Arek didn’t wait for the horde to recover. With the force of the bodies of the wyverns pressing in on them from behind, the orc stepped forward and thrust his guandao into the smoking pile of flesh, ensuring that the Wyvern was dead. He felt his weapon strike hard scales and skirt to the side before finding purchase and sinking deep into the creature’s body.

He ripped it free, then continued pressing his advantage and thrust it back out before him. A wyrm let out a scream of pain, but the wall of scale and flesh was slowly pressing towards him. Arek’s blade flashed as he struck out at their eyes and mouths. In the enclosed quarters of the alley, the monsters put up much less of a fight than he’d expected.

With no way to easily dodge to the side or backwards, Arek’s guandao found purchase more often than it didn’t. Blood and green light flashed around him as he kept them at an arm’s length, slowly backing down the alley and keeping out of range of the creature’s claws.

The world blurred as Arek lost himself in the thrum of the fight. The smell of coppery blood filled the air as he slaughtered them, but still he was pushed back. The dead end grew closer and closer to his back as the wyrms simply squeezed themselves over the bodies of their fallen brothers, growing closer and closer to Arek with every passing second.

A quick glance over his shoulder nearly cost Arek an arm as one of the wyrms lashed out and nearly took a huge bite out of him. He gritted his teeth. The end of the alley was getting close. Sweat trickled down Arek’s forehead as he slammed a wyrm’s face with the flat of his blade, then thrust it through the creature’s eye.

The runes on his claws tingled. The creatures grew closer. Arek’s breathing grew heavier. He could hear his heart – feel each individual pump like a drum in his ears. His blade took the lives of dozens of the creatures, but the horde simply piled higher and higher.

Despite the heat of the day and the sweat pouring down his skin, Arek shivered. There were only a few more minutes before the wyrms would have his back to the wall, and then the end was inevitable. He couldn’t even spare a thought for his teammates and how they might be faring.

All throughout the city, explosions and cries rang out through the cacophony of roars. Arek’s vision flared, a familiar rage kindling at the bottom of his heart. He resisted it for a moment, but then, almost reluctantly, allowed it to come forth.

The magic in his claws flared. Curls of energy wrapped up his other arm and traveled down his chest. They twisted around his legs and head, growing denser and denser as the magic enveloped him. Thick green plates of armor formed over his body. A helmet slammed shut over his face, blocking out all but his eyes, which had started to glow with dull red light.

Sparks of green lightning crackled down Arek’s guandao as he fully released his magic for the first time since he’d been known as Warchief. However, it didn’t stop. Designs carved themselves into his armor, all glowing with the same red light that filled his eyes.

A wave of force ripped out from Arek, rebutting the horde momentarily. For the merest flicker of an instant, a new emotion passed through the wyrms eyes. It was not the rage or hunger that typically characterized them. It was fear.

Unfortunately, the horde pressed forward irregardless of the desires of the creatures at the front. Like a tidal wave of silvery flesh it pressed down on Arek. And he pressed back.

His guandao carved a shimmering path of green light through the air as he swept it in a wide swing that sliced through two wyrms in a single blow. Their scales, previously almost entirely resistant to his power, shattered under the strength of his strike.

Arek didn’t pause to wonder at his new strength. He rushed forward, spinning the weapon into a circle of destruction, and started to take back ground from the wyrms.

If he’d been killing them before, he was slaughtering them now. Blood turned into a fine mist around the orc as he burrowed into their ranks, tearing through anything that stood in his way. A ragged laugh escaped his throat as the bloodlust enveloped him like a protective cloak.

Inch by inch, Arek started to press back on them. He regained a step. Then another. And another. Even as the monsters pressed down on him, he pressed back. He was gaining ground.

The building to his side cracked. A moment later, it grew larger. Arek threw himself backwards just in time to avoid the wyrm that burst through the wall, crashing against the other side of the alley with a snarl of fury.

Wyrms pressed it through the new entrance to the alley, filling it faster than Arek could kill them. Even with his new strength, he was no longer fighting a one on one battle.

Their strikes started to land against his armor with scrapes of teeth and claws on crackling metal. Arek was pressed back faster than ever before as he shifted to a defensive stance, trying to keep the monsters back as best as he could.

It was fruitless. Within moments, his back was pressed against the end of the alley. Arek gritted his teeth as he thrust his guandao into the nearest wyrm, wounding it in the shoulder. A draconic head came over its shoulders, slamming against his chest violently. The wyrms had started to climb on top of each other to reach him.

With a curse, Arek leapt as high as he could, narrowly avoiding another attack as his fingers grasped the ledge of a house. He pulled himself onto the sloped roof and ran, searching for a more defensible position as the cries of the horde followed after him.