Chapter 247 Wild Orc First fight
Into the Stinking Forest
The march led them into a forest thick with twisted trees and moss-covered boulders.
The deeper they went, the heavier the air became.
A foul stench clung to everything, a mix of rotting meat and decaying vegetation.
Even the hardened Orcs wrinkled their noses and coughed, waving the air in front of their faces.
"This place reeks," one Orc muttered, his voice muffled by the stench.
"Is this where the Ogres live?" Volk asked, his sharp eyes scanning the area.
"Aye," another Orc replied, his voice grim. "This is one of their hideouts. They live deep in places like these. Places no one else wants."
Volk nodded, his gaze lingering on the trees.
Their bark was dark and sticky, oozing a black resin that added to the forest's suffocating atmosphere.
The ground squelched underfoot, every step a reminder that they were trespassing in a hostile territory.
The horde moved cautiously, their earlier enthusiasm dimmed by the forest's oppressive aura.
The occasional snapping of a branch or rustling of leaves set them on edge.
Hours passed, and frustration began to seep into the horde.
Despite the warnings of the Orcs who claimed this was Ogre territory, they hadn't seen a single one.
Volk's jaw tightened as he scanned the area, his patience wearing thin.
"Are you certain this is where they live?" Volk demanded, his tone sharp.
"Yes, Warchief," one of the scouts replied, bowing his head slightly. "The Ogres are here… somewhere. They don't stay in one place. They move in small groups, hunting or fighting among themselves."
Volk grunted in acknowledgement but said nothing more.
He gestured for the horde to press forward, his sharp eyes flicking between every shadow and movement.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they found one.
It was crouched by a stream, its massive frame hunched as it drank.
The Ogre was a grotesque creature, its body covered in thick, scarred hide and patches of rough hair.
Its bulging muscles rippled as it moved, and its tusks jutted upward from a wide, slobbering mouth.
A massive club lay at its side, the weapon looking like it could smash through boulders with ease.
Completely different from Grumgar and Radioactive form.
Volk raised a hand, signaling the horde to stop.
The Orcs fell silent, their breaths hushed as they stared at the monstrous creature.
"This is it," Volk murmured, his voice low but firm. He turned to one of the Orcs beside him, a warrior whose armor gleamed faintly in the dim light. "You. Attack it."
The chosen Orc's eyes widened, his grip tightening on his weapon. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the Ogre and then back at Volk.
"Warchief?" he asked, his voice uncertain.
"You heard me," Volk growled, his gauntlet glowing faintly. "Attack it. Prove the strength of our horde."
The Orc swallowed hard but nodded.
He stepped forward, his weapon clutched tightly in both hands, as the rest of the horde watched with bated breath.
The chosen Orc—Garzuk—stepped forward, his boots sinking into the foul-smelling muck beneath him.
His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, and his eyes darted nervously to the massive Ogre ahead.
Normally, seven Orcs were needed to take down a beast of this size and strength. But now, he stood alone.
His fingers trembled as they gripped the hilt of his blade, and he turned his head slightly to glance at the horde behind him.
Their faces told him everything. Some looked back at him with pity, others with skepticism. A few even smirked, already writing him off as a doomed fool.
"You hesitate?" Volk's voice thundered, slicing through the oppressive silence. His crimson gauntlet glowed faintly as he pointed at Garzuk, his tone laced with fury. "You dare show weakness before the Horde?"
Garzuk swallowed hard. "Warchief… maybe we could—"
"Silence!" Volk roared, his voice echoing through the forest. "You will follow my command, or you will be a disgrace to the Horde! Do you hear me? A disgrace!"
The word hit Garzuk like a hammer to the chest.
To be called a disgrace was worse than death.
His hands tightened around his weapon, his knuckles whitening.
There was no choice now.
He had to fight.
The Ogre, still unaware of the incoming challenge, bent down to drink again from the stream. Its grotesque body shifted, and a low growl rumbled from its throat.
"Attack, now!" Volk barked, his eyes narrowing.
Garzuk inhaled sharply and surged forward with a battle cry that was half-hearted at best. His blade swung downward in a clumsy arc, aimed at the Ogre's exposed side.
CLANG!
The sound of steel meeting hide echoed through the forest, but the blade barely scratched the Ogre's thick skin. The creature roared in rage, its beady eyes turning toward Garzuk as it reached for its massive club.
"Faster, Garzuk! Do not let it recover!" Volk shouted, his voice sharp and commanding.
Garzuk tried to adjust his footing in the slippery mud, raising his shield just in time as the Ogre's club came crashing down.
BOOM!
The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, and Garzuk staggered back, his shield dented but still intact. His arms quivered from the force of the blow, but he managed to stay on his feet.
"Move, you fool! Do not stand there like a tree waiting to be chopped!" Volk snarled. "Circle it! Attack its legs! Make it fall!"
Garzuk nodded shakily, his fear evident in every step as he sidestepped around the Ogre. The beast swung its club again, but Garzuk barely managed to duck, the weapon missing him by inches.
WHOOSH!
The air screamed as the club passed over his head, and Garzuk fell to one knee in the mud.
"Get up!" Volk bellowed, his fists clenched. "You call that fighting? You're embarrassing the Horde! Use your shield, damn it!"
Garzuk scrambled to his feet, raising his shield just as the Ogre spun and lashed out with its massive fist.
BAM!
The shield absorbed most of the impact, but Garzuk was still sent skidding backward, his boots carving deep trenches in the muck.
He coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he struggled to stay upright.
"Again!" Volk roared. "Press the attack! Your armor can take more than you think! Stop cowering and fight!"
Garzuk gritted his teeth, his fear slowly giving way to determination. He charged forward again, slamming his shield into the Ogre's knee with all his strength.
THUD!
The Ogre growled in pain, its massive frame wobbling slightly. Seizing the moment, Garzuk swung his blade at the creature's leg, this time managing to leave a deep gash.
"Yes!" Volk shouted, his voice filled with fierce approval. "That's it! Keep at it! Bring the beast down!"
But the Ogre wasn't finished. It roared, lifting its club high and bringing it down in a devastating arc.
CRASH!
Garzuk raised his shield just in time, but the force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground.
His shield arm hung limp, the bone likely fractured.
His breaths came in ragged gasps as he forced himself back onto his knees.
"Stand up!" Volk commanded, his eyes blazing. "You are an Orc! Pain means nothing! Get up and fight!"
Garzuk roared, more out of desperation than courage, as he pushed himself to his feet.
His legs trembled, and his vision blurred, but he pressed on.
He feinted left, then rolled to the right, narrowly avoiding another swing of the Ogre's club.
"Good! Use your brain for once!" Volk shouted. "Now aim for its arms! Disarm it!"
Garzuk lunged, his blade slicing across the Ogre's forearm. The beast howled, dropping its club for a brief moment.
"Now, Garzuk! Strike again! Do not give it a chance to recover!" Volk yelled.
Garzuk swung his blade upward in a desperate arc, slashing the Ogre's shoulder.
SLASH!
Blood sprayed, painting the ground and Garzuk's armor. The Ogre stumbled, its movements growing sluggish as it tried to grab Garzuk with its massive hands.
"Duck!" Volk screamed.
Garzuk obeyed instinctively, dropping to the ground as the Ogre's hand swiped over his head.
"Now! Finish it!" Volk commanded, his voice like thunder.
Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Garzuk drove his blade upward, piercing the Ogre's chest.
THUD!
The beast let out a final, guttural roar before collapsing to the ground with a deafening crash.
The forest fell silent, save for Garzuk's ragged breaths.
He stood over the fallen Ogre, his body trembling and his armor dented and bloodied.
Volk stepped forward, his imposing figure towering over Garzuk. He clapped his hands slowly, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Not bad," Volk said, his voice carrying a hint of approval. "But you're still clumsy. Next time, I expect better."
Garzuk nodded weakly, his exhaustion evident. The rest of the horde erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the forest as they celebrated their comrade's victory.
Volk raised a hand, silencing them. His eyes scanned the horizon, his expression unreadable.
"This is only the beginning," Volk said, his tone grave. "There are more Ogres out there. And I will force you all to face them all."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om