One of the two orcs possessing god-like powers was getting serious; the moment he saw the effect his javelins created, he understood that staying still any longer was unnecessary. He had to close the account by destroying the person, the entity, the creature that had stolen things from him both physically and mentally.
He threw his left hand, designed by Michelangelo, forward as a fist. A sphere composed of crimson energy shot out and headed for the Seventh Apostle's shapeless torso. It was intended to show the effect created by the javelins; an attack of pure energy should have dealt much more damage, but the expected wasn't going to happen.
The Seventh Apostle hadn't lost consciousness; the damage he took from the previous attack was enough for him to learn a lesson. He escaped by moving his strange-looking torso steps to the right; the mobility of the body, which had a consistency like semi-fluid gel, wasn't bad at all. Perhaps he hadn't caught up to the speed of the javelins, but he was agile enough to escape an energy attack.
He was also strong enough to counter-attack; how could he not be? A thousand axes shaped with Dark Element energy directed towards Alyon. As the arms protruding from the Seventh Apostle's body threw them, it wasn't hard to understand that these arms belonged to orcs.
"Are you going to hit me with my own race? And with an axe at that?"
Alyon gripped the handle of his axe tightly. He drew a deep breath into every atom of his body and struck the first axe composed of Dark Energy, causing it to shatter. The Dark Energy dispersed, was trapped inside the crimson particles, and fell upon the shattered stone floor.
Another followed it, then the next, and all of them until the thousand axes were finished. They were like guided missiles; no matter where they came from, they turned and wandered until they found Alyon, and the Orc Chief sent them to the ground by shattering them.
When he destroyed the last one, Alyon raised his head and saw that there were thousands of arrows in the bosom of the night deprived of darkness, and they were coming upon him from human hands. When the Seventh Apostle changed his physical attributes by undergoing a transformation, he also changed his fighting style.
The creature, who previously attacked at the enemy's weak moment using his superior defense, was now fighting by making large-scale attacks from where he fixed himself. Alyon was alone, whereas he was shaped with the darkness inside hundreds of thousands of living beings.
The difference in quantity between them was as large as worlds; the Seventh Apostle could make attacks wide enough to easily hold a fortress wall in the defense of the Golden City. On the other hand, Alyon's axe never stopped; with the help of the crimson energy overflowing from his body and covering his weapon, the Orc Chief could neutralize the attacks coming upon him.
While the Seventh Apostle was hit with his own weapon, he was trying to do what he wanted to do to his previous enemies by using the frequency of his attacks and the abundance of his resources. He would endure; he would attack using the dark energies he swallowed until his enemy fell from power and stood vulnerable before him for the kill.
Even though Alyon destroyed thousands of attacks, he looked relaxed, and this state of his didn't please the Seventh Apostle at all. While spears, arrows, axes, and swords rained down on him in a downpour, the Orc Chief took a step forward without hesitating.
The idea of fighting by staying in place wasn't valid for him; the Seventh Apostle might be choosing this method, but he—the man who united the Orc Steppes, the grandfather of the Orc Emperor, and Alyon, who inherited a god-like power—would walk toward his enemy.
Thousands, tens of thousands of attacks followed his every step. When he had taken only five steps, the ground was filled with Dark Energy particles covered in crimson up to the knees. Alyon didn't stay idle in the brief interval between two attacks; he threw the Dark Element Energy stolen from its owners toward the giant pit.
He didn't even need to force himself to do this; when he revealed a portion of the crimson energy stored in his left arm, the others clung to it and flew into the pit. While obeying the stronger one seemed like an orc tradition, it was actually a rule placed upon the World of the Six Civilizations by the God of War, from whom Alyon took his powers.
The crimson energy came from him, and it was impossible for what came from him not to obey his rules. The bodies that had everything stolen from them were at least reuniting with the darkness inside them; they now had the right to suffer in the pit they fell into.
The Seventh Apostle let out a scream at an ear-piercing pitch when his powers were completely taken from him. His body was trembling; while all kinds of limbs and heads belonging to two races appeared and disappeared, three things began to take shape from the place contacting the ground.
When the duration of a blink passed, who these three creations were was revealed. Here, the three Great Generals who died on the greatest battlefield of the Middle Region and whose names once echoed across the entire World of the Six Civilizations were taking the stage once again.
It was obvious they had no consciousness and their bodies were shaped with Dark Energy, but no one could say they had lost their skills. In fact, this situation provided them with different advantages. By getting rid of the handicaps they acquired after using their serums, they could fight at the same strength, perhaps much stronger.
While General Eye turned into a hawk, he was released from his previous obstacles; he rose to the sky covered with twilight, becoming a black spot, a moving shadow, taking his place above Alyon.
General Tongue had already taken a frog form before dying; it wasn't hard for him to return to his old state. While he was a lifeless puppet inside his body reshaped by Dark Energy, differently, his size had grown.
He was twice as large as Alyon; his tongue was a sticky whip, and his range had grown large enough to reach his target from any point on the battlefield. The moment he began moving using his legs, he disappeared from sight; it was very hard to pick out even his afterimages.
Alyon now had two new enemies, one right above him and the other invisible to the naked eye, but it wasn't over yet. General Hair stepped onto the battlefield once more, thanks to the Seventh Apostle who took the darkness growing inside her and reshaped it.
Her end had come when her legs turning into roots were cut, preventing her from drawing energy from the earth; this time, it was impossible for her to experience the same fate. While her hair—hundreds of thick strands of hair—allowed her to move, it was impossible for her movements to be restricted.
Two of them were enough for her to stand, she could send the rest upon Alyon, and she lost no time in doing so. A few clusters of hair, with edges serrated like saws, came together to form whips the thickness of a human wrist.
The attack coming from Alyon's right side contained dozens of these clusters. The Orc Chief gripped the handle of his axe from the middle, turned his wrist, and the weapon responded by turning to this movement. The attacks coming to pierce and tear his body covered with green skin met his axe.
General Hair, suffering losses from its tip at every turn of the rotation, didn't stop; she sent out new ones. She was attacking with everything; she was deprived of the mind to restrain herself, and her other two friends had to follow in her footsteps.
After General Eye went into a dive, he turned into a black trail; his movement speed was always high, but it was likely he had exceeded the speed of sound now. If he continued like this and hit his target, it didn't matter who it was—they would be cloven in two.
Alyon raised his head; he was aware of his coming, but there was another danger appearing on his left side. The limb General Tongue took his name from was targeting his head turned toward the sky. The three former Great Generals had gone on the attack, completely rid of all their handicaps.
It wouldn't be easy for Alyon to decide, but if he waited for the duration of one more breath, he would no longer have a head to decide with. Even if he could stop two enemies with his axe and metallic left arm, one of them could reach its target.
What would he do? Would Alyon, who gained god-like powers, be able to save himself from the deadlock he fell into? Or was the story of one of the two figures stirring up the World of the Six Civilizations ending here?