Chapter 386 - Dark Impulse

Approaching the snowy-haired adolescent was a towering member of the orc crew with lengthy, black-lathered tusks. In the meaty paws of the savage creature were two, jagged-edged greatswords that looked like normal length swords in its large hands. 

"Come on, big guy," he muttered. 

I can't afford to use any spells this early on; even my usual level of reinforcement might be too much. Slow and easy...let's just see how strong these guys are before I decide anything, he thought. 

Watching the gray-skinned, muscular orc raise one of his unrefined swords, he flipped around the downward swing with ease. 

It's slow, he thought. 

Given a window of opportunity to execute upon, he slashed Belus against the unprotected space between his dense armor, slicing the side of the orc's knee--jumping back before it could retaliate with a roar-fueled slash. 

Standing his ground, he flipped his dual-wielded weapons between his fingers as he kept his guard up, watching as the orc snarled before returning to its feet. 

After Arthur, I guess I'm used to swordsmanship of that level. Compared to him, this guy is just a slow-moving mass of muscle, he thought, I can do this. 

Evading a pair of strikes from the orc, he spun around, pivoting and ending up behind the sluggish foe--bestowing him with a reinforced slash that pierced its armor; a flash of the orc's blood sprayed as it keeled over. 

Easier than I expected, he thought. 

As his confidence evolved to hubris, a chill ran up his spine as such delusions were swept to the side amidst the stygian ship. 

--Behind! He thought. 

A sharp edge nicked his right tricep as he rolled forward at the very last moment, turning to face a second orc that held a wicked smile as it laughed low. 

That's right...why would they fight fairly? This isn't a contest of honor...this is life or death; simple as that, he thought. 

The newly arrived foe possessed a more bulbous, broad form that stretched his grime-covered armor to its seeming limits. What he initially believed to be a broadsword that was swung towards his arm turned out to be a savage instrument of merciless slaughter--a bladed whip. Its brutal weapon was coated in battles of the past; tainted with dried, old blood and sparsely exhibiting what looked to be bits of flesh that were never cleaned away. 

It was a type of weapon that induced fear into the one on the other end; he found himself thinking of nothing as his caution was raised to the maximum. 

...It's bad enough that I don't have much experience, if any, fighting against that sort of wild weapon...but I've got one enemy at my front, and one behind me, he thought. 

Even worse, he could still feel his entire body throbbing with the pain transmitted from his Sunless Blossom, causing his reserved strength to feel more fleeting than it already was. 

"Scared, little human? Ge-he-he," the whip-wielded orc taunted. 

He held his ground, responding as he put on a smirk, "What're you, a mind reader or something?" 

The orc's snout twitched a bit as it readied its weapon, spinning the bladed whip as steam exuded from its nostrils, "No...I can smell it. Your fear is leaving your pores like a sweet nectar; I want to taste it for myself." 

He couldn't find any quips to shoot back with as his skin ran over with a chill, knowing full well those words weren't a lie. 

Not that there was any time to speak as he dashed forward, keeping his body as low as he could as he avoided a sweeping strike of the savage whip. 

Get a taste of this! He thought. 

Kicking forward to cover the last meter between him and the whip-using orc to his front, he swung his sword towards its chest--only for it to be stopped midway. 

In a fit of speed unseen previously, the tusked-creature wielding two greatswords intervened, blocking the strike with a cross-guard of his dual weapons.

Wasn't he on the ground behind me? Where did this speed come from?! He thought. 

--Almost as surprising, his thoughts were halted as a roar that propelled the orc's repugnant breath directly to his breath supplied enough raw strength to send him sliding back on the soles of his boots. 

Now the two, towering orcs that were triple his size stood together, facing him with eyes that craved for his flesh. 

"I call dibs on his upper-half, Buljin. Eyes and tongue are my favorite," the orc with two swords chuckled. 

Replying with a breathy, unnerving laugh of his own, the whip-wielding armored creature nodded, "Fine with me, Cajo. The bottom has the more...juicy parts." 

Another chill traversed his body as he listened to the dreadful words shared between the man-eating, abyssal orcs. By the abundance of saliva that dripped from their scarred lips, their words were cemented as nothing less than their most truthful desires. 

"Oh, yeah? Try me," he held himself high with stern, challenging words. 

If there was one respite that softened the malicious air at his back when standing in the belly of the beast, it was that he held complete faith in his comrades--hearing their battles transpire behind his back. 

All I've got to do is handle my end of things, he decided. 

As he stabilized his footing on the uneven, clammy planks that were littered with muk, bones, and other repulsive factors, he drew in a breath as he gripped his weapons with a conviction to kill. 

It was at the slightest, swiftest showing of either of the two orcs beginning their assault--catching the whip-wielding, pig-faced creature clad in grimy armor lifting his tail-ended weapon, spinning it around. 

By the point that the whip already began to rear back, he was moving forward swiftly, setting his sights instead on the slimmer, muscle-bound of the two. 

"Impatient to fit yourself into my gut?" The sword-wielding orc taunted. 

With a resounding, heavy stomp, the orc exuded steam from its snout before rearing both blades back into the air, slamming them down towards the swift human. 

As I thought, he surmised, you're predictable. Being able to talk doesn't mean you're intelligent. 

Pivoting in such a way that he shifted his body to the side, allowing both of the massive, ill-maintained weapons to miss him, he used the slippery nature of the ship's deck to slide forward. 

Such an unorthodox movement caused the viscous whip to completely miss him in unison, only slicing apart a few stray barrels. 

"What?!" Cajo reared back in surprise. 

He had placed himself as close to the orc as possible, making it impossible for any swings of his greatswords to be brought in retaliation. 

Using the momentum of his slide, he spun swiftly, bringing the visceral edge of Belus down on the tough skin of the orc's meaty neck--lacerating it as a fountain of crimson rained down. 

One down, he thought. 

With the black-clad orc being left feeble and at death's door, he pushed his shoulder against its belly, using the bleeding orc as a large, mobile shield as the bladed whip struck rapidly--hitting the living shield without mercy. 

As overwhelmingly heavy the bulky, towering creature was, especially dressed in abundant armor, he managed--mustering his natural strength with the aid of slight reinforcement, marching slowly but surely across the clammy, death-filled deck of the black ship. 

"I'll eat you alive, you little shit! Don't you fucking dare think you can challenge us!" Buljin roared. 

He remained silent as crimson showered down atop his head; his focus was tempered, continuing to push forward as the orc-shield finally fell limp from his back being brutally pelted by the powerful whip. 

...It's deadweight now, I'll expend too much energy pushing it now, he thought. 

Just as he went to push the fallen orc down to clear his path, both of his arms were suddenly grabbed as a chuckle crescendoed from the maw of the orc directly before him. 

"What?!" He let out in shock. 

It surpassed any logic; the creature he just witnessed fall lifeless, succumbing to wounds far beyond just fatal was now gripping fervently onto his arms with massive hands that flourished with strength. 

Ending its ominous, gargling laughter, the pig-faced brute met him face-to-face, staring directly into his eyes with his shining scarlets. 

"Surprised, little human?" Cajo grinned with blood coating his rows of teeth. 

"...How are you--!"

"Alive?...You'll have to do a bit better than that little bitch-cut you gave me, human," the orc tilted his head to the side, displaying the large evisceration still present on his neck. 

Caught up in the shock of the situation, he wasn't able to properly respond in time to the brutish creature lifting him from the ground simply by pulling on his forearms. He was brought into the air, up above Cajo's own head as the orc simply laughed out before slamming him back down with a harsh, resounding impact that shattered the planks below. 

All of the air was forced from his lungs by the force of the impact, landing directly on his sternum as he gasped out silently. 

Can't breathe. My lungs...on fire, he thought. 

While he was left unable to move from his lungs refusing to bring in any air, the heavyset footsteps of Cajo moved past him, retrieving his two blades. 

"They always fall for it, don't they? Cocky little shits," The whip-wielding orc's words fell on the human's ringing ears like distant whispers. 

...That's right, he thought. 

For some reason while he was laid out on the ground, feeling his cheek pressed against the pungent, cold, clammy floor as splints of shattered wood pressed against his skin--a thought occurred. Whether it was born of a frazzled mind, or a realization bestowed from a guardian angel, he chose to follow this instinct. 

"Kill them, no matter how it must be done," was the concept that etched itself into his mind. A dark impulse that left him unclouded in his path. It was the same feeling he felt when pushed to the edge by the ex-Argonaut; a sense of justified bloodlust, devoid of doubt. 

I guess it was dumb to try and hold back completely. You can't expect to win a battle at your lowest, he thought. 

Releasing his grip of both of his weapons, he listened closely to the footsteps of the chuckling orc grow closer. 

Sharp edges aren't the only thing I can use, he thought. 

As the air shifted directly above him, he was able to decipher that Cajo had raised a greatsword above his head. 

"Nighty nighty, little human," the orc taunted. 

Just as he brought the blade to a descent, the floored human made a swift, unorthodox movement--spinning himself so that he was able to grasp the orc's ankle between both of his legs. 

"What the--!" Cajo called out in shock. 

Before he could react, the burly, large-set creature found himself no longer standing--instead having fallen onto his back. 

"Cajo!" The other orc yelled out. 

The whip-wielding, gray-skinned orc was nearly fast enough to begin spinning his weapon as the wordless young man retrieved his blades without any wasted movements; mounting the massive orc and stabbing the dagger between its eyes, while placing Belus through its heart. 

"I couldn't figure out if destroying your brain or heart would put you down," he spoke calmly, "so I decided to try both."