Chapter 115

Lykan

The Crack

BOOM!

One sound to signify a single strike on the ground. Dust and debris fired up, but in all nothing major happened initially. Anyone who was standing within a few paces of Lykan could feel a quick tremble of the ground as if a particularly overfull cart had rolled by quickly. Yet, there was more going on below the surface.

The ground itself held, if only for a moment. While everyone could tell that the force used in the strike was undeniable, for a second it looked like nothing happened. When the dust that had been kicked up hit its apex, that is when the ground finally could take no more.

See the strike hadn’t just gone out, but it had gone down as well. A focused strike leveled in all directions leading away from the grand temple.

Crackle.

There was a crackling sound as stone that had been expertly worked began to buckle and break. Duct work that had been built with expert craftsmanship and precision began to break away, as lodestones began to break free or shatter in their placements.

This shattering of stone began first deep below the earth and slowly worked its way back up to the surface. The force and energy used to generate this strike was but a single core, but a core of a legendary monster only found in one of the many labyrinths of the Titans. While the beast who created the core lived no more, its legacy and wrath were put on full display at this moment. For this one strike caused the world to tremble, if only for a moment. For one brief moment, a Ravenous Hunter from an unknown world was able to exact its true purpose in life. For one brief moment a Ravenous Hunter was able to enact devastation on the planet it had been taken to so many thousands of years prior. For one brief moment the world saw the power of the Ravenous Hunter unleashed upon the world.

RUUUMMMMBBBBLLLLEEE!

Just as everyone was about to continue their assault, the ground began to violently shake as giant fissures of land were exposed. An earthquake began, if an earthquake is what you could call such a devastating attack. The ground gave way beneath the orcish horde that had gathered. Buildings that sat abandoned by all occupants began to crumble and fall into the streets. Streets that quickly fell away to dark voids below.

A tiny crack began at Lykan’s feet and slowly worked its way forward. Splitting out like broken glass, a crack forming a streak forming into a giant fractal that eventually broke away.

GROAANNN!

Buildings buckled and groaned from the strain of trying to maintain their perfectly formed shapes. The only problem for the buildings and various structures of the city around Lykan was that their base slowly eroded away beneath them, making their form untenable. Within moments the one pristine streets had been brought to heel by one massive strike.

“NNOOOOOO!!”

As for the Orcs that had been on the street, many were swallowed whole. Some were swallowed into a shallow grave, only to have their grave filled in by fallen walls of stone houses. Others fell onto jagged rocks and protrusions that were plentiful in crumbling chambers below.

Still many lived.

A few stood like statues among the rubble. Only looking around in horror at the devastation one strike to the ground had caused.

The orcs that did remain, and those that managed to get to the few patches of land that had not crumbled to dust beneath their feet looked on at Lykan. At this point many who looked at his glowing red qi-filled eyes looked on in horror, as they saw a true monster before them.

For the first time in many of the brave warrior’s lives, they knew true fear. Even now after such a blow, the warrior’s staff glowed brightly. In the darkening night sky and falling debris, where the adversary stood was never in question. He glowed like an unholy beacon. A supernatural warning not to travel any closer, lest they court death.

It took a few moments for things to calm down. By the time the dust had settled and everyone was reasonably sure the ground would no longer break away beneath their feet, the more serious warriors moved forward. The first to move were the orc captains and leaders, their increased Attributes and status making them brave their way forward even though they themselves probably had the best understanding of the power that had been unleashed.

When many of the officers moved forward, they saw the few soldiers who had survived the direct strike cowering in place. Many noticed how the soldier’s muscles trembled as the tension of their current predicament filled them.

“What is the meaning of this?” An orc officer demanded. The orcs like most of the world had women who were naturally born with higher Power ratings. So the orcish societal power structure was like most of the world, women predominantly filling most of the leadership roles, with a few roles set aside for males who had proven themselves to be far greater than their fellow male counterparts.

This orc army was so female dominant that males were only allowed to join as cannon fodder and foot soldiers. Any males who proved themselves would either be allowed to join a different war tribe, or taken as a personal guard for one of the female officers. So it was that this orc officers, like all other officers in Antilla’s Horde was a female. When she looked upon the cowering male she could only shake her head in disgust.

“Pathetic!” She bellowed as she backhanded the male into the pit that was only a step away.

“Out of my way!” The female officer demanded as she pushed her way forward until she saw the line of bodies that were splayed out. From there she also saw the fault lines that all appeared to start from the feet of the human warrior before them. A human, here? The orc officer thought to herself as she looked at the stance the warrior was in.

Looking at the skinny human caused a myriad of converging thoughts to fill her mind. The human was small, as all humans are. Though she figured he was likely bigger than most, but still nowhere near the same size as her warriors. Still there was an unmistakable power that resonated from the man. Also what was curious was the fact that while he radiated power and killing intent, his face was calm, almost placid. He looked as if he was merely bored, rather than staring down an entire army of warriors.

Lyanta, daughter to the great war Chief Antilla was at a loss for how to proceed. Clearly the warrior was capable. She thought about surging forward, but then thought better after taking in the carnage around him. She thought about calling forth the elements to aid her, but found that there was nothing to call to at the moment. For the time being it felt as though the man before her was an illusion, something that didn’t exist. Though even that was wrong, as she couldn’t target the area around the warrior either. It was as if the area around the man ceased to exist to the power of the elements. A shiver ran down her spine at that sensation of loss. Still, she had to do something, it would not do for a daughter of the great War Chief to stand around doing nothing.

Fortunately for Lyanta she was saved. Galendra, a rival officer had also arrived from a different side street to the left of the human warrior.

“Charge!” Galendra shouted.

“ROOOAARRR!” Dozens of her most loyal troops shouted out their battle cry as they too charged into battle. Not wanting to be out done Lyanta began charging forward, wanting to join the fray. But she paused on her third step. Three steps, that was all it took for the warrior to strike out with his glowing stick. A glowing stick that landed against Galendra’s oversized face and caused a sickening squish sound to ring out.

Blood and brain matter sprayed onto the lines of warriors who were still charging forward. The flying debris must have blinded the warriors as they charged forward, only to be struck down once they hit an invisible wall.

A glowing light arced through the air at speeds that were too fast for Lyanta to fully process. All she could see was the afterimage of where the spear had been, and the sight of a brave orc warrior falling in a collapsed heap to the ground. Rib-cages were shattered. Knees were broken. Bodies were mangled all in the course of seconds.

Chills.

Lyanta told herself that it was just the cold night air that caused her body to shiver. But she found herself stopping her forward progress after the last loyal soldier of Galendra was cut down. She was now at a line of corpses. Somehow the platform in front of the warrior still stood, but only a few lines that didn’t have underground tunnels built underneath were standing. Lyanta found herself on one such street. There was also one to the warrior’s right and left. Three lines of attack.

By this point more and more warriors had appeared.

“What is the meaning of this!” A voice that demanded absolute respect sounded out. Her voice piercing in the night. Hearing the voice Lyanta felt her body quiver in fear for the second time that night. It was the voice of her mother, Antilla the plains conqueror.

Turning around Lyanta looked up to see her mother’s impressive form standing clearly two heads taller than the tallest of orc warriors. Lyanta herself had taken after her mother in that she was large and still growing. If given enough time and enough dragon hunts there was the chance that she too could take on the size of her great mother, but that would be years to come. For now, she was a head or more shorter than her mother, but still larger than the other male warriors. Making her easy to notice from amongst the regular soldiers who stood and stared on.

“Chief. There is one soldier who is giving us pause.” Lyanta said, immediately dropping to one knee to give a report.

Antilla looked down at her daughter for a moment, before raising her gaze up to see the one human warrior who was now surrounded by dozens of orc warriors.

“Galendra?” Antilla asked in shock as she noticed the female warrior and her fierce purple mohawk laying lifelessly on the ground. Antilla then looked down at her daughter, anger filling her stern face.

“Why didn’t you assist her?”

Hearing the words Lyanta felt like she had been physically slapped and recoiled at the statement, but she recovered and answered crisply. “Chief. I tried. Galendra charged forward not making any sign to give a joint attack. I moved forward to assist, but she and her soldiers were struck dead before I had taken my third step.”

With that Lyanta pointed to a spot just behind the great war chief to indicate where she had begun her charge. Looking back Antilla could see the spots of force that were kicked up in the dirt indicating large strides being taken. She followed the steps until they ended right at three full strides, then two steps needed to go from full speed to stopped. Looking at the debris and mess around, Antilla had one more question.

“He caused all of this?” Antilla asked.

Silence.

“Well!” Antilla all but shouted.

Hearing this, one of the male orcs who had survived the whole ordeal began stammering. “My chief he did. He spoke something about children. Then proceeded to kill everyone. Then he slammed his staff to the ground causing an earthquake.” The soldier who had muscles that were powerful enough to rip a living horse apart visibly trembled.

Hearing this Antilla nodded.

“Can you speak the Orcish tongue?” Antilla called out. This was a trick, one used to see if the soldier was telling the truth or not. It was uncommon to find a human who could speak the orcish tongue, even those raised as slaves had a hard time uttering most of the harsh guttural sounds.

“I can.” The human replied back in a voice that sent a shiver down Lyanta’s spine. He had a deeply masculine voice that spoke of power and dominance.

“You were not part of the standard defenses. Why do you stand before us now?” Antilla asked, her lightning quick mind realizing that reports of such a warrior, especially one being a human would have reached her by now.

“I was passing through and saw the battle. I also saw the women and children take refuge in this Temple. The outcome of the village was never in question. You would clearly win with such forces. Though I could not in good conscious let you slaughter the women and children. So I stayed and waited until you finally breached the city walls. That was when I made myself apparent before your warriors. I gave them the warning that these children and their protectors are now under my protection.”

He spoke so calmly, as if reciting facts of a clear day. Yet his words caused Lyanta’s hands to grow cold and clammy. She felt that if she were to raise her sword, she would find her grip lacking.

Moving a few paces closer Antilla looked until she was staring over the pile of corpses that lay before the man. Then she gave a slight shudder as she saw something in the man before her. While Antilla’s ability to analyze opponents for weaknesses was well known, very rarely did it give her pause.

In all of her life Lyanta could count on one hand the number of times her mother looked truly frightened, and after gazing directly at the human before her, it was clear. Oh, she did everything in her power to quickly regain her bearing. Anyone who was not intimately aware of her countenance or mannerisms would easily miss the subtle cues given, but Lyanta had noticed them. She had noticed them, for she too felt the same way when she looked at the man.

“Lykan Vov’Vita. You already have served admirably in war time and have been recognized as a true warrior of the people.” Antilla said. At that many of the orc soldiers who had gathered all gasped in awe. It was rare for one to earn the true warrior’s recognition from the gods. Especially to earn such a moniker while still being alive spoke to both valor and skill.

Silence.

The man didn’t speak, only stared forward with glowing red eyes like a demon.

“Tell me what it is you intend to do?” Antilla asked.

This caused the man to pause, as he visibly looked like he hadn’t thought about that part of his plan. Finally after a second he regained his composure.

“I will take the people in this temple and any other children of this city we find with me. We will leave here and not bother your forces.” The warrior who had been acknowledged as a true warrior of his people by the gods said. His voice loud and resolute.

Antilla stood there for a moment. This was a deciding moment for her, as she was still tense as she looked on. Finally after a long pause she nodded. “Very well then, take the children and their protectors and leave these lands.”

Antilla then turned to her soldiers. “Make it clear that this man and any who follow in his wake are free to leave without reprisal.”

Hearing that the man knocked on the giant Temple doors. There was a pause as first grinding metal could be heard, followed shortly by the giant double doors opening inward. Once they were barely open the human darted in, disappearing from view for a moment.

Then a short time later the man reappeared, followed by a dwarven female who peaked her head through the narrow opening. Once she looked and saw that a line had been made she gestured to the people behind her.

The warrior, Lykan, exited first. Then pointed to the left, right at a line of orcs. There was no malice in the gesture, but the soldiers that were in the way reacted as if they were being struck by a flame burst. Everyone darting away from his point. By this point the first woman came out, followed closely by a number of slightly smaller children. A few of the smallest dwarfs had to be carried by either an adult or in papooses on the backs of some of the older children.

As was dwarven custom only the adults were able to carry their weapons, meaning spotting the adult caretakers was easy as there were only five that had been chosen to watch over the fifty or so children.

The warrior spoke to the dwarfs in their own language, only Antilla nodded in comprehension of what was being said. With that Lykan pointed in the now clear path that led straight out to the souther gate. The lead female began walking, meaning she missed the display of power that happened next. When Lykan took off into the air.

Gasps.

Both the kids and orcs alike gasped at the sudden display of power. The warrior who floated ahead and who had risked his life to save children was as a god amongst orcs, which is effectively what he was. Seeing the display of power and the speed that he darted about making sure the entire line of children were protected and safe made Lyanta relax ever so slightly. She had been doubting herself, doubting her ability as a warrior. Still as a warrior, there was the lesson of knowing your limits and knowing when a position was untenable, and this was one of those times.

Seeing the power that the warrior had apparently been hiding all this time, Lyanta couldn’t help but feel relieved at the small miracle that had befallen her and her tribe. Even her mother seemed to be relieved as she then gave a gesture for the soldiers to scoot back some.

Only once the last child, followed by a protector left the building and were a good block away did something happen. The Temple that had stood at the heart of the carnage and earthquake, a living testament to the strength of dwarven craftsmanship began to buckle and groan. Until finally it too crashed into the deep fissures below.

Many didn’t know what to make of such an act. The Temple had been the main reason for sacking this worthless village in the first place. Yet, it had crumbled as if even the gods would deny their claim for victory.

Some thought it was sabotage, that somehow the flying warrior had done something to cause such an end.

“And what of it? Would you have done anything to stop it?” Lyanta found herself saying, causing the orcs under her command who were complaining to stop. After such a rebuttal everyone knew the answer, no one wanted to deal with such a force. The fact that he only defended children was their only blessing. Had he taken note to fight in the battle, a shiver ran down Lyanta’s back as she thought about that possible future.

The man was a god given human form. Always best to leave such monsters alone.

“Begin excavation efforts.” Antilla shouted at the orcs who were standing around looking at the fallen temple dumbfound.

With that efforts resumed. They still had their mission, and under Antilla’s rule they would find what they were looking for. They had just been sidetracked for the moment.

Only once the group of refugees were long gone, and everyone mostly distracted for the night did Lyanta make her move to ask her mother why she let them go.

Her mother, never missing a moment to teach said something profound “when you cross paths with an apex predator, lock eyes with the beast and feel the moment of death lock eyes with you. When you see that, then see that the apex predator is content to go away, you don’t question it. You don’t challenge it to a battle. You let it go, let it skulk off into the night and hope you never cross paths with it again. For the next time you two meet, it might not be so forgiving.”

“Wait, you mean you couldn’t take him?”

“HAHAHHAAA!” The laugh of someone who looked death in the face and managed to tell the tale. It was a dry hollow laugh, one that spoke of dark morose thoughts. “Think for yourself. If I thought I could take him, would I have let him go with the children?”

Hearing that Lyanta took on a defeated posture as she let the words sink in. The rest of the night was a cold and lonely night for Lyanta. Despite being in the middle of an army she felt cold and alone.