Free Web NovelChapter 223: _This Is No Human
Orc Throne Room
The first wave of orcs was a bit difficult.
Ambrose watched them charge at him, swinging their blades wildly. Each had one goal: rip him to pieces for the glory of their tribe.
Meanwhile, Ambrose had one goal: turn this whole thing into one massive move to level up.
He pulled out his Dragon Fang blades, leaping into the air when the first attack landed. An orc struck the ground he was standing on a second ago, shattering it until rocks shot out.
Ambrose landed on top of an orc’s shoulder and wasted no time.
SLASH!
One horizontal slash with both blades cleaved its head clean off its shoulders. The blood and the way its body stiffened didn’t faze him as he moved to his next target.
[1 B-Rank core acquired!]
SLASH!
[2 B-Rank cores acquired!]
SLASH! SLASH!
[5 B-Rank cores acquired.]
Soon the orcs weren’t the ones leading the offensive. They were the ones struggling to defend themselves as Ambrose darted between their ranks, slaughtering them one by one—without tapping into his aether at all.
The Orc king watched this with a dread so deep it made his bones tremble. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his halberd tightly.
’H–How can this be?’ he thought to himself just as Ambrose shot his entire body through an orc’s chest like a hot knife through butter. ’I knew there was something wrong about him. But this?’
If he let this continue his army would be decimated. His people would lose one of their main sources of pride and defence.
Aether sparked between his fingers, swirling alongside the one held within his halberd. His eyes bled with a starry light as he lifted the weapon over his head.
He yelled an incantation in the orc tongue before striking the halberd on the ground.
Tens of aether energy lines zapped through the throne room, hitting every orc. They strengthened their bones and muscles, forcing them into an evolution that left Ambrose gobsmacked.
’Oh, the magic show has begun?’ The Guide’s lips quivered as he witnessed the orcs gaining a couple of feet in height after the boost. ’I’ve got a few myself.’
He swirled the dragon blades between both hands before pointing them down. His eyes flared with a glaring dark blue light as he muttered:
"Rise."
What happened next made the orc king’s heart skip a beat.
The orcs Ambrose killed—about ten or more—twitched. Then their bodies straightened like they were being wrung out while their shadows stretched unnaturally.
These shadows floated away from the bodies... wisps of darkness and death taking the shapes and form of the fallen orcs.
They stood behind Ambrose like loyal guard dogs, their phantom tusks grinding against each other.
[ALERT: Host’s EP/aether is being actively expended to keep the phantom orcs stable.]
Ambrose smirked, glancing back at his little army. ’Quick question. Do these phantoms still have the same power level as their living selves?’
[Affirmative.]
Unbelievable!
No wonder a man like Valentine was so feared. Imagine having an ever-increasing army of undead and phantoms at your beck and call.
Not to mention the fact that Valentine rarely used that particular skill to its full potential.
’I’ll take his army and make it mine.’ he raised a hand, gesturing at the phantoms.
A wave was all it took to get them moving.
The harrowing cries of the dead echoed around them as they clashed with the orcs at the front of the army.
Satisfied with the chaos that erupted as his phantoms fought for him, Ambrose’s gaze slid to the orc king. The latter immediately stumbled back as though he’d seen a ghost—which would be accurate considering the phantoms.
"This is no human." He mumbled to himself in the orc tongue, even when he stared straight into those glowing orbs.
He forgot that Ambrose could roughly translate the orc language now. The Guide’s head tilted as a slow laugh bubbled past his lips.
Not that he found anything funny. But for the petty reason of heightening the fear he could already feel oozing out of the so-called king.
"Funny how quickly the tables turn!" He barked in the orc tongue. "This should be the part where I tell you to surrender. But I want every last one of you to fight. Give it your all... and die by my powers."
The Orc king’s chest exploded with rage hearing this human taunt him in his language.
He roared, the sound booming through the throne room as though a bomb dropped. Then his eyes ignited like stars going supernova.
Ambrose felt an incredible burst of aether energy just then. So strong and thick that his brows knitted.
’... That’s a lot for an A-Rank.’
The thought had barely had the chance to rush through his head when the orc king lifted his halberd over his head. Black flames, beautiful as they were terrifying, coated the blade until their light darkened the throne room.
"I’ll show you POWERS!" The orc King thundered in English before bringing the halberd down in a vertical slash.
Alarm bells struck each other in Ambrose’s head. He gripped his dragon fang blades like his life depended on it—already sensing how powerful the ceiling-high line of flames heading for him was.
[Someone’s finally not playing around...]
He crossed the blades in an "x" over his head. The orcs in the way of its wrath either ducked narrowly or got consumed before they could, reduced to ash.
Ambrose summoned his blue flames, creating a fiery shield in front of himself. At that same millisecond, the attack struck.
BOOM!
Tongues of flames roared, shooting out of the point of impact like black and blue fireworks. The ground underneath Ambrose’s feet cracked as the system pulled out a warning screen.
[WARNING: Black flames appear to be draining the host’s HP at nigh-impossible levels.]
’The fuck do you mean by drinking?’
[See for yourself...]
[HP: 3760/4100.]
His eyes widened as he lifted his head.
The black flames refused to die down, instead appearing to swallow the light of his flaming shield. Then—a few cracks appeared across his blades.
For the first time since stepping into the throne room, Ambrose genuinely feared for his life.
