Praise the Orc

Chapter 204: War of the Gods (2)

The orcs and the expedition force were intertwined on the battlefield.

In the midst of them, there stood Anya.

"Die! Die! Die!"

She swung her axes wildly and ruthlessly.

The two throwing axes that were small enough to be overlooked became the ultimate tools of slaughter in her hands. Enemies lurking around her were all cut down by her axe.

Even the faces of those watching from a distance were also struck by her axes.

"Don't just peek like a coward, come over here! This big sis will play with you!"

She cackled, licking the blood off her cheek.

Suddenly, her laughter turned into a fierce attack as she hurled her axe again.

An enemy who was running for their life had the back of their head split open.

"If you don't come, I'll kill you!"

As she continued to throw her axes, every single one of her attacks struck the heads of the expedition soldiers. She laughed loudly.

"Kyahahahah!"

It was a true madness that fit her title of ‘Mad Slaughterer.’

Following her lead, berserkers charged into the expedition forces.

"Come here, you dogs!"

"You better kill us if you don’t want to be killed!"

"Kyakyakyakyat!"

No matter how much divine power the enemy had on their side or how high their morale was, it didn't matter. Piercing or slashing, they all yielded to injuries. Blood gushed from wounds, and decapitation killed them. That was all the berserkers needed to know.

"Come on, guys. Follow me!"

"Yes!"

"Understood!"

With the berserkers by her side, Anya took out a new axe from her belt. As she spun it in her hand, she was momentarily lost in ecstasy while deciding whom to kill next.

Then, the ground shook.

"Oh?"

It was from the direction of Kumarak, but it wasn't Kumarak's doing this time. It was the dwarf paladin causing the quake.

"Hmm..."

Anya surveyed the scene. Kumarak, covered in blood, was barely managing to get back on his feet. On the other side, his dwarf opponent seemed unharmed. He was raising his hammer toward Kumarak again.

"What the... the gods are here?"

The shining aura around the dwarf was proof of divine possession.

"Is he really losing to some god..?"

Though she spoke disdainfully, Anya had never fought a god herself. To her, the gods were always those hiding behind temples, offering few words of wisdom and seeking praise in return.

The fact that those lazy beings came down themselves to eliminate them was amusing.

"This is getting interesting."

The dwarf swung his hammer. Kumarak, despite blocking with his Destroyer, was blown away by the force. Watching Kumarak tumble, Anya felt an odd lack of excitement.

"Idiot."

Kumarak was a simple brute.

But now, even his strength, which he had always boasted, was being overwhelmed. The dwarf’s kicks toppled him, making a pitiful sight.

Anya ordered her followers.

"Stay and fight here. I'll be right back."

"You got it!"

She kicked the ground beneath her and leaped. She trampled the expedition soldiers and killed anyone standing in her way to Kumarak.

"Kumarak!"

Her voice didn’t reach him.

Kumarak clashed again with the dwarf and their weapons locked. Despite his miserable state, his spirit was not yielding even slightly. Rather, he furiously swung his Destroyer with an even more fierce look in his eyes than before.

Axes and hammer tangled. Kumarak and the dwarf glared at each other.

Kumarak suddenly threw a punch, turning the dwarf's face.

The dwarf grimaced and retaliated with consecutive punches. Kumarak's molar shattered inside his mouth.

"Krrng!"

Kumarak swung again, undeterred by his enemy’s retaliation.

They exchanged blows in a brutal fistfight not befitting a god.

Soon, they dropped their weapons and grappled, Kumarak's spirit seemingly infecting the god who also roared.

"Kumaraaaaak! I will kill you!"

"Try it if you can, Tarthatot! You Vermin God!"

Tarthatot.

Anya understood. Kumarak had gained his title of Mountain Smasher after destroying a mountain and killing a Greatworm.

Judging by that fact, the god that he was facing now had to be Tarthatot, a god who favors those who burrow and dig. It seemed Tarthatot descended to avenge Almutat the Greatworm.

"These so-called gods are no different than us."

Anya smirked.

She never trusted the gods. To her, they were no different from the other creatures in this world, swinging fists and shouting because they couldn’t contain their anger. How could one kneel and clasp their hands to pray to such beings?

They were simply another entity with great power.

"Planning to interfere in their battle?"

Someone asked her.

Startled, Anya spun around in a quick, jerking motion.

Without being noticed by Anya, a woman approached her. She was an elf and was dressed in the priestess’ robe, which was a rare sight in the expedition force.

"Then you must get through me," the elf woman spoke to Anya.

Anya had never seen this woman before, yet she felt she knew who it was. She laughed.

"Aha, it’s you, isn’t it?"

"..."

"Wow, someone famous gracing me with their presence, what an honor. But do you even know how to fight?"

The woman smiled.

The god who was always benevolent.

Using her healing powers for the sick, urging her followers to share their possessions with those in need, praised by all.

It was the Goddess of Mercy.

"You've caught my attention the most."

"I did? Now, that’s an honor."

"You have too much blood on your hands."

Anya, the ‘Mad Slaughterer,’ stood in stark opposition to the Goddess of Mercy.

"It's time to stop the tragedy you’ve been creating."

"Stop the tragedy, huh?"

Anya chuckled lightly, then gestured toward the battlefield.

The orcs and the expedition force were killing and being killed by each other without hesitation, consumed by their own madness. They were covered in each other's blood, dragging their each other, swinging their weapons until their last breath.

It was a true hell on earth.

“To say such words on the battlefield that you created yourself. You are benevolent even toward your own self-contradiction, you hypocrite. All the misdeeds I've committed in my entire life combined would seem like a short comedy skit compared to the tragedy you've unfolded today.”

“...”

The goddess’ previously calm face faltered.

Anya smirked again.

“Got anything else you want to say? No? Let's get started then.”

Suddenly, from behind, the roar of Kumarak filled the air.

“Is that all you’ve got, you gods————!”

Then, the sound of explosions followed. The blasts didn't stop at one. They exploded, shattered, and crushed. Though it was unclear what the origin of these sounds was, screams and cries of agony engulfed the area that was in the range of the aftermath.

Anya, spinning two small axes in her hands, laughed.

“You have to go help your friend soon, too, don’t you?”

* * *

Zankus limped.

A hunter, hidden somewhere on the battlefield, kept firing rays of light, targeting any opening exposed by Zankus.

Zankus responded, but his opponent's shots were faster and more precise.

Every single shot by both hunters was a matter of split-second differences.

Yet, those split-second differences were what was going to separate life from death.

Gritting his teeth, Zankus bandaged the wound on his thigh. Even now, his unseen enemy was surely aiming another ray of light at him. Zankus could feel the cold murderous intent.

He would expect no less from a god.

At this moment, Zankus didn't know what to do.

"Goddammit."

So, he decided to seek the opinion of someone other than himself.

He closed his eyes.

In the midst of the battlefield, while an invisible hunter was aiming for his life, he looked into the darkness beyond his eyelids.

There stood a man.

Shakhan.

It was the greatest hunter he knew, Shakhan.

In this critical moment, he had only one chance to ask a question. Zankus directed his inquiry toward his own psyche.

'How can I hunt this enemy?'

Shakhan answered.

Then, Zankus opened his eyes.

A ray of light was hurtling toward the slim space between his eyes.

Just a single fist’s distance away.

Right before it could pierce through his head, Zankus twisted his body. The ray grazed his cheek.

Staring straight at where the ray had come from, Zankus murmured,

"Got it, Shakhan."

He notched an arrow. His steel bow bent. Among the expedition's flags and irregular armor, Zankus saw a lone shadow fluttering.

It was him.

Zankus released the arrow.

The shadow he had been dueling disappeared, but the bodies of the expedition around it exploded.

Unsatisfied, Zankus quickly notched another arrow and pursued his target.

The enemy's figure was caught at the tip of his arrow.

As he released the string, he remembered Shakhan's answer to his question.

‘This one cannot be hunted.'

It was a conversation with himself using Shakhan's face, but by borrowing his psyche to ask, he was able to find an answer.

Zankus could not hunt this enemy.

The enemy was indeed a better hunter than he was.

Therefore, he decided to give up the hunt.

"Today, I must not be a hunter..."

Zankus's arrow flew straight, skimming past a soldier passing by.

The soldier died.

A knight fighting an orc was caught in the aftermath. The knight died. A nobleman was pierced through his shield. He, too, died.

"...but a killer, it seems."

Eventually, the death Zankus sent flying caught the enemy.

Although the enemy avoided a fatal shot, the arrow grazing was inevitable.

The enemy slumped down.

The enemy's body trembled, but he did not die.

"You’re not going to die that easily, huh?"

Zankus notched another arrow with a grin.

His title was 'Sun Slayer.'

It had nothing to do with hunting or game. ‘To slay,’ which was defined as eliminating life, was yet another name that described Zankus.

When one reaches a peak level, an arrow is no longer just an arrow but a conduit for the archer's intent.

What can be carried by an arrow?

What are their limits?

After endless practice, Zankus managed to embed 'death' in his arrows.

"Die."

He was now in the realm of 'killing,' not 'hunting.'

Zankus's arrow again targeted the shadow. The enemy, debilitated by the 'death' Zankus imbued, couldn't move properly. Zankus was sure this arrow would kill him.

But at that moment.

A brilliant light erased his arrow.

".....!"

Everyone on the battlefield looked up.

There was a radiance.

It was an old man with wings made of light, with a staff swinging by his hand.

Then beams of light split infinitely, enveloping each member of the expedition. Light flickered from their weapons, and their wounds were healed once again. A warmth from deep within their bodies resolved their fatigue.

And this affected not only the expedition but also the other gods engaged in battle with the orc leaders.

The hunting god, who was about to die by Zankus's hand, suddenly disappeared.

He had recovered from Zankus’ death and had fled.

Thwip, thwip, thwip.

The rays of light aimed at Zankus flew at him again.

Barely avoiding them, Zankus curled his lips.

"This has to be cheating."

The identity of the old man floating in the sky was unclear, but his influence was of a different caliber than the other gods.

The old man's power took over the battlefield. The light continued to boost the expedition and hinder the orcs.

Zankus scanned the surroundings. The tide had turned. The orcs were dying in vain.

Kumarak, Anya, Wallachwi, and others were also being overwhelmed, pushed back by the empowered gods, on the brink of decapitation.

A flow clearly indicating imminent defeat.

And defeat meant annihilation.

As Zankus's face twisted,

Someone whispered to him.

“......”

Zankus flinched.

The voice spoke again.

"Shoot the..!"

Zankus's eyes widened.

"Kekeke..."

Zankus chuckled.

He lifted his bow and notched an arrow. Then, he pulled the bowstring to its limit, aiming up at the sky.

Far away, beams of light flew toward Zankus, aiming for his neck with even greater force than before.

But he didn't care.

"I trust you."

The beams of light dissipated before reaching Zankus.

Even the beams of light from the old man floating in the sky aimed at Zankus, but they too, like hitting a wall, dissipated in mid-air without reaching him.

And Zankus paid no mind to any of it.

He gathered all his strength toward a single point.

He embedded the greatest 'death' he could muster into the arrow.

"Uuuuuuugh......"

His muscles screamed in agony. The overloaded muscle fibers started to snap one by one.

"Keuuuuuggghhhhhh..!"

Zankus roared, exerting every drop of his strength. He didn’t care if his muscles died. He ignited his soul for that one shot. The metal bow bent to its limits, and the bowstring was pulled to the absolute maximum.

At the brink of destruction of both himself and the bow.

Zankus felt the moment had come.

"Go."

When releasing the bowstring.

Do it as gently as dew rolls off a leaf saying farewell,

As softly as a feather left behind a flap of the wings falls fluttering to the ground, lightly so.

Thus, a streak of death was shot into the sky.

"Go————!"

The arrow soared.

Despite the old man of radiance trying to stop the arrow, it ignored everything getting in its way and ascended.

The arrow.

It passed the old man.

It soared to the end of the sky.

And at the end of it was the sun that illuminated the world.

The ‘Sun Slayer' Zankus.

His arrow transcended space and time to pierce through the sun and slay it.

From the center of the sun, a black stain rose. And as it spread gradually, eventually the entire sun was stained black.

Darkness descended upon the world.

A world without the sun.

It was complete utter darkness.

Even Zankus' 'death,' as powerful as it was, could not forever halt the sun. The world turning into darkness would last only a few minutes.

And that was enough.

In the darkness where no one could see ahead.

The fluttering of wings was heard.

Then, the voice of one man echoed across the battlefield.

"I am the hawk that soars the northern heavens."

Zankus collapsed to the ground.

He no longer had the energy to even lift a finger.

"The blue guardian of the dawn. The pale azure rider and the shaman who guides through dark paths."

Now, it was that man's turn.

The teacher of all orc shamans.

The strongest shaman of this era.

"Tashaquil."

From beneath the ground, a bizarre rustling sounded.

With the death of the sun as an opportunity, creatures of darkness that dwell in the dark were summoned. Ghouls.

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