Praise the Orc

Chapter 223: A Great Path Has No Gate (6)

"Kaaaaaaaah———--!"

Kumarak charged toward the Ashen God. Crockta tried to stop him, but enveloped in rage, he had already sprinted far ahead.

Crockta gritted his teeth and chased after him.

Kumarak struck the Ashen God's protective barrier with the Destroyer.

But nothing happened.

Kumarak lifted the Destroyer and struck the protective barrier repeatedly. Blood continued to flow from his severed arm, but it seemed like he couldn’t feel it. He screamed wildly in an attempt to break the barrier.

"Kaaaagh!"

It sounded as though not the barrier, but his own body was breaking.

"Damned woman!"

Power rose again from the Ashen God. It sharpened its end, aiming for its target.

This time, it was the heart.

But before it could be launched, something flew from behind and struck the Ashen God's barrier.

Thwack!

The attack embedded itself in the barrier.

It was an arrow.

From the spot where the arrow stuck, thin black threads spread out, quickly becoming cracks that spread across the entire barrier of the Ashen God.

For the first time, a look of surprise appeared on the Ashen God's face.

"Kumarak, now!"

It was Zankus. His arrow, capable of killing even the sun, had broken the Ashen God's barrier.

Kumarak immediately brought down the Destroyer. It shattered the barrier into pieces, but the Destroyer did not stop there and cleaved the Ashen God.

"Dieeeeeee!"

The Destroyer came down on the Ashen God.

But there was no sensation of cutting through.

The axe buried itself deeply into the ground, throwing off Kumarak's balance.

The Ashen God was already standing far away.

"I'm impressed that you mortals could reach this point."

Kumarak couldn't maintain his balance and slowly crumbled.

"What a pity. It would have been a pleasure if we had met in a younger universe."

A hole was pierced through Kumarak's chest. He tried to support himself with the axe, but soon lost strength and collapsed to the ground, blood pouring out. The white ashes on the ground were stained red.

"Kumarak!"

Crockta ran to him. His breath was fading. Crockta turned around and yelled.

"Goddess of Mercy!"

The goddess, lying on the ground, weakly lifted her head. Her face had lost all will to fight from the Ashen God's attack.

Seeing her face, Crockta was overwhelmed with uncontrollable rage.

"Get a hold of yourself and heal him! Come on, get up!"

Motivated by Crockta's intensity, she nodded. Crockta, who had laid Kumarak on the ground, picked up his greatsword.

The Ashen God had already turned her attention away from them and was looking up at the sphere in the sky, seemingly checking its progress. The sphere in the sky continued to grow without end.

"What the hell are you looking at————!”

Crockta charged.

He unleashed everything he had.

The world accelerated, and causality was reversed. The swordsmanship imbued in the greatsword was so mysteriously divine that no one on earth could comprehend it. The most efficient movements, forged through countless battles, were executed through his body and God Slayer.

However, the Ashen God's way of fighting was on a different level, almost as if they weren’t from the same dimension.

Crockta's attack vanished into nothingness right before the Ashen God.

"...!"

The Ashen God's power struck Crockta.

He parried it with his blade, but the power split in two and enveloped Crockta. He screamed in agony as he endured the attack, but the two streams now turned into dozens of spikes that pierced through him.

"Kaaaaagh!"

In an instant, Crockta was covered in blood. His body, which had turned into a beehive from the numerous stabs, bled profusely.

But he did not falter. He forced strength into his collapsing legs and stood his ground.

"Dammit!"

Scarlet blood-stained ashes fluttered everywhere.

The Ashen God was once again distant. Crockta met her gaze.

Crockta glared at the Ashen God with eyes reddened from burst blood vessels. God Slayer was still clutched in his hand. Crockta took another step forward.

Defeat loomed.

It always had.

But this time, an all-but-certain defeat was right in front of their noses.

Crockta grinned and took another step closer.

"......weapons."

"What?"

Crockta muttered something as he advanced toward the Ashen God.

It sounded almost like a hum. The Ashen God furrowed her brows. Listening closely, it came across quietly like the lyrics of a song that was playing in the distance.

"A warrior does not attack those who have laid down their weapons. A warrior......"

Bloodied and battered, Crockta was mumbling the warrior's code with a ghastly smile. His steps did not falter.

"......avenges his comrades. A warrior protects the powerless......"

Now, the Ashen God was right in front of him.

Before him, a protective barrier sprang up again, blocking the space between him and the Ashen God.

It was the same wall that Zankus had barely managed to shatter even with all his might. Yet, there it was again, in perfect condition, as if nothing had happened.

The grand magic of the cycle, a tremendous power capable of restarting the world.

She freely wielded that power at will.

The difference in power was stark.

Crockta approached and stood in front of the Ashen God's protective barrier. He did not stop. He pressed his face against the barrier separating him and her. His eyes, smeared with blood, burned red. His steel helmet scraped the surface of the barrier.

"Prove one's own honor."

With those words, Crockta lifted God Slayer like lightning.

Crackkkkkkkkkk!

Sparks flew from the friction. Crockta's assault did not cease. He swung down the raised greatsword.

The flames of the Sun God enshrined in God Slayer wrapped around Crockta. He did not stop swinging his sword. Fire sparked and metal was sheared. God Slayer hammered against the wall furiously.

"It's meaningless, Crockta."

From the other side of the barrier, the Ashen God whispered.

If he can’t break it, it will break him instead. Crockta was bearing the shock of swinging the greatsword with his entire body. Yet, he didn't care. In a short time, dozens, hundreds of sword strikes followed.

It was a dire spectacle.

The Ashen God wore a sad expression.

"I'll end it quickly, for you. There will be no pain."

She raised her hand to the sky. The ashen divine power stretching out from her body reached the sphere floating above.

She concentrated her mind on invoking a new divine power.

Then, someone shouted, "Crocktaaaaa!"

The Ashen God’s eyes widened.

"Get out of the wayyyyyyy!"

Crockta rolled to the side.

Then, a golden breath of fire poured down.

* * *

Tiyo, who had barely survived the explosion, looked up. His head was shaking. His hands were not moving very well. The General, which he was holding in his arms, felt heavy.

"Keugh... Anor, are you okay...?"

He leaned his forehead against his hand and then tapped Anor, who was beside him.

But there was no response.

"Anor...?"

He shook Anor's body, which was covered in ashes. Anor breathed weakly.

Blood was flowing from his abdomen. The blood gushed out, quickly staining the surroundings, and turning the ground red.

"Anor, Anor!"

Tiyo tapped his cheek. Anor faintly opened his eyes, but he could only take shallow breaths and was not able to speak.

"Is anyone there? Anyone...!"

"Calm down."

A green, rugged hand approached and wrapped around Anor's wound. A cluster of light emanated from his hand.

It was the shaman, Tashaquil.

"Is Anor going to be okay?"

"He's not in a good condition. If the fight continues like this, then..."

He trailed off and looked back. There he saw Kumarak, charging madly. He pounded on the Ashen God's protective barrier.

Then, Zankus' arrow broke through her barrier. Kumarak struck her down, but he was the one who collapsed to the ground instead. He too was bleeding from his chest.

The eyes of the Ashen God were calm.

The one raging in anger at that sight was Crockta.

Tiyo looked around. The gods felt the disparity in power and had lost their will to fight. Those who had once scattered their powers so proudly over the orcs were now hesitating like tail-tucked dogs.

Anger surged within him.

"What the hell are you all doing!"

He yelled at the top of his lungs, but the gods did not respond.

Tiyo heard a murmur from one of them.

"Perhaps the bigger picture of the Ashen God was right... After all, the world is doomed to destruction anyway."

Tiyo closed his eyes to gather something welling up from his chest. Otherwise, he might have sprayed them with the General.

The gravity heavily pressed down on his shoulders.

The battlefield where the gods should have stepped forward, yet they were the ones who were frightened.

How had he ended up in such a position?

"Hehehe, I see how it is," Tiyo chucked and muttered to himself.

He was a soldier of the Quantes gnome defense force. At a young age, he was recognized for his abilities, became a lieutenant, and commanded his members. He never doubted he would live as the greatest soldier of Quantes and as a splendid man.

And then, he met Crockta.

When a strange artifact known as the Demon’s Mouth threatened to destroy Quantes, Crockta was the one who rose defiantly to save the city. There was something heart-stirring about him. Crockta was more reckless than anyone he knew.

Even more than himself.

Tiyo stood at a crossroads.

Until then, he had been walking the path he knew well, but the road was forking in two after he met Crockta.

A completely unknown and invisible path had opened. Something was twinkling at the end of it. He wanted to check it out. He decided to step toward the unknown at the crossroads between the known and the unknown.

Then, everything changed.

It was a whole new world.

He met the legendary hunter Shakhan. He opened the north and explored a world no one had reached. He met Anor, killed the great chief, and saved the north. He returned to the continent and fought against the empire. Just like that, he had gradually uncovered the hidden secrets of the world.

And now, he stood on a battlefield against a god determined to destroy the world, with other gods trying to stop her.

He had no regrets.

Who could have predicted?

Who could have predicted that there would be a seat reserved for a small gnome on the battlefield where the fate of the world was at stake?

‘That artifact you use, the General, has no limit to its power.'

Xantimur’s voice echoed in his mind.

Ahead of him, he saw Crockta wildly swinging his greatsword. In a world that had stopped moving, he was struggling alone.

He was a much cooler man than any of these gods sitting down in resignation.

Indeed, he was the man Tiyo had decided to follow.

"Finally, it’s Tiyo’s turn."

He lifted the General.

The General, shaped like a rifle, started changing its form with a clicking sound.

The barrel expanded, opening its maw.

The General operated on Tiyo's will and vitality. It rapidly drained his body. It wrung out Tiyo's brain and devoured the vitality from his entire body. His body gradually tilted downward.

His life began to evaporate rapidly.

But he gritted his teeth and steadied himself.

What he might lose with this maneuver was unknown.

But it didn't matter.

'Crockta.'

'Hmm?'

'I want to go to the north with Crockta too.'

Perhaps everything was decided at that moment.

There were two paths.

He made his choice, and that decision changed everything.

'The true name of General is Dragon Slayer. It's a dragon-killing weapon designed to kill dragons.'

He remembered when Xantimur spoke to him. At that time, Tiyo could not understand what he meant, but he understood it now.

The General had no limit. And it was the same for himself holding the General. He could do whatever he put his mind to.

No matter the cost, if he wanted, he could do it.

"Huff, huff."

The General completed its transformation.

At that moment, Tiyo realized something was completely drained from his body.

He had no vitality left in his body.

He was probably never going to get any of it back.

What it took from him could have been his lifespan or his physical body.

Maybe it was something even more precious, but he had made his choice.

"Crocktaaaaa!"

The transformed General looked not like a gun but a piece of art. Two wings were spread wide, and instead of a barrel, a golden dragon opened its maw.

And the eyes of the dragon were glaring straight at the enemy.

Light radiated from the dragon's maw.

Tiyo shouted with the last of his strength.

"Get out of the wayyyyyy!"

Then, a golden Breath colored the world.