Chapter 11: A Duel In The Dark
The shrill cries of our panicked horse pierced the stillness of the night, each desperate whinny clawing at my nerves. My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword, its cool steel grounding me against the flood of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm. If it were Zarathids, the horse would already be little more than mangled flesh. Whatever awaited us out there was deliberate, patient, something far worse.
Beside me, Buck crouched low, his bowstring taut. He met my gaze, his eyes filled with grim determination. No words passed between us; they weren't needed. Together, we crept forward, the crunch of leaves and the occasional snap of twigs the only sounds betraying our advance.
The horse's cries grew louder, frantic and guttural, as we reached the edge of the clearing. And then we saw it.
It stood over eight feet tall, humanoid in shape but exuding an alien ferocity. Its dark green skin glistened in the moonlight, stretched over muscles so pronounced they seemed ready to tear free. Veins coiled around its limbs like living ropes, pulsating with each movement. In its hands, it carried an axe, a monstrous weapon whose blade gleamed wickedly, promising destruction with every swing.
The orc turned its head slightly, uttering something in a guttural tongue. The deep, gravelly tones sent a shiver racing down my spine. Then, without hesitation, it strode toward the horse.
In one brutal motion, the orc seized the horse's head and tore it free from the body. Blood erupted in a gruesome spray, painting its face and raven-black hair. It held the severed head high, letting the crimson rain cascade down its body like a grotesque baptism. Then, throwing its head back, it let out a primal roar that echoed through the forest, shaking the very air.
I froze, my instincts warring between the urge to run and the resolve to fight. Memories of battles fought and foes conquered flitted through my mind, but they felt hollow now, mere shadows compared to the raw power before me. Then, beneath my foot, I felt it, a fragile branch, dry and brittle. It snapped with an audible crack.
The orc's head whipped toward me, its keen eyes locking onto mine with terrifying precision. A slow grin spread across its brutish face, blood dripping from its tusks. It cast aside the horse's head, gripping its axe as it took a step toward us.
Running wasn't an option. Even with my enhanced strength, I couldn't outrun an orc, nor could I match its endurance. And as the shadows in the trees shifted, other forms emerged, hulking, green-skinned warriors, their eyes glinting with cruel anticipation.
The leader raised its axe and bellowed again, a sound both challenge and declaration. The other orcs joined in, their roars a deafening chorus. But none moved. They stood as spectators, honoring the rite of a one-on-one duel.
I stepped forward, sword raised, and forced myself to meet its gaze. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst, but I refused to show weakness. My thoughts raced as I tried to recall every lesson, every scrap of advice I'd been given about orcs. Their honor-bound duels were my only advantage, but it was slim—razor-thin.
The orc surged toward me, its speed defying its massive size. Its first strike came in a blur, the axe cleaving through the air with terrifying precision. I barely managed to raise my sword in time, the impact jolting my arms and numbing my fingers. The sheer force sent me stumbling backward, my boots skidding against the dirt.
It pressed the attack, its strikes relentless and calculated. Each swing of its axe carried the weight of a boulder and the intent to kill. My counters were clumsy in comparison, my movements sluggish against its sheer ferocity.
Desperation surged within me, pushing me to lunge forward in a reckless attack. Our weapons collided, and sparks erupted between us, illuminating the darkened forest in fleeting bursts of light. For a brief moment, I thought I'd gained the upper hand.
But then my sword shattered.
The blade, forged to endure countless battles, splintered into jagged shards that scattered across the ground. I stared at the broken hilt in my hand, my mind blank with disbelief.
The orc paused, tilting its head as if savoring my helplessness. Then it stepped closer, its shadow engulfing me.
I stumbled and fell backward, the rough ground biting into my palms. My body refused to move. My hands shook, my breaths came in shallow gasps, and my heart felt like it might stop altogether.
Primal fear took hold. Memories of past victories now felt like mocking ghosts, reminding me of how far I'd come only to face this insurmountable end. I could feel it, the weight of death pressing down on me, cold and unrelenting.
The orc loomed above me, its axe raised high, muscles coiling as it prepared the killing blow. The world around me seemed to fade, reduced to the glint of the axe's blade and the inevitability of what was to come.
This was how it would end.