Chapter 117: Fist to Fist

Name:Era of Players: Death God Author:


Finally, the clearing fell still. All that remained were the smoldering embers of the orc village and the two figures facing off in the center – Noah and the hulking orc chieftain. The chieftain, a mountain of muscle and rage, was the sole survivor, his face contorted in a mask of fury and disbelief. His ragged breathing echoed in the unnatural quiet, a testament to the ordeal he'd just endured.

Noah lowered the Desert Eagle, the spent Magic Bullet dissolving into wisps of smoke. His golden eyes, cold and calculating, met the orc's gaze.

"Your turn," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper but laced with a deadly promise.

The silence stretched, thick with tension. The orc chieftain roared, a primal sound that seemed to shake the very ground, but it was a hollow roar, devoid of the earlier confidence.

''Raaaa!"

A primal roar erupted from the orc chieftain's mouth, a defiant cry that reverberated through the charred remains. There were no empty threats or idle boasts from him. With a swift motion, he lunged towards Noah, his massive sword gleaming in the flickering glow.

The attack was a blur of strength and steel, catching Noah off guard with its incredible speed. He was taken by surprise, his Desert Eagle slipping from his numb grasp as he desperately tried to react. In that brief moment, fear flashed in his eyes, shining like gold.

With a fierce snarl, Noah hurled himself to the side, narrowly evading the full force of the assault. The orc chieftain's sword whistled through the air, its bone-chilling sound sending shivers down Noah's spine. But it wasn't enough.

Despite activating his **Mana's Armor** in a desperate attempt, Noah felt an intense searing pain erupt in his left shoulder. The sickening sound of his joint dislocating echoed in his ears, causing him to grimace in agony.

Noah crashed heavily onto the ground, a gasp escaping his lips. The world spun around him, stars dancing in his blurred vision. His left arm hung lifelessly at his side, a throbbing ache radiating from the dislocated joint.

A slow, predatory grin, tinged with madness, spread across Noah's bloodied lips. This battle had just become significantly more intriguing.

His father's words echoed in his mind, a brutal philosophy forged in the crucible of countless matches against the latter.

"In a fight, you must be crueler to yourself to inflict cruelty upon your enemy." It meant surpassing one's limitations, embracing pain as a weapon rather than a weakness.

Suppressing the agony with a grimace, Noah paid no heed to the orc chieftain's triumphant roar. He would not surrender, not while victory remained within his grasp. Driven by something akin to madness and a surge of adrenaline, he lunged for his dislocated shoulder.

With one swift, merciless motion – a sickening crack that would have caused most men to faint – he slammed his arm against a jagged fragment of wood protruding from the ruined remnants of a hut.

"Guh!"

A guttural cry escaped his lips, an utterance that blended primal instinct with unwavering resolve. Pain, searing and blinding, shot through his shoulder, sweat trickling down his forehead. It felt as if a horde of demons were gnawing at his bones, but he had endured worse torment than this.

It was an undeniable challenge, delivered in the most unorthodox manner imaginable.

A slow smile spread across Noah's bloodied face, a smile infused with newfound respect for his adversary. This was no mindless beast he faced. In his own twisted way, this orc chieftain possessed a peculiar sense of honor—a warrior's spirit that demanded a worthy contest.

Scooping up a handful of dirt and wiping the blood from his face, Noah mirrored the orc's stance.

The throbbing ache in his shoulder reverberated with every pounding heartbeat, a constant reminder of his earlier audacity. Yet, he refused to be deterred. Gritting his teeth, Noah mirrored the orc chieftain's stance, his golden eyes shimmering with newfound admiration – and a flicker of something more, a spark of the tenacity he had honed in countless brawls in his past life.

While he was far from a trained boxer, he had dedicated countless hours to devouring YouPlay' tutorials and channeling the raw, primal anger that simmered beneath the surface – usually directed towards a punching bag. It all coalesced into a battle strategy.

With a snarl that echoed the orc's previous roars, Noah launched into a flurry of attacks. His movements lacked finesse, resembling brawling rather than boxing, but they were fueled by an unyielding determination. His right jab, though telegraphed, was surprisingly swift as it shot towards the orc chieftain's face.

Remarkably agile for his size, the orc possessed a rudimentary understanding of Noah's fighting style. He had witnessed similar techniques employed by the "Players" in their brutal and efficient battles. Emitting a snort that could rival a charging bull, the orc chieftain leaned back just in the nick of time, narrowly evading the whistling fist aimed at his nose.

However, the orc chieftain was not solely focused on evasion. Emboldened by Noah's unorthodox approach, he retaliated with a counterattack of his own. His enormous fist, resembling a small melon in size, swung in a wide arc, aiming directly for Noah's midsection.

Swoosh!

Noah, relying more on instinct than finesse, anticipated the orc chieftain's colossal fist from a distance. Whipping his torso to the side, he felt the rush of air brush past his ear as the orc's strike missed its mark. The sheer force of the failed punch caused the orc to stumble slightly, momentarily thrown off balance.

Seizing the opportunity with lightning speed, Noah unleashed a merciless counterattack. Drawing on his knowledge from countless YouPlay tutorials, he lunged forward, directing a powerful cross towards the orc's exposed jaw. It may not have been a textbook punch, but it carried the weight of a lifetime of brawls and the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

BAM!

The impact was bone-crushing. Noah's fist connected with a sickening crunch, a sound that reverberated through the clearing. The orc chieftain's head snapped back with a startled bellow, spittle spraying through the air. For a fleeting moment, his eyes glazed over, his massive frame swaying unsteadily.

A surge of triumph surged through Noah's chest, but he knew better than to prematurely celebrate. This orc was a beast, a creature bred to withstand punishment. The battle was far from over.

''Raaaar!"

Roaring in defiance rather than pain, the orc chieftain regained his footing. His jaw grotesquely swollen on one side, hung slightly askew, yet there remained a glimmer of fight in his bloodshot eyes. With a primal scream tearing from his throat, he lunged at Noah.

The brawl persisted, an anarchic dance of fists and fury. Despite the throbbing agony in his shoulder, Noah fought with an intensity that surprised even himself. He weaved and dodged, his punches propelled by an unwavering will to survive, while the orc chieftain relied on brute strength, each of his blows carrying the weight of earth-shattering force.