Praise the Orc

Chapter 225: Final Book – COSMOS (1)

People on Earth were watching the final battle, hoping for the safe return of the users locked inside Elder Lord.

Broadcasters Polaroid and Laney were also connected users whose lives depended on the outcome of this battle. The battle seen through their eyes appeared even more desperate.

Their breaths became ragged when the determined fighters were in danger. When Crockta and the War God retaliated against the Ashen God, the viewers could feel the bodies of the broadcasters tensing up.

People could empathize with their emotions as they watched the same scenes as them, and thus supported them more fervently.

"Ah, please..."

"Do it just one more time, Crockta!"

"Crockta, come on!"

Everywhere there was a screen, people stopped in their tracks to watch. Crowds gathered in countless places throughout the world.

The entire world had come to a halt for that battle.

Cheers and sighs mixed when Crockta and the War God leaped to engage in aerial combat with the Ashen God. The nations shook with chants when they managed to pierce her with the help of those around them.

But she rose from the dead and, instead of falling, she unleashed a powerful force, flinging aside the two warriors who had stabbed her.

Everyone was in despair.

The power gap was too big.

An enemy that wouldn't die even when killed.

A stage designed to be unwinnable.

The battle was set for predetermined defeat.

The crowd in the streets sighed.

"Ah..."

"Is it really not going to happen..."

Crockta was flung from the battle and rolled toward the screen.

He tumbled and crashed several times. It wouldn’t have been surprising had the blows he was taking been fatal. Everyone thought this might be his end.

However, Crockta, lying on the ground seemingly dead, stood up again.

He was shakily standing, straightening his waist and raising his eyes.

Even when those watching were giving up on victory, he grasped his greatsword once more, as if he was unaware of the concept of giving up.

An unyielding will.

The broadcasters, witnessing this up close, transmitted their heightened emotions.

Suddenly, Crockta noticed them.

—You...!

His eyes widened.

Crockta met the eyes of the viewers.

When they finally saw his face straight on, his condition was even more tragic.

It was the face of a bloodied hero.

Crockta, surprised, continued.

—Why are you people...

At that moment, a powerful energy radiated from the Ashen God in the distant sky.

The force swirling around her turned everything to ashes.

The energy then reached them, and the screen eventually turned completely white.

Beeeeeeeeeeeep.

All other sounds in the world were drowned.

Nothing was displayed on the screen.

For a while, only a white screen and a strange ringing persisted.

People realized this was the scene of destruction. Countless lives had perished in that battle. Crockta and the broadcasters would have been the same.

How much time has passed by like that?

When it stopped, they could see the orc warrior, Crockta, shielding the screen with his body.

Crockta had protected the broadcasters.

Smoke rose from his back.

Everyone was left speechless.

Elder Lord was no longer just a game. Death there meant death in reality. And he had saved the broadcasters.

Crockta had saved their lives.

All of this was happening in real-time.

"Huh...?"

One by one, the people watching noticed something and were startled.

It wasn’t just the viewers, but the broadcasters as well.

His symbolic greatsword and black steel helmet, one of them was shattered—the steel helmet.

Then, his face was fully revealed.

Above his blood-covered forehead.

A white star floated.

The broadcasters were also left speechless for a minute. Their cameras transmitted not only Crockta but Laney’s terrified face as well.

—No way...

The crowd echoed the same thought.

Could it be?

The whole world was baffled by the meaning of the white star.

Eventually, Laney opened her mouth. She asked the question everyone watching the screen wanted to ask.

—Crockta, are you...

The screen caught the battered form of Crockta.

—... a user?

Crockta.

A living legend.

An orc who had always fought against oppression and injustice and had never been defeated.

A warrior who valued honor more than life.

And now, a man risking his life against the Ashen God.

On his forehead was the mark of a user, it was simply unbelievable.

Crockta chuckled.

—Does it matter?

—No, you have to answer. You must if you really are a user.

—There's no time to talk.

—Crockta!

Crockta turned around.

He moved back toward the battlefield.

Toward the grounds where the Ashen God, desperate pain, and death awaited him.

Dragging his sword with his ragged body, leaving a trail of blood, he gradually moved away.

Laney shouted at his back.

—At least tell us your name! Or just tell us if you really are a user! You might die here, we need to know at least that much!

Her voice was tinged with emotion.

Everyone felt the same.

—So people can remember you.

Crockta stopped at her emotional voice.

Then he slowly turned around.

Against the backdrop where the white sphere burnt the wick of the world's end, and the Ashen God wielded her grand spell of the cycle, bringing death to anyone who was opposing her.

In the utterly devastated land.

Those who managed to survive screamed, and gods and mortals resisted the fate of destruction.

That man, Crockta, grinned and replied.

—We can have that talk over coffee sometime.

—You...!

In Elder Lord, there was no such thing as coffee.

The man showed his broad back and walked perilously toward the battlefield.

Alone, without relying on anyone.

Promising a next time.

* * *

The Ashen God's power swept through the area.

It was an overwhelming force that wouldn’t have come as a surprise if it had killed anyone and everyone.

But a massive protective shield safeguarded the defenseless determined fighters.

"This is as far as we can help..."

"Please, take care of the rest."

It was the Goddess of Magic and the God of Radiance who had blocked that attack.

Together, they unleashed the grand spell 'Shield of Aegis.'

Their divine powers were already depleted, but they withstood the Ashen God's attacks to the end, risking the destruction of their own divinity.

What this was going to cost them was unknown. Their very essence could shatter and vanish, or they might have to hibernate for hundreds, thousands of years. Yet, they made their choice and followed through.

"Please, protect this world."

Their forms faded as they returned to Olympus.

It was the exit of the Goddess of Magic and the God of Radiance.

"How touching," the Ashen God murmured as she watched the scene.

It was moving, but it changed nothing.

Despite the sacrifices of many, her power only grew stronger.

Once the grand spell of the cycle was activated, the outcome of the battle was already decided.

"All preparations are complete, Mother."

"Well done."

It was Phymon who appeared beside her.

"It was an honor to be with you," he said to the Ashen God.

"The honor was mine."

She now appeared as a faint white figure, almost as if the white sphere that had been floating in the sky took on a human form.

She suddenly looked into the distance.

Crockta was returning to the battlefield.

"That is impressive."

The War God, who had been repelled along with him, returned to Olympus after having his divinity damaged.

Crockta, however, survived.

He was truly a warrior who had defeated a god.

She was the one who brought him over to this world, but how did he become so powerful and how did he achieve those great feats? That was beyond even her understanding.

That made everything all the more regrettable.

If only she had met a man like him under different circumstances.

"Let's put an end to this."

She unleashed her power once more.

The Goddess of Magic had sacrificed herself to block her previous attack, but the Ashen God had the leisure to launch as many more as she wished.

Dozens of ashen spikes reappeared in the air, each identifying their targets and pointing their sharp ends toward them.

"To make sure you can’t cause me any more trouble."

Time was running out.

The sun was setting, and darkness was falling.

By the time the next day dawns, this world would return to a single point and greet a new creation.

Gathering the scattered powers of the world to reverse the entropy was her mission.

"I will also join you in the end."

She also chose the path that led to her own demise.

"It would have been nice to end it all together, with a smile."

There was a time when she, like any other god, resided peacefully in Olympus. The God of Stars was still alive then, and the Sun God had not yet fallen asleep. The War God, the Goddess of Magic, and all the other gods of Olympus were close to her. They watched over the earth together, laughing and crying, playing pranks.

Why didn't she realize then that those were the happy times?

She missed those days.

They will never return. Why did time only flow in one direction? If only she could rewind it, even for a moment, to bask in those old times.

But she had no regrets.

She was doing what only she could do, what she must do.

She had to lift the world from eternal damnation.

"Goodbye."

Her power shot toward the targets.

Most were pierced and killed, but some blocked it.

Claaaaang!

Just as Crockta, who wielded his God Slayer.

Staggering with his greatsword in his hands, he continued to approach her. His battered body trembled but found balance and took another step forward.

Their eyes met. His eyes blazed. Her attack seemed to have only fueled his fire.

"You are admirable, even to the very end."

It was truly the spirit dominating the flesh.

Who could break such a will?

Only death could stop him.

But her hand hesitated in the air for a moment. Though their paths were different, he was a being too special to not hesitate. She wanted to speak to him one last time. She had never seen someone with such a straightforward and strong spirit in her long life.

"I'll take it from here," Phymon, sensing her emotions, spoke up.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Phymon moved toward Crockta instead of the Ashen God.

He, too, now possessed power from the grand spell of the cycle. The Ashen God's power was linked to him.

"I'll end it swiftly."

He had no intention of keeping that orc, who disturbed the Ashen God's heart, alive any longer.

Crockta noticed him and the tension filled the space between them. Phymon smiled slightly, wielding his power.

The Ashen God's power hovered in his grasp.

He intended to kill Crockta before he could even open his mouth for another word, but the one who couldn't speak anymore was him.

Crockta's weary body, and an unidentified steel belt tied around his waist.

It seemed to be moving, making mechanical clunking sounds.

The moment he sensed it.

A giant maw swallowed him whole.

* * *

The Ashen God, having left the final blow to Phymon, was ascending toward the sphere in the sky.

But then, she felt a ferocious power from behind.

It felt somewhat familiar. It was a power of the same kind as hers. It expanded as if it was exploding and, in an instant, swallowed up Phymon's energy. Her connection to Phymon was severed.

The Ashen God turned around and saw it.

It was a gigantic mouth that swallowed everything.

"You...!"

It was an entity she knew quite well.

A legionnaire who had once led an army under her against the gods during her first attempt at restarting the cycle of the world.

Although appearing as a timid child, its true nature was that of the gluttonous lord, mercilessly devouring everything.

"Beelzebub——————!"

He had completely devoured Phymon.

His greedy mouth, as if it was still not satisfied, bared its teeth toward her.

"How could you...?"

"Mother," he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

The child-like figure made of darkness, the 'Despaired Demon' Beelzebub hidden within the steel belt, whispered.

"Crockta promised me."

His gigantic mouth growled toward the Ashen God.

"That he would prove it with his life."

The end of the universe witnessed by the Ashen God was also transmitted to Beelzebub. It was such a dire despair that not even the Ashen God herself could preserve her sanity completely. Beelzebub could do nothing but crouch in fear, trembling silently.

Wandering the world half-insane, he eventually met Crockta in Quantes.

He showed Crockta the ultimate end of the universe, trying to corrupt his mind with void and resignation.

But Crockta made a promise to him instead.

'The world is not void. Even if the world ends one day, life is not meaningless.'

In the seemingly endless darkness, he encountered a light named Crockta.

'Follow me. If you do, I will prove it to you...'

The eyes of this orc warrior had no wavering.

Those eyes still clearly gazed at the world, even in that moment.

'... with my life.'

Thus, Beelzebub contemplated the world by Crockta's side, observing his deeds from his belt.

The world seen through his eyes was entirely different from what Beelzebub knew.

There were many events, and Beelzebub observed them all.

Even now, this man was standing alone on the battlefield where the world's destruction was at stake.

And in the final moment, Beelzebub asked himself.

‘Did he prove it?’

This was his answer.

Beelzebub roared.

"Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa——————!"

The gluttonous demon Beelzebub, with his greedy mouth, attacked the Ashen God. It was a huge maw that could easily swallow a faint divinity or magic whole. He was the great demon who once made the gods tremble in fear.

"Even you ended up falling for Crockta," the Ashen God laughed pitifully.

The gods of Olympus came to her with him. Xantimur, who had once shared her purpose, betrayed her. Abaddon stepped back, and now, her once-closest ally turned his teeth toward her.

"But this will still change nothing."

Beelzebub swallowed her, but she did not care. Inside Beelzebub, she wielded her divine power.

The darkness filling Beelzebub's insides receded. His body was torn apart from the inside. A hole opened, and the outside was revealed.

Beelzebub and his gigantic mouth fell apart, tumbling down.

"I will restart the world," the Ashen God, emerging from the torn body of Beelzebub, declared toward Crockta.

"You are the only one left standing now, Crockta."

Everyone had crumbled.

Only the two of them stood.

The white sphere in the sky, the grand magic of the cycle, the Ashen God who was connected to it, and Crockta, holding his greatsword in his hands.

The final stage.

"I see."

Crockta lifted God Slayer.

It had always been his companion, that very sword was humming at him.

Crockta smiled.

The two faced each other.

Crockta whispered, "Bul'tar."

And then, they both attacked.

Time slowed.

At that moment, Beelzebub, who was lying on the ground as if he were dead, rose and swallowed them both.