Praise the Orc! Chapter 118

Chapter 118 – First Strike (2)

Surka took deep breaths. The fight was taking longer due to the sudden appearance of Crockta and the unknown wyvern.

"Anor! Use your strength dot! Raise the corpses dot!”

“Boro alone is hard!"

“Just slow the orcs down dot!"

“I'm afraid I have to go down to do that. My strength has also fallen…"

“This useless bastard dot!"

"What? Fuc…oof!"

Annoying voices were heard above him but there was no way to shoot them down. Some took a bow from the dark elves and fired, but the bone wyvern skillfully turned and avoided the attack. The bombardment from the artifact was gradually decreasing. The gnome's magic power was running out so he didn't indiscriminately fire his magic bullets like the first time.

It was a little slow but it was almost their victory. The dark elf archers dropped one by one while the dual-wielding swordsman was blocked by the warriors. No matter how strong the dark elf was, it was useless if there were a lot of warriors sticking together.

The only thing left was the orc. The orc warrior from the continent, Crockta.

Surka was watching his fight with the great chieftain. Then he was surprised once again.

Power, speed, skill, battle senses, everything blended to make the perfect warrior. As Surka watched the battle between him and the great chieftain, Crockta became the standard of warrior that he wanted to be.

The great chieftain overwhelmed with his opponent with tremendous power and physical abilities. But that was it. Surka couldn't feel any elegance or surprise from him. The monstrous power was the only astounding thing. However, the techniques and calm responses that Crockta showed were on a higher level.

He didn't shake even as he fought the great chieftain. Rather, it was the great chieftain who received a critical wound.

Surka didn't know what to do as he clenched his fist. In the end, the great chieftain opened his power, which caused his eyes to become the distinctive red color as he was swept up in the berserk state.

Even Crockta couldn't deal with the rampaging chieftain. He lost his sword. It was surprising enough for him to injure the face of the great chieftain in a desperate sword throw. However, in the end, he stood before the great chieftain with his bare hands.

"Ahh…"

Surka didn't know why he felt sad when he saw the orc being beaten up.

"Kuhahahahat! Die! Die, scum! Orc traitor!"

The great chieftain wielded his double edged axe, but within a short time, he was mercilessly beating Crockta up with his bare hands. It was to destroy the enemy in the most primitive way. Crockta, who had been wielding his fists, eventually started to get hit with no resistance. It was an overwhelming power difference that technique couldn't overcome.

The ragged Crockta was lying on the ground.

“Die!”

The great chieftain wielded his fists towards the fallen Crockta.

Peeok! Peeok! Peeok!

Every time he punched, Crockta's body shook.

Surka turned his eyes away. It was a distressing sight. The opponent was a great warrior who shouldn't die here. However, he was caught in the great chieftain's madness and would eventually die a gruesome death.

"Surka."

As Surka turned, one of the great warriors called out to him, "The dark elves are running."

"What do you mean?”

“Due to the battle being delayed over here, the residents are opening the gates on the opposite side and escaping from Juora."

“That…"

Surka was about to unconsciously answer before stopping. There were complex emotions in the eyes of the warrior facing him.

They didn't deal with civilians. They might've won the battle, but their opponents were soldiers and warriors, not the inhabitants who didn't know how to fight.

However, Calmahart changed this rule once he became the great chieftain. They shouldn't let the residents escape; their options were either to kill them or enslave them. The great chieftain wanted to reign over the north with overwhelming fear.

Surka had participated in the massacre of Emeranian. Under the direction of the great chieftain, he forgot the guilt and slaughtered people. However, as the adrenaline from the battle fell, he became doubtful about the things he had done.

But even those feelings were gradually being worn down. Surka suspected that he might be going mad like the great chieftain.

“Stop them.” But this was currently the battlefield. They had to follow the instructions of the great chieftain first. “Quickly clean up this place and catch the residents. The great chieftain needs slaves."

"But…"

The warrior pointed to the battlefield. The gnome was still firing magic bullets from the wyvern, while dark elves ran around the buildings and fired arrows. The dark elf with the double swords was resisting to the end.

More than anything else. Crockta had suddenly got up and was facing Calmahart. His bloody and swollen face rose again to confront the great chieftain. The Ogre Slayer that he had recovered while rolling around was dragging against the ground. He staggered and it seemed difficult for him to even hold the sword.

"You don't deserve that quality piece of equipment."

Calmahart raised his double edged axe and prepared to run forward and finish Crockta off.

Surka approached Calmahart and said, "Great chieftain."

The great chieftain looked at him the moment he called. Surka flinched. The killing intent in the eyes was directed at him. It felt like Calmahart would swing his axe at Surka.

Surka gulped and continued, "The residents are escaping."

"So?"

“If the fight becomes longer…"

As Surka was reporting to the great chieftain, laughter was heard.

“……!”

It was Crockta. Crockta laughed as he looked at them with his messed up face, while the greatsword was on his shoulders.

“If you want to go…"

It was a weary voice. It seemed difficult to lift the greatsword.

“You will need to pass by me."

However, he once again opened his mouth. He lifted the greatsword from his shoulders. It was a horrible face was broken and made swollen by Calmahart. It was a sad sight as the tattooed body became completely covered in blood. However, he smiled again.

"Come."

Surka saw his appearance and was thrilled once again.

'What do you think a true warrior is, Surka?'

His father, Shiktulla, the chief warrior of the Steel Axe Tribe had asked him. Surka had said things like power, skill, physical fitness, battle senses, etc. He wanted to be a big and strong warrior, so he always ate meat and worked on his muscles.

Shiktulla just smiled at Surka. His father never answered him directly. One day he would become aware of it himself. Today, Surka met a man who had everything he mentioned in childhood. But it wasn't what really made him a warrior. This.

That smile. It was that smile that resembled Shiktulla.

“I understand, no more dragging it out. I will kill you."

Calmahart laughed. Now the battle was almost over. The dark elves were out of their league and the ranged bombardment of the gnome from the sky was slowly fading away. The only thing left was the orc.

The great chieftain and all the warriors who followed him turned their gazes to Crockta. However, he never turned his head away. He took one step forward.

The sword made a sound. An orc fighting alone against an army.

“I’m envious," Surka muttered to himself.

He envied Crockta. He was ashamed of himself. He had crossed the line to become a warrior. He had fought and killed on the great chieftain's command. He looked down at his axe that became increasingly covered in blood. He had believed that he would someday become a true warrior in the north and throughout the continent.

But now he knew that would never come to pass.

He couldn't attack the warriors of the Great Clan alone, as one person against an army. A warrior was someone who confronted others with a sword, not someone who wielded that sword towards civilians and turned them into slaves.

"Father…"

After the roar of the great chieftain, the warriors rushed towards Crockta. The result was obvious. His body was already in tatters and the great chieftain was still in his frenzied state. If all the warriors rushed together, it was perfectly clear how the orc would end up.

The great chieftain and his warriors were briefly blocking Crockta from view when a thunderous sound shook the earth.

“……!”

At the same time, a wave of energy pushed out in a fan shape. Apart from the great chieftain, the rest of the warriors fell apart with sword marks on their abdomens.

Surka saw it. He saw it clearly. A fire was burning in Crockta's eyes. He was a wreck, but his eyes were still burning with the will to fight with a hot, combative spirit.

Surka couldn't believe it. Where did that power come from?

“What are you doing? Surka!"

One of the great warriors hit his back. Surka recovered his spirit and raised his axe before running towards Crockta. However, he didn't dare confront Crockta. Surka stayed behind the great chieftain and the other warriors. They were strong enough to occupy anywhere in the north.

That orc was alone. However, he seemed bigger than all the other orcs. The orc that came from the continent was far bigger than them. Crocka once again let out his battle cry,

“Bul'tarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr──────!"

His greatsword moved about flamboyantly. While the size of the greatsword meant that it could never move fancily, it still danced in all four directions and caused sparks to fly as it collided with various axes and blades.

The greatsword was on the right, then the left, then above. It was great swordsmanship. Even the great chieftain was confused and stepped back.

Surka gritted his teeth and took one step closer. Their eyes met.

“……!”

The greatsword flew towards him. At that moment, it seemed more like an axe than a greatsword. The shape of an axe overlapped with the greatsword heading towards Surka. It was caused by Crockta's fierce spirit.

"Ugh!"

Surka barely managed to block it. However, the greatsword flew towards his head once again. It looked like a hammer now, not a greatsword.

“……!”

The face of an orc that he had never seen before was superimposed on top of Crockta's vicious visage. The hammer crashing down towards him gave off the illusion of a mountain.

Other Great Clan warriors helped Surka but greatsword bounced off yet again. A chill went down Surka's spine as he barely survived.

The appearance of numerous orcs covered Crockta. It was a sight he was seeing for the very first time. There was a vicious orc like Crockta, covered with tattoos and scars of battle. There was one monster that overwhelmed dozens of great warriors. All their eyes were burning like Crockta's.

It was a bizarre illusion. Crockta was clearly alone but he looked like an army was fighting with him.

“Killing innocent people!" Crockta shouted. “Making slaves of orcs and other species!"

Now Crockta went forward, prompting the Great Clan warriors to retreat.. The great chieftain stood and wielded his double edged axe, but Crockta blocked it with his greatsword. Sparks flew.

“Great Clan in the north──────!"

Crockta's roar overpowered all other sound in the world and captured their eardrums. Crockta jumped and aimed the greatsword at Calmahart's neck.

"Where is your honor as a warrior──────!"

Surka dropped his weapon.

Praise the Orc: 

Current schedule: Next Patreon goal has been reached!! Thank you for the support. There will now be 14 chapters a week, meaning two chapters every day.

Chapter end