him in place, if he hesitated when it mattered most, then that battlefield would become his grave. But if he fought through it—if he stood his ground with the courage the Crown's Hand was known for—then one day the entire kingdom would know his name. That lesson rang loudly in his mind now. Because the creature standing in front of him looked more than capable of killing him. The undead orc towered over him.

It was larger than any monster Varrick had fought before—thick muscles bulging beneath green-black skin that looked as though death itself had stained it permanently. Jagged tattoos glowed faintly across its arms as blood mana pulsed through its veins. The creature roared, and then swung. Its massive axe came down with brutal force, death and blood mana rolling along its arms as the weapon cut through the air toward Varrick's head, but it only slammed into his [Force Shield.] The impact rang like thunder through the chamber. The shield buckled under the blow but held. But the orc didn't stop. It struck again, and again. Each swing of the axe crashed against the barrier with relentless brutality. The undead creature attacked like a beast possessed, as if destroying the shield had become its sole purpose. Varrick gritted his teeth as cracks began to spread across the surface of the shield.

It was his third such shield that the monster was going to break, but he guessed that it had already done its job. Using the moment it bought him, Varrick raised his other hand. Mana gathered at his palm, and the next second, a dense sphere of compressed force formed there, humming with restrained power. He waited until another strike slammed into the shield, and the barrier shattered. The moment it broke, the orc took a step forward to finish him. That was when Varrick moved.

He thrust his hand forward and released the spell. The force ball shot forward like a cannon blast. It struck the orc square in the chest. The impact drove the air from the creature's lungs with a violent grunt. Its massive body staggered backward slightly as the compressed mana exploded against its torso. That should have been the opening, the moment Varrick stepped forward and finished the fight. But the undead orc recovered almost instantly.

Before Varrick could pull the force ball back or redirect it, the creature lifted its foot and stomped down. The sphere of force shattered beneath its heel. Then the orc charged. It rushed forward with terrifying speed for something so massive, its axe already rising for another devastating swing. For a brief second, fear froze Varrick. Selene's words echoed through his mind. But he wasn't someone who would give his neck cheaply. The instant the axe came down, he moved.

Varrick stepped aside, narrowly dodging the strike as the blade smashed into the stone floor where he had been standing. At the same time, he pushed mana through his body. A thin layer of invisible force wrapped around his leather armor like a second skin. Then Varrick swung. His greatsword carved through the air and slammed into the orc's leg with all the strength he could muster. It bit deep into the skin.

The greatsword carved through dead flesh and muscle, and dark blood immediately began pouring out of the wound. The creature roared, the sound echoing through the chamber as it twisted violently. But Varrick didn't step back. He kept hacking at it. Each swing of his greatsword carved deeper into the same spot, widening the wound and weakening the leg. If he could cripple it, the fight would end quickly. The orc clearly understood that as well.

Its massive axe suddenly came swinging down toward him in a brutal arc meant to cleave him in half. Varrick anticipated it, and ducked. The blade howled over his head and smashed into the stone floor behind him. But the creature didn't stop there. Its free hand shot forward like a battering ram. The punch slammed directly into Varrick's chest. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him flying backward across the chamber. He crashed hard against one of the stone doors lining the wall.

Varrick groaned as pain shot through his body. The section of [Force Armor] that had absorbed the strike shattered completely, the barrier cracking apart like glass under pressure. He was sure he also broke a rib or two, but the injury wasn't fatal. And it definitely wasn't enough to stop him. Varrick gritted his teeth and pushed more mana into his armor. The broken section of force sealed again, stabilizing the damage and reinforcing the weakened area as best as it could. Then he pushed himself back onto his feet.

The undead orc was already moving toward him again. Before it could reach him, Varrick glanced briefly past the creature. Captain Edran was still locked in battle with the other orc. But the fight there was already turning. Edran's blade had severed one of the creature's arms entirely. The limb lay several meters away on the stone floor while the captain pressed the attack relentlessly. Varrick doubted that arm would regrow any time soon.

That orc was going to die soon which meant he needed to finish his own opponent just as quickly. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The undead brute finally closed the distance again and swung its axe in another murderous arc. Varrick dodged left, already having thought of a plan to send it back to its grave. His hand moved to his belt as the door split apart under the axe, and he pulled free a blazefire potion.

Without slowing down, he hurled the vial straight at the creature's chest. The glass shattered on impact, and a violent burst of flame erupted instantly. Fire engulfed the orc's torso, scorching its rotting flesh and burning the coarse hair across its chest. The sudden blast forced the creature to scream and stagger slightly as the flames licked across its body. Varrick didn't waste the opening. Circling behind the monster, he raised his greatsword and swung with everything he had.

The blade slammed down toward the back of the orc's knee with brutal force. But he didn't stop there. The moment the edge bit into the creature's flesh, Varrick pushed force mana down through the weapon. The energy surged along the steel and concentrated at the tip of the blade before bursting forward. The greatsword plunged deeper. The added force drove the weapon through muscle and bone alike. The undead orc let out a furious roar as its massive body buckled under the blow.

Its leg gave out and it dropped heavily onto one knee, the ground shaking slightly from the impact. Dark blood poured down its leg. For a brief moment, Varrick thought the fight might already be over. But the creature was far from finished. Even as it knelt there, growling in pain, one of its massive arms suddenly swung backward in a vicious slap. Varrick saw the movement just in time. He abandoned the strike immediately and jumped back.

The enormous hand cut through the air where his head had been a moment earlier, the force of it strong enough to rattle the nearby stone. The undead orc used that moment to recover and turn. Despite the flames still licking across its chest and the ruined leg barely holding its weight, the creature forced itself back onto its feet. It swayed slightly as it stood, but its grip on the axe remained firm. Then it swung again. The weapon came down toward Varrick in another devastating arc.

He raised his hand instantly, forming a [Force Shield]. The translucent barrier formed between them just as the axe struck. The impact thundered through the chamber. The shield bowed inward under the pressure, cracks instantly spreading across its surface. Varrick pushed more mana into it, teeth clenched as he struggled to keep the barrier intact. At the same time, his mind raced. He needed to end this fight.

The creature was wounded, slower than before, but it was still dangerous enough to kill him if he made a mistake. Then something moved at the edge of his vision. Varrick's eyes flicked sideways. And he froze for a split second. Across the chamber, he saw the necromancer. He was running. The man staggered toward one of the doors along the wall, blood pouring from the stump where his arm had once been. Behind him was Rayne, chasing him. Both of them vanished through the doorway the next moment.

Varrick's head turned slightly as he caught sight of the rest of Rayne's party nearby. Most of them were on the ground. Some were groaning as they tried to push themselves upright, but it was obvious they weren't ready for another fight. And worse, a group of undead had already begun moving toward them. Varrick watched as one of them finally staggered to his feet. For a moment, he thought the man would turn to defend the others.

Instead, the figure suddenly broke into a run, straight toward the same door Rayne had disappeared through. Varrick frowned, eyes locked on him and realised something. The man wasn't part of Rayne's party. He hadn't been there when they had taken down on the female necromancer. But Varrick didn't have time to think about it. The shield in front of him cracked loudly. The undead orc growled, leaning forward as it pushed harder against the barrier. The next second, the [Force Shield] shattered.

The massive creature loomed over him again. Varrick lifted his head and met its glowing eyes. Then he pushed more mana through his body, reinforcing the layer of armor covering him once more. His grip tightened on the greatsword, ready to end this battle, but as he stepped forward to stab the undead again, one thought lingered in the back of his mind. Whatever was happening inside that room, Rayne better kill that necromancer soon.

Rayne burst through the doorway and into a narrow hallway beyond. The chamber behind him vanished from sight as the door slammed against the wall, but he didn't slow down. He pushed as much power into his legs as he could, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side as he sprinted after the fleeing necromancer. Ahead of him, Valtheris staggered down the corridor. Blood dripped heavily from the stump of his missing arm, leaving a thick trail across the stone floor.

His robe was torn and soaked, and his steps were uneven. But he was still moving. Valtheris glanced back over his shoulder. The moment he saw Rayne closing the distance, rage, panic, and frustration twisted his face. He raised his remaining hand. A spell matrix flared into existence. A few seconds later, dark chains burst out of it like a striking serpent, whipping forward through the air to coil around Rayne. He sidestepped sharply, letting the chains whip past him and slam into the wall.

"Give up, you piece of shit!" Rayne shouted as he kept running.

"With how much blood you've lost, you won't live much longer anyway!" Valtheris only growled in response. Instead of stopping, he forced himself to run faster. Rayne clenched his jaw and kept pace with him. As they ran, he reached down and pulled two knives from his belt. Without breaking stride, he threw them. The blades cut through the air toward the necromancer's back. Valtheris saw them coming at the last moment.

He staggered to the right, narrowly avoiding them as the knives clattered uselessly against the stone wall. But the movement slowed him, and Rayne gained another few steps. Valtheris clutched the stump of his arm tightly as he ran, leaving an even thicker trail of blood behind him. A moment later, he turned sharply and disappeared around a curve in the hallway. Rayne exhaled sharply and followed. But the moment he crossed the corner, a sudden flash of light erupted beside him.

Instinct took over, and Rayne threw himself sideways. A bolt of death mana shot past him and smashed into the wall behind him, exploding in a burst of dark energy. Valtheris stood several steps ahead. The necromancer had stopped running. His remaining hand was already raised again, another spell forming at his palm. Rayne pushed himself up instantly and charged. Another bolt flew toward him. Rayne twisted to dodge, but the attack struck his knee. Pain exploded through his leg as the spell tore into his flesh.

Blood sprayed across the stone floor as Rayne stumbled forward. He growled through his teeth, but instead of retreating, Rayne lunged. He crashed into Valtheris and tackled him to the ground. Both of them slammed onto the stone floor with a heavy thud. Valtheris tried to fight back immediately. His remaining hand clawed toward Rayne's face while thin tendrils began writhing from beneath his robes again, lashing out weakly toward Rayne's throat. But they were far weaker than before.

Rayne ignored them, and grabbed the necromancer by the throat with both hands and squeezed. Valtheris choked and struggled beneath him, his face turning red as he tried to pry Rayne's fingers away. A tendril wrapped around Rayne's neck and tightened. But Rayne didn't stop. He pushed harder. Valtheris groaned, his eyes bulging as the pressure crushed his windpipe. Rayne tightened his grip even further. Seconds bled into an eternity until the tendril around his neck loosened.

Valtheris's eyes went still, and his body slackened beneath Rayne, while his hand fell limply to the floor. Rayne stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily as he stared down at him, still not sure if he was actually dead. Then suddenly, notifications began ringing inside his mind. Dozens of them. But before Rayne could even begin to process them, he heard footsteps behind him. Rayne started to turn, thinking it must be his party.

But before he could see who it was, a ringing sound echoed in his mind as his skill activated. A cold feeling filled his heart, and he immediately rolled over, but something sharp still managed to graze his neck. He cried out in pain, feeling blood drop on the ground and still managed to turn back. A part of him wondered if an undead had followed him, but when he looked at who it was, his eyes widened. Fredrick stood there and looked down at him with a cold smile.

"I finally got the chance to kill you," he said quietly.

"You fucking traitor."

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