A Gorgeous White

Chapter 317: I Challenge You (1)

BOOM!

The air shifted violently. A frightening chill rose in the air as the pure presence of cold mana swept the area.

His chest alternately raises and lowers. Moulin's eyes followed his brother's bold figure, charging at the beast with a large swing of his deadly scythe. Moulin's arms fell as the gust passed him. Relief was like warm spring water pouring into his anxious heart. He could not help but raise a hand to his chest and form a faint smile on his lips.

Moulin had been so anxious about his brother ever since they separated, and he grew more worried when he found out he had arrived earlier than his elder brother. 'Thank God...' He mentally thought. 'He's alright.'

The second Lord of the Fraunces Nobility pushed the Lion back with every swing as if to embed the enormous animal into the wall like a hallway decoration. He rained down swings as though he was trying to shred the beast into pieces.

Hadrian suddenly spoke beside Moulin. He didn't even look at the new intruders behind him.

"Nhero has arrived."

"What?"

Moulin turned around. The grip around the bow within his right hand is tight. He stood close to Hadrian as his eyes found their allies falling from the giant hole in the ceiling. They landed on their feet skillfully, drawing out their weapons like a group of pirates that had come to ravage a ship. Finally, his eyes found Nhero, the leader of the 'thieves.' The moment he landed, he wasted no time shielding the maeruthans guarding the gate. Fortunately, more help has come.

"You're here." Jagra breathed out, spasming. Panting, he gazed at Nhero.

Beside him, Ghana narrowed her eyes. "The people have evacuated the halls."

"We took care of the rest of the orcs in the castle. No one will be intruding us any further." Nhero said. Internally, his eyes fell on the floor briefly. 'Thanks to a particular someone, most of the powerful allies of the orcan leader had been disposed of.'

From a distance, Moulin narrowed his eyes as he searched the group.

"You're looking for someone," Hadrian spoke. His eyes scrutinized his lover's face. "Who?"

Moulin paused. He glanced at Hadrian and spoke.

"Someone who will stop all of this."

Thud!

All of a sudden, the place turned quiet. An ominous silence sank around them. It was chilling as well as mysterious. Moulin realized the fighting had stopped. Confused, the maeruthans paused as well as they stared at their opponents. The orcs ceased fighting, and their gazes were directed elsewhere, sensing a presence. The allied men followed the eyes of the strange beastmen. Moulin did so as well.

Silver pupils shifted, seeing through the sea of heads until they found familiar green eyes. A nuclear green glowing coldly. For a moment, Moulin felt lost. He squinted his eyes and released a slow sigh.

"Accrius..."

Hadrian looked at the young man near him before directing his eyes to the orc whose name had left his lover's lips. A trace of suspicion flashed in his eyes.

BOOM!

The ground shook violently, abruptly disrupting Moulin's thoughts. A wave of cold wind hit his body. Alarmed, Moulin turned around.

Emlen rapidly retreated. There was a burn on his shoulder down to his elbow. His sleeves are torn and burnt, but the raging fire within his eyes remained bright. He had given his all, but the beast kept healing itself endlessly. Aside from the giant burns on its face, the other parts of the creature's body regenerated quickly.

Not only this, but Emlen felt a strange feeling growing heavier inside his chest the longer he faced the beast. It was the same feeling back when he, Moulin, and Accrius were traveling through the hallways.

The beast growled heavily as though there was thunder in his voice. Large chunks of ice surrounded him, but with a stomp of his paw, the ice instantly crumbled. Emlen watched incredulously.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar filled the air. A large creature heavily landed on the broken floor beside Emlen. Standing at the crater, Harow, with all the raging anger in his frightful expression, banged his fists on the ground before charging at the Dark Lion with a beastly cry.

A staggering woman in red walked past Emlen with her hands together, forming complex spells in the air. Those ruby eyes glanced at Emlen.

"Save your strength. Your brother has a plan. Go to him. We'll hold him off."

Emlen looked at her with uncertainty but seeing her resolve, he hesitated briefly before moving. They had to end this quickly.

Regaining his strength, Moulin hurried to his brother. He clenched around his sacred weapon when he started at the frightful wounds on his brother's body.

"Are you good?" Emlen spoke.

Moulin nodded.

"Good." Emlen only glanced at Hadrian before turning to eye the giant beast scrutinizing them like fine fresh meat. "Let's finish this creature."

"This fight is no longer yours."

A voice spoke, interrupting them. The orcan man steps towards them, ignoring the cautious eyes of the surrounding orcs. Although Accrius was of their kind, a dominant and powerful orc like his brother, within the orc's blood, Accrius seemed to be inclined to the maeruthans. He was an enemy in their eyes. However, the reason why they weren't attacking them was that the Orcan Lord's sibling was exuding an aura of a challenge. A threatening pheromone exuded the air around him, advertising the want of duel. But no orc was more significant to him in strength.

The only one who does is his older brother, the current Lord of the Pride.

The Pride was loyal to the strongest of all of them. They could never intervene in a challenge, especially when it concerns a battle for the chief's seat.

A loud explosion abruptly interrupted the group. A creature's body crashed unto the columns of the halls. When the dust settled, Moulin recognized Harow's giant body dropping several feet from the ground. He landed hard, smashing the ground. The sound of breaking bones seemed to echo in the air.

"Harow!"

Moulin heard Malyana scream. The or a woman abandoned her position and rushed towards the fallen familiar. She was oblivious of the hissing sound coming from the dark beast's throat. As if laughing, mocking them. Moulin heard it all, and his eyes narrowed sharply.

Before he could shout to retreat, a thunderous bellow hammered his ears. It came from behind him, thriving with dominance and power. The mana from the sound waves seemed similar to the Dark Lions. However, it was less cruel, like a strict command. Moulin was too pained by the roar that he didn't realize someone had pulled him out from the heart of the roar's path. He fell unto a sturdy chest. An arm clamped around his waist in a tightening hold.

Moulin shut his eyes, leaning unto Hadrian until the roar faded slowly.

...

Silence weighed heavily in the air.

The Giant beast had paused as if frozen. It eyed the orcan man standing in the empty middle of the halls. The people and orcs have retreated to the sides. The beastmen eyes were quivering with anticipation. That roar conveyed the call for a duel. A duel to the death. It should not be refused. It couldn't be denied. Even the Pride's Lord has to accept it and prove his worthiness of the chief's seat.

Within the silence, Accrius stood fearlessly. He faced his only sibling. His once true comrade. This once faithful and loyal person was now reduced to a nasty mess, an irredeemable being and drunk by the search for power. They were once pure children living their days within the tribe. Accrius suffered the gut-wrenching pain in his heart as he thought of their previous lives. Before all this... darkness.

Now here he was, challenging the beast, his blood. If he wins, the rest of the orcs shall be saved from severe punishment, perhaps a merciful one. They were still sinners.

The Dark Lion steps forward. Wrath burned in its eyes. Betrayal was like thorns coiling around his flesh. His own brother dared to challenge him?!

He lets out a huff. Anger boiled underneath his skin.

Moulin lifted his face. He blinked as he met Hadrian's eyes. As his eyes softened, the Hercullian Lord raised a hand to caress the youth's back.

"Your ally commenced a challenge."

Moulin brows lifted. His head turned, realizing that all had left the space in the middle of the halls revealing the vast battered earth. The orcs appeared like statues. Their eyes refused to stray between the Dark Beast as well as his challenger. Coldness clouded their expressions as if they would scavenge the flesh of the losing side of the duel like stalking hyenas. The maeruthans took this chance to tend to their wounds and injuries. They were careful not to disturb the lions' focus on their kind. They have suffered heavily against these beasts. Best to leave them alone and stay at a safe distance.

Nhero and his men guarded the entrances of the halls. No one must leave or enter the place at all costs until the duel ends. Nhero knew well of these orc's traditions and culture for a long time under their rule.

Moulin's weapon dissipated within his grasp. His fingers loosened from the emptiness, and he let his shoulders fall. Hadrian held his shoulder protectively.

Moulin lets out a breath, facing the duel. The end of this battle and the freedom of the city now rests on Accrius's shoulders.

He must win.

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