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53.84% Black Onyx - Forgotten Magic / Chapter 210: Last Stand

Capítulo 210: Last Stand

Warren shuddered as he stared into the eyes of the most terrifying-looking monster in his life. The Orc that took his little girl…and his wife! Or maybe it was some other of the beasts, not that it mattered though, they all looked the same to him.

But that smile, that cruel and mocking smile the beast was displaying… He could never forget it!

The man was holding a sword in his hands. A crude weapon that has seen many battles, but it now only served as a toy for these monsters.

Though his hands were shaking in fear, he held on to the blade for dear life. "Be brave, be brave…"

"This is my chance… My little Gomora… My dear wife… I'll join you soon…" His eyes turned red amidst absolute despair, and his reasoning vanished, replaced with but a single thought.

'Kill! I must kill them! Kill these monsters!'

"Wraaaagh! Dieeeeee!"

He charged forward with the sword while giving off an animalistic scream. The place turned quiet, and then…

Paff!

Warren found himself spinning and falling to the floor, his eyes catching a glimpse of that damn mocking grin.

The young Orc slapped him effortlessly and the audience erupted in maddening laughter. This was what they wanted! The struggle! The resentment! The courage! The rage!

The hope!

They wanted their opponents to give it their all! So that their eventual demise would be oh so much sweeter!

***

The memory of the fight was somewhat blurry for Warren. He remembered himself trying to stand up, only to get beaten back down.

It happened many times. When he thought he couldn't go on anymore, when he thought it was over for him… The Orc would stop. It would give him some space, some time to recover and try to stand up again, give him a ray of hope… So the beatdown would be more interesting!

Beating someone that has already given up on life? Boring!

But beating someone that is struggling to survive? Very engaging and fun! That was their philosophy.

"…"

Warren fainted somewhere after the fifth time, he figured, as his memories ended there.

He was in a cold, dark cell once again. His body was aching, his skin burning as if on fire, his joints inflamed and stiff from all those bruises…

He somehow still kept his old helmet, although it basically offered no protection. The Orcs might have found it amusing for a human to keep on struggling so dearly so they let him keep it.

Thud!

Something heavy landed in the cell beside him. Warren opened his eyes with difficulty just to see an Orc leaving with a torch.

Before the newcomer was completely consumed by shadows, Warren took a look at him.

He covered his mouth to prevent himself from screaming and shuddered. Half of the man's face was gone as if someone cleaved it off with a sword, and his right hand was missing too. It was not difficult to imagine what happened.

With a trembling hand, he reached forward and placed his fingers where the nose should be and felt…nothing.

He placed his hand on the man's chest and neck and also felt…nothing.

The man was dead. The Orcs didn't even bother to check before throwing him away. Usually the dead would get devoured by the spectators, but not this time.

Warren swallowed his dry saliva with difficulty. It has been days since he ate something, or had a drink…

A crazy thought was slowly growing in his mind.

At first, he tried to ignore it, push it away. But his mouth was dry, and his lips cracked. First signs of dehydration were already showing themselves. Migraines, difficulty focusing, nausea, increasing weakness…

His dried lips parted and a hoarse whisper left his mouth, "I need to survive…"

He kneeled beside the corpse and kowtowed to the ground. "Forgive me, brother, may your soul rest in peace in the eternal flames of Innos."

His mouth reached the pool of blood on the floor and... he drank.

'I will survive! I have to!'

***

Survive. Take revenge. That's what still kept him going.

Those empty, dead eyes, now burned with immense hate.

Orcs, the beings of darkness, invaders from another world, plaguing humanity for millennia.

Where did they come from? What was their goal? Why are they here? Why us? Why me?!

Thoughts like these were born in his mind, but…there was no answer.

He was but a simple farmer. Life was good, hard but good. He had a modest house, a good wife, a beautiful daughter…

All gone. In a single night. Lost it all.

His happiness left him, but something else had to take its place.

Anger. Boundless anger and hate.

A desire for revenge. But first…he had to survive!

He drank the blood of his fellow man. Death of one, for the life of another.

That's how life works, usually.

Not with Orcs though. They kill for fun. They find amusement in torture. Demonic beings made for war. Infinitely adaptive to any environment.

But so were humans, and so was Warren.

He was called to the ring a few more times since then. He got beaten, and he bled, but he was still alive!

Broken, but not done! The iron helm still sat on top of his head, almost as if sending a message from up high. A message of perseverance!

Down, but not defeated. His spirit grew with each passing day as he drank the blood of his people and feasted on their flesh.

But then…

RUMBLE!

There was thunder.

Thunder inside the cave… or maybe it wasn't.

Warren could hear frightened screams from his cell, amplified by the emptiness of the cavern and distorted by the loud echoes. He noticed something weird, something unusual.

The Orcs, the Hobgoblins, the little shits, they were nervous, they were on guard.

Suddenly there was a roar, a loud and powerful roar coming from somewhere. They moved. The beasts rushed forward in a sudden bloodthirsty frenzy, completely ignoring the prisoners in their cages.

RUMBLE!

There was that thunder again, it was coming closer. Then there were screams…

Warren opened his eyes wide in the dark and perked his ears up even though his body was in agony. He heard screams he never thought would be possible.

The beasts cried. They begged for mercy. He could hear sadness and pain in their voice. He stood up and opened the door, peering into the darkness. His eyes adapted to the dim light long ago and he could see…nothing.

No Orc or any other monsters to be seen anywhere.

He grabbed a broken sword in the arena, his heart beating strong and hard, like a war drum.

This was his chance to do something, to take fate by the reigns, to be a man! To do war!

It was time to fight.


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
GoldenShadow GoldenShadow

Oh boy, here we go killing again...

Yo! Tell me what you think in the comments. Is Warren going to make a difference in the world? Or is he going to die, alone and forgotten, in a dark cave?

Capítulo 211: Broken Shield

'What's with this guy today, seriously. He seems so nervous…' Gerald quietly mused to himself.

"What about this token…?" Arthur took out the silver token Gerald gave him long ago.

"Ah? Oh, that's what you are worried about? It still works, of course. You can ask for one thing, and if it is within my power, I'll do it."

Arthur became visually more relaxed immediately. He breathed out in relief, "Then if I were to request for you to teach me how to fly…"

"Forget it!" Gerald didn't even let him finish before shooting him down. "Don't get me wrong, I can try to teach you, no problem. However, it would be useless since you lack the requirements for that kind of magic. You'd better ask for something else."

"Is that so…" It was quite clear Arthur was disappointed to hear he was not suited for flight magic, but he figured as much.

Not everybody was suitable for magic, and he certainly wasn't one of those geniuses. Why else would he be working as a boss in an auction house? It was way more stressful and less fun than casting spells.

"Anyway, don't mind all that!" Gerald beamed a smile once more and hugged Arthur over the shoulders. "Listen, I plan on doing some…stuff, and I need a lot of gold, and I mean A LOT! So, how about you find a few of your trustworthy workers and teach them the recipe?"

"I… Actually, I was meaning to ask you about that. I got requests from many influential figures for massive orders and so…"

"Perfect!" Gerald exclaimed, "I'll leave it to you then! You can bring the next batch of gold whenever, my doors are always open to you!"

"S-Sure!" Arthur squeezed a forced smile. Gerald gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, but it felt like being struck with a hammer.

As the man left in high spirits with his chest of gold under his armpit, Arthur collapsed in his chair, sighed out in relief, and massaged his shoulder.

"Seriously… What's happening with this world?"

While Arthur was contemplating his life, Gerald returned home with the gold. He casually handed over the chest to his butler, only to have the old man almost collapse from the weight.

"Whoops!" It slipped his mind that gold was quite heavy since he could now carry a few hundred kilograms of weight as if it was nothing.

Anyhow, now that he got some more funds he could get some more materials for spell scrolls. He felt the need to make a giant arsenal of weapons in preparation for the war that was to come.

He wanted to make at least a few hundred Greater Fireball spell scrolls, however, Fire Crystals were quite expensive and also quite rare, and just as much difficult to buy.

Since the job of gathering supplies was left to his trusted butler, Gerald decided to take a stroll through the capital.

Although he lived here for months already, the city was just too big to get to know it all in a short time. There were still some roads and alleys he didn't visit, and shops he had never seen before.

There was a weapon shop that especially attracted his attention. Among the many fancy-looking buildings, this one stood out like a sore thumb.

It was a rough stone building with a rustic look, made of both metal and dark stone. In Auralba, a city of white gold, it was truly an anomaly.

Above the front door hung a metal shield, though it was split down through the middle, and only the bottom half was still holding it together. It was hanging from two black chains that were making it gently sway in the wind.

After coming inside, a strong iron smell immediately hit Gerald's nose. And as someone that likes to work with metal, it was quite soothing for him.

"Hello! We got some good pieces if you are looking to buy." A friendly voice greeted him. It was a woman, nothing special about her.

Average height, average looks, slightly plump, and probably already over thirty. She was standing at the counter, seemingly in charge of the place.

"Oh, hey there! I guess I'm here to buy yes…"

"Excellent," the woman clapped her hands cheerfully, "So, what will it be? Want to protect yourself, or deal some damage?"

"I already have weapons so…" Gerald looked over the displayed armor sets on the walls and weapons on the weapon's rack.

There were all kinds of tools for killing for one to admire.

Long swords, spears, and pikes, heavy axes, and hammers, elegant bows, and knives, even iron hooks on chains, as well as sickles. They truly had it all!

The complete sets of armor came in various styles and materials. They had rough iron and polished steel, hammered copper and bronze, and even hard-leather metal-reinforced attire such as brigandine.

Truly fascinating!

"Do you have any shields by any chance?" That was the one thing that was missing in the entire shop. They had no shields anywhere! How weird!

"Shields?" The woman looked at him sideways and he got the feeling she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

"You don't have it? Who makes all these other things anyway, must be a really skilled craftsman!"

"It's… That's my husband's handiwork. He's working in his smithy at the back…"

"Well… Then can I go talk to him?"

The woman thought for a bit and then nodded, and signaled him he should follow her.

"Good luck!" she said after pointing him in the right direction and returned to the shop.

'What for,' Gerald wondered.

Behind the shop was a small shack with an open forge and a middle-aged man was working away, pounding on metal with his hammer.

"Hello!" Gerald loudly greeted to be heard among the noise. "I was wondering if I could buy…a shield."

He paused at the end of the sentence, because he noticed the upper part of the shack, under the ceiling, was completely packed with shields!

Small shields, big shields, round, square, oval, and even diamond-shaped shields decorated the place.

"A shield?" The man stopped banging on his anvil and looked at Gerald from top to bottom. "Go away, you are not strong enough to be worthy of my shield! Your body is too frail and thin! Scrawny toothpick!"

'The fuck?' Gerald was stunned, 'What do you mean?! I'm bigger than you, and you are already built like a bear!'

He refrained from knocking out the guy and simply taking one of his shields, and instead tried to be 'polite'.

"What the fuck do you mean, old man?! What does being worthy have to do with buying your shield? Isn't silver good enough?!"

"Hah!" The man tossed the hammer away. "You know nothing! Tell me, boy, have you ever seen a real Orc?"


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
GoldenShadow GoldenShadow

>.<

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