Praise the Orc

Chapter 203: War of the Gods (1)

Kumarak's weapon was named Destroyer. It was an axe much larger and with a longer handle than ordinary ones.

He wielded it as he surveyed the battlefield before him.

Despite the countless soldiers that charged at them, the waves of the expeditionary force were split and scattered upon facing the orcs. It was just like how a flock of sheep can never fight against a wolf.

No matter how numerous the enemy, there was nothing to fear.

"Are you the Mountain Smasher?"

Suddenly, someone spoke to him.

Kumarak scanned the enemy.

It was a man dressed in knight's armor, exuding an aura somewhat different than the ordinary soldiers.

He seemed like he was at a fairly strong level, that is, he possessed the strength of perhaps a knight commander. He stared at Kumarak challengingly, pointing his sword at him.

"I have heard of your fame."

Kumarak did not reply but simply smirked.

He was interested in hearing what the challenger had to say.

"I volunteered for the expedition to prove my strength. You are said to be the warrior who flattens mountains."

"..."

"It's an honor to meet someone like you. I will defeat you and make the name of the Arteros family known across the continent. I will show the world that the sword of Arteros is the strongest."

Kumarak's mouth opened.

The man before him was declaring his intention to use Kumarak as a stepping stone to elevate his own fame.

In other words, he was already thinking about the aftermath of the fight. To this man, Kumarak was merely a means to an end.

It was a complete absurdity.

"I am the last carrier of the name of the Arteros family. My name is Bende..."

The challenger was saying something, but Kumarak wasn't listening. He just looked down at his beloved weapon, the Destroyer.

The Destroyer was a weapon that had drunk the blood of countless enemies. A demonic weapon cleaned the blood off with even more blood and its sticky gore was wiped clean with flesh.

Those who fell to the Destroyer were great warriors, admirable knights, hunters, magicians, and giant monsters. All of them were formidable opponents that made Kumarak risk his life. He always fought to the death.

To kill or be killed.

That was his only principle.

Never once was it easy. After a battle, Kumarak would cry tears of gratitude for still being alive. And to the fallen enemy, he would offer his condolences.

They were powerful foes who were more than worthy to be standing on this battlefield in Kumarak’s place. Their lives were on Kumarak’s back.

But now.

"This battlefield watched by the gods has to be the greatest stage. Now, Mountain Smasher. Face my attack..."

What was that man babbling on about?

Was he seriously discussing fame and family lineage in front of him? Was this not a moment where both sides of the battle were struggling for survival? How dare he contemplate the rites and rewards that only come once that struggle is over?

Did Kumarak look that feeble to him?

"Haaaat!"

The man swung his sword.

It was fast.

Kumarak did not move.

".....!"

The man's sword stopped right in front of Kumarak's chest.

"What are you doing?"

He stepped back, puzzled.

"Do you not wish to fight, Mountain Smasher!"

Kumarak laughed. It was a vicious smile that contorted his face grotesquely.

The man had not stabbed him. Was he expecting a splendid battle together? Or did he think that ending the battle too quickly wouldn’t be much help in elevating his fame?

Either way, the man threw away the chance to take Kumarak's life.

He clearly knew nothing about the opponent in front of him.

"Right..."

Kumarak's chest swelled. He condensed his rising fury to the limits. His throat sealed to build pressure in his abdomen.

Then, he rolled his foot and roared.

"I am Kumaraaaaaaaak————!"

The earth trembled.

With a thunderous noise, the area shook as if hit by an earthquake. Every soldier on the battlefield staggered for a moment.

"My name is Kumaraaaaaaaak————!!"

Kumarak roared again, swinging the Destroyer.

Bende-whatever, the knight from the Ar-whatever family, was cleaved along with his sword. As the sword shattered, the axeblade severed his right arm and cut deep into his abdomen. Blood gushed from his mouth.

"And you are just a lowly offspring of a pathetic family. Krrng."

The knight's eyes stared blankly at Kumarak.

Kumarak kicked the knight's body away. It helplessly crumbled to the ground.

That was the end.

No one would ever hear of the name of the Ar-whatever family ever again.

"Are we finally getting started?"

Kumarak lifted the Destroyer. In the distance, he saw Crockta advancing alone, shredding through the enemy forces.

Their eyes met for a moment.

Kumarak smirked.

Then he attacked the enemy soldiers around him. As Kumarak advanced, no one could stop him.

That was when an anomaly occurred.

A brilliant light descended from the sky, healing the wounds of the expedition force and infusing them with an unknown power. They were initially overwhelmed by the orcs despite their significant number advantage, but now, with divine strength, they pushed back persistently.

"How annoying."

"Kumarak."

Someone called his name again.

"Now who the hell are you?"

"I have been watching you for a long time."

It was a dwarf paladin with the mark of a god engraved on his armor. His eyes shone brightly blue.

"Do you remember Almutat?"

Kumarak flinched.

It was a name from the past.

"When that child died by your hand, I was engulfed in sorrow. I mourned endlessly, day and night."

Kumarak started to remember who the figure standing before him was.

"I will return that pain to you."

Almutat. The Greatworm that had devoured his friend.

Kumarak flattened a mountain during his pursuit of it, and when it crawled out of its nest, he chopped it into chunks with his Destroyer. He then split open its belly to retrieve and bury his friend's remains.

Because of that battle, he had earned the title of Mountain Smasher.

If that name was mentioned, then the enemy in front of him must surely be...

"Tarthatot."

The god of all underground creatures. The father of the crouching creatures that crawl the sunless lands below the surface. A transcendent being who loves the worms and shows favor to the dwarfs that burrow in caves.

The paladin—no, the avatar of Tarthatot smiled.

"That’s right."

The gods had intervened.

Kumarak smirked.

"So you're the pervert who dotes on those stinkin’ worms. Krrng!"

His expression hardened.

Simultaneously, a reddish-brown aura rippled around the dwarf's entire body. It was divine power. Kumarak could feel an intangible, shapeless aura of murderous intent approaching.

Kumarak tensed his core and fortified his will.

After all, this war was a fight against an expedition force bearing the oracle of the gods.

The direct involvement of a god was entirely plausible.

"Foolish orc."

In an instant, the avatar of Tarthatot swung his hammer. Kumarak raised his Destroyer to perry the attack.

Claaaang!

Kumarak was thrown back.

The expedition forces got caught in the shockwave, and even the orcs fighting them were scattered. Kumarak tumbled several times, chafing and bumping until he felt the cold earth beneath his back and came to his senses.

Slowly, he stood up. Those caught in the shockwave groaned on the ground.

His entire body ached.

The mighty Kumarak had never been pushed so far back with a single blow. There really was a first time for everything. Overwhelmed by the sheer difference in power, Kumarak trembled.

"Do not resist, doomed ones," Tarthatot spoke emotionlessly.

"Other gods will also take over the bodies of these men. You cannot win against us."

"Bullshit. Krrng!"

"Your resistance is futile."

"Keke, they all talked big before I beat the hell out of them!"

Kumarak gripped his Destroyer.

Then, he leaped toward Tarthatot. But Tarthatot's figure blurred and then disappeared. Kumarak, having lost his target, halted.

"...!"

Tarthatot reappeared in front of Kumarak.

Kumarak hastily swung his axe. Tarthatot countered with his hammer. The pressure was still tremendous.

As the deadlock continued, Kumarak found himself overpowered.

"Ugh..!"

Kumarak lunged forward with his forehead.

His forehead smashed into the face of the dwarf,

“Keugh!”

Tarthatot was pushed back by the sudden headbutt attack.

The divine power made the dwarf’s nose indestructibly hard, but even so, a headbutt certainly had to have caused damage.

Kumarak rubbed his forehead and looked up.

Blood was dripping from Tarthatot's nose. Kumarak burst into laughter.

Tarthatot's face turned red.

"You bastard!"

Tarthatot’s divine power exploded, and Kumarak was struck directly by it.

"Kuuuuugh!"

He spat blood and tumbled on the ground, barely managing to hold onto the Destroyer.

"I was going to do you the favor of killing you gently, but..."

"There's no such thing as a gentle death. You dumb god."

Kumarak chuckled as he pushed himself up. Tarthatot's face twisted in anger.

"Tarthatot, you really know nothing."

"Shut up, you filthy orc. Your kind is despicable."

"Kekeke."

Kumarak rose to his feet.

It wasn't just Tarthatot. The whole battlefield was entering a new phase. Avatars wielding divine power appeared everywhere, and with each of their attacks, the orcs were significantly pushed back.

"The fact that there's a god even for those crawling beneath the earth is making me curious."

Flames flickered in Kumarak's eyes.

"I wonder, if you, a god, die, would a god of the gods appear?"

Kumarak was now back to his old self, from the time he smashed the mountain to kill a Greatworm.

He was a killing machine moving with the sole intent of tearing apart its enemy.

If the enemy is a mountain, he will flatten it.

If the enemy is a god, he will kill a god.

Kumarak has never discriminated against his enemies.

"Finally, this is getting interesting."

There hadn't been a worthy adversary for him since he flattened the mountain. No enemy encountered since then brought the same excitement as the months spent tearing through mountains to hunt and kill his prey.

But if the enemy were a god.

He could kill a god and replace his Mountain Smasher title.

Kumarak gripped the handle of the Destroyer.

"Tarthatot. Today, you die by my hand."

* * *

Zankus swiftly leaped up and fired his arrows rapidly.

He aimed only at densely packed enemies.

His arrows, large enough to be considered spears, pierced through the expedition force. Each arrow was not satisfied with piercing through one life. It didn’t stop there. After taking the life of one enemy, it dragged their body along to pierce another, and still not satisfied, it aimed for a third. Then a fourth.

And just when you think it’s run out of space,

"Ahhhhh!"

"Run!"

"It's the Sun Slayer!"

It would roll its massive mass to crush and flatten even more enemies. Each shot left a void in the battlefield as if a hammer had smashed the ground in patches.

"You all should be grateful that we’re fighting in an open plain," Zankus muttered.

An open field was a disadvantage for a hunter. If they were in the mountains or a forest, the enemies wouldn't even know what hit them or where the attack was coming from.

Zankus surveyed the front line with a keen hunter's gaze. The expedition had overwhelming numbers, but the orcs' momentum was so strong they were pushing back. Especially effective was their strategy of placing their strong warriors at the forefront.

The enemies' charge was shattered by the leaders, and the remnants were completely engulfed by the orc warriors following them. And leading that counter-flow was Crockta, swinging his greatsword.

Zankus smirked.

When he heard of Lenox’s death and returned to Orcrox, there was an orc who had survived alone. He seemed hardly reliable. When that orc claimed he would avenge Lenox, Zankus doubted him and warned him.

"If you play any tricks, I'll hunt you down too. A lone survivor can't be trusted."

That was Crockta.

Now, it was an embarrassing memory for Zankus.

"I can't lose to him, huh?"

Zankus loaded several arrows on the bowstring and pulled back with every single muscle fiber in his body.

‘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.’

Shrieeeeek!

The shockwave tore through the atmosphere of the battlefield.

As the arrows passed, a long scar formed in the lines of the expedition, leaving behind only dead bodies and the cries of those who lost their limbs.

"It would be a bummer if things ended like this."

Then, something unexpected happened. Light descended, imbuing the soldiers with divine power, and the priests and paladins emitted the light of ascension.

The gods had entered the fray.

Zankus clenched his fist.

"There we go, now that’s more like it."

He searched for his next prey across the battlefield.

At that moment.

Shrieeeek!

A beam of light shot toward him.

Zankus twisted his body. The beam grazed his neck.

Warm blood trickled down his neck.

"......"

Zankus grinned.

"Interesting."

Somewhere among the expedition force.

There was another hunter just like him.

The power felt in the wound on his neck was undoubtedly divine power.

Zankus twisted his lips and murmured,

"If I kill the God of the Hunters..."

Zankus's figure began to blur.

"Then I'll become the God of Hunting."