Chapter 500 The Orc God

"No," Calytrix corrected him, though for the first time, her words seemed begrudged, "...it's here."

It was then that he realized it himself, being the frontmost of the group: the vibration of thundering stomps resounded, however, it didn't sound as if they were traveling down the very tunnel he was facing towards.

CRUMBLE.

To his left, the rocky wall bursted outwards, catching the entirety of the group off-guard as he was forced to take the initiative in the situation.

Before he could even see the figure that came towards them as it was still shrouded by the storm of smashed rocks and dust, he dashed towards it with his blade reared back.

If I don't meet it right here, it'll kill them…! For some reason, that thought came naturally to him as if he could feel the murderous intent oozing from the creature.

But, even he couldn't properly prepare for what came.

A blast of wind pressure took him by complete surprise, emitting from the split-second hole in the cave as it blew towards him, and subsequently, the four others as the force of air blew them back.

He was shot back, flipping himself as he landed back into the lake of corpses, quickly glancing side-to-side as he made sure the others were still nearby.

Okay, good, he thought.

"Ren, watch out–!" The yell came from Samfrey.

"Ren!" Calytrix yelled at the same time.

What? He thought.

–He had no clue what it was they were yelling about in that fraction of a moment that he turned his gaze away, but then–he felt it.

Crashing down onto the blood-made water directly in front of him with a bolderous weight, the existence of the enemy was right before him as he turned his gaze forward.

It towered over him by an entire meter, possessing musculature surpassing that which he had seen before; unlike the hunchback lacyrie, this was one of imposing stature. It hardly resembled any orc he had laid eyes on before; wearing jewelry on its neck and wrists, with a leather-armor kilt worn on its lower-half.

Unlike most he had seen, the tall, muscular orc possessed hair in the form of dreadlocks that were accessorised with silver bands.

Overshadowing him, the weapon it held in its right hand; a sharpened slab of steel that resembled a club, was already midway down, aimed for his head with crushing force.

"Move it, dammit–!" Memo yelled out for the first time.

Less than an inch away from meeting his scalp, brushing against his hairs, the sharp-edged, yet blunt weapon brought down with monstrous force–did not reach.

In less than a fraction of a second, if that, he vanished into the shadows, causing the towering orc to miss its strike. The result of the overhead strike crashing down against the lake caused an enormous force to echo throughout the cave, sending a tremor through it as the waters rippled intensely.

Reappearing behind the ascended orc, he was already midway through a spinning kick, aimed directly for its necks that were heavily clad in trapezius muscles.

Thump.

–Nothing. The swing of his leg that was backed by a moderate amount of reinforcement amounted to no impact against the hulking musculature of the orc.

Come again…? He thought.

He pondered at that moment if he somehow, by some chance, forgot how to kick for a moment, but that wasn't it. The attack itself still sent a wave of pressure cascading through the air, but there was simply no impact made on the enemy before him.

The others watched just as confused, witnessing the null effect the physical attack left on the brute.

Before he could fully understand what happened, his ankle was grasped in the vice-grip of the Orc God, being pulled from behind him, and beginning to be flung.

This is not good…! He thought.

A moment before he could be slammed back down to the murky flooring, the efforts of the colossal brute were stopped by a combined, yet uncoordinated attack from the group.

Blitzing by with a trail of scattered electricity behind him, Samfrey swept by the Orc God with a lightning-imbued strike of his daggers against the brute's chest.

At the same time, Archard enveloped his broadsword in an encasing of light, slashing it against the Orc God's chest all the same.

The close-in-succession attacks from the two seemed to catch the orcish brute off of his guard, causing him to halt his slam, giving him ample time to use the shadows to step away from its hold.

Regaining his footing after being freed from the orc's grip, he looked at it, standing beside the others.

"Is it just me…or did every single attack so far do nothing to that guy?" Samfrey asked.

"Unfortunately, unless my eyes deceive me in my old age, that seems to be the case," Archard begrudgingly confirmed.

Stepping past them, Memo already unbuckled his oversized sword from his back, beginning to increase his pace to confront the Orc God.

"I'll change that," Memo proclaimed before taking off in a sprint towards the orc.

"Hold on–!" He called out, but the hot-headed, cardinal-haired man didn't seem to listen.

"...He can't hear you over that swelled head of his. Damn kid is going to get himself killed…!" Samfrey gritted his teeth.

Memo imbued his greatsword with magic as he chanted, "Vulcan: Swirling Blaze!"

As the hot-headed adventurer sprinted towards the seemingly immutable orc with his blazing greatsword, Samfrey let out a disheveled grunt.

"...Dammit! I can't let him charge in alone!" Samfrey yelled out, moving alongside Memo now.

There wasn't much he could do to stop their charge, but he turned his attention to the gothic-dressed girl, yelling out to her, "Give them support!"

"Your wish is my command," Calytrix smiled, raising her hand as darkness coalesced at her palm, "Nyx: Bind of The Primordial."

With the two men rushing towards the Orc God, who stood still in silent confidence as if not so much as fearing the potency of their blades, the magecraft of Calytrix's weaving manifested around the evolved orc.

Sprouting from the crimson waters, bands of darkness wrapped around the Orc God's limbs plentifully in dozens, holding him in place.

"Nzazi: Divergent Bolt!" Samfrey yelled out just before reaching the orc, shrouding his daggers in a trail of curved lightning.

"Hyagh–!" Memo spun around, gathering torque as a flaming wheel gathered in the path of his spun greatsword.

Together, both of their attacks were launched against the bound Orc God, who attempted to escape the array of shadowy bindings.

"Nice…!" He clenched his fists, witnessing their combined effort.

The flames that clung to the greatsword wielded by Memo spiraled like a crimson tornado, engulfing the Orc God while Samfrey's lightning evisceration imbued itself in the spiral of flames, carrying itself in a spiral.

The heat produced from their combined attacks–the split-second burst of heat from the lightning, and the overwhelming fiery essence of Memo's magic–rippled through the blood lake, causing a layer of steam to inhabit the domain as the surrounding blood evaporated.

–But, the Orc God was not reached.

"You're kidding me…!" Samfrey let out in surprise.

That's not possible. "Swirling Blaze" hit him directly–so how is he still unscathed?! Memo thought.

Unaffected by their magic completely, the Orc God was surrounded by an updraft of steam, ripping himself from the dark bindings of Calytrix with ease now after they were weakened by their combined attack.

"They're going to be killed…!" Archard remarked.

It was only for seconds, but they two were left dumbfounded by the unstoppable wall standing before them, only gathering themselves just as the Orc God finally lifted his weapon of refined rock.

"Calytrix, back me up!" He commanded, standing up.

"Of course," Calytrix obliged.