As the Orc God took a slow approach, he began their confrontation with a swift disappearance and reemergence from the shadows, using his sword to launch an array of slashes against the gray-hide of the orc.
Confirming what he experienced earlier, the body of the colossal brute seemed practically invulnerable as the steel of his blade simply bounced off of its body with each attempted cut.
Even clad in reinforcement, the edge of Belus simply couldn't rend the flesh of the orc, who stomped his feet, turning towards the man at his back.
"What the hell is your diet…?" He joked, though immediately shut his mouth as he was forced to flip backward to avoid a slam of the brute's weapon.
As if suddenly now recognizing the human before him as a proper opponent, the Orc God unleashed into a frenzy of attacks, swiping and slamming his club around as waves of the crimson lake splashed and parted.
Tremors shook the entirety of the mountain-inhabiting cavern, causing sediment to sprinkle down.
Even though its attacks came with surprisingly agility, he evaded the orc with seamless, successive shadow steps.
…I have to admit, for being that size, it's fast, he thought.
Warping around and reappearing from the shadows multiple times at random spots within the expansive, cavern lake of blood, it seemed each and every time the Orc God honed in on his location, appearing in front of him with blinding speed before continuing its rampage.
"I can do this all day," he let out, dashing behind the orc as he opted not to attack, leading the aggressive foe on.
In the wake of the Orc God's repeated bludgeons, the array of lacyrie corpses floating in the lake were smashed, cut, and parted, leaving an air of rancid blood hanging in the dank wind.
"Alright, you've been attacking long enough…" He said, flipping back as he held his hand forward, "it's my turn!"
Allowing the rise of magical energy to gather in front of his hand, it already began to coalesce into the magecraft he wished for before speaking its name.
Just as the Orc God charged towards him with speed that cracked the wind like a whip, he manifested the spell:
"Araphel: Tyrant Lance!"
Forming in front of him, the gathered darkness took the form of a drill, dwarfing the size of ones he summoned previously as it existed at a size that blocked the entirety of his vision.
It was thrice as large as himself, emitting trails of darkness through its abundant mass of magical power.
As it spun with a force that caused the abhorrent waters to gravitate and orbit around the torque of the dark lance, he released it–sending it directly against the orc as it burrowed through the vast space with a continuous tremor sounding off.
Let's see if you're tough enough for this one, he thought.
Within moments of propelling forward, the spear of spinning darkness dug through the back wall of the cavern, plowing through the side of the mountain as the orc was flung out on the receiving end.
It seemed only by stray chance, but he was forced to release the spell as the orc was released from its lethal trajectory.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue, sprinting forth as he leapt from the newly opened hole in the mountain.
The fresh air of the nightly winds greeted his nose pleasantly in contrast to the rancid stench that existed in the cavern.
He stayed close to the mountain side, running downwards as he worked alongside gravity without any fear of the ground floor that sat so minuscule below.
Sprinting downwards with the clouds at his back, and the summits of trees far below, the air grew in intensity as he sprinted against its pull, listening to its cold howls.
Silently, the Orc God stopped his own fall by slamming his fingers into the rocky slope, sliding through the stone hide of the mountain as if it were moist soil before eventually coming to a stop.
"Araphel…" He began to chant, holding his blade behind him as he sprinted down the side of the mountain with a fastened pace.
Just as he let the word of mysticism leave his lips, as expected, the overwhelming orc propelled himself upwards, beginning to charge up the mountain with complete disregard for the pull of gravity.
–He felt it, just then.
For the first time, a magical pressure emitted from the Orc God as he rushed up the steep slope towards him.
That's right…he's been holding back this whole time, hasn't he? He thought, is that it? Calytrix said something about it being an "infantile deity" right now, and that right now is our best chance…is it still growing stronger, even at this moment?
He witnessed the orc rear back his giant club of reinforced rock before it became engulfed in purple flames, trailing behind each of his upward, gravity-defying stomps with a pathway of magical flames.
No incantation? He thought.
Focusing himself, he drew in a smooth breath past his lips, tightening his hold on his blade as right before they clashed–he stomped his boot into the mountain rock to give himself an opportunity to stop and spin around.
As he spun, his blade became enchanted by a volatile release of dark mana.
"...Dead Man's Reversal!"
Meeting the flame-engulfed club of the Orc God, he met it with his own sword, reversing the force that the colossal opponent of his produced.
Propelling against the Orc God, the physical force in tandem with the purple flames it created were countered, being sent back directly at it with enough of an impact that the orc was sent plummeting down to the ground from the cloud-neighboring mountain.
Even as it fell, the orcish colossus remained silent, only watching him with its monstrous, black eyes as it plummeted.
"...Phew," he let out a breath, watching the orc fall as he clung to the side of the mountain.
With consecutive dashes through the shadows and a leap from a slight protrusion on the mountainside, he scaled its colossal height before landing atop the summit.
After using it for a few years now, 'Shadow Step' is basically the third option of moving: walking, running, and shadow stepping. It's like training a muscle, sorta. The more I use it, the more natural it becomes, and the less of a strain on my mana it becomes, he thought.