Chapter 100

Rain had meant to antagonise the Orcs enough that another would step up and fight him, better that than simply being executed, helpless to prevent it while the girls were held under threat.

But perhaps he had gone a tiny bit overboard.

Something predatory and dominant stirring deep inside of him had caused him to do something he hadn’t quite intended, literally biting Tamriel’s entire head off was ... dramatic, to say the least, not to mention calling the clan of very proud and vain Orcish warriors fluffy little bunnies.

The Orc’s as a result looked like they were having a collective rage heart attack, an apoplectic wall of forehead-vein-bursting spleen-shattering wrath that was screaming down at him from the stands on every side.

The only reason they weren’t charging the arena was because Rugnor had their attention. The huge Orc was stood on the sands, an authoritative look in his eye as he stared down the entire crowd, an aura of pure will radiating from his body in waves. He was a big, wide Orc with arms the size of legs and nobody wanted to go against him.

Even the higher level Orc’s in the crowd hesitated to approach the intimidating Rugnor. Rain wasn’t surprised, he suspected this one was significantly stronger than Tamriel had been.

From the edge of one of the stands several young Orcs were struggling and grunting with something, bent over as they dragged the mass across the ground with great difficulty. Rain caught sight of it as one shifted, a massive anvil, a wide gouge left in the sand as the enormous chunk of metal was moved.

The young Orcs finally made it to where Rugnor stood and they as one flopped onto their backs gasping like beached fish, chests rising and falling, desperately trying to catch their breath.

“R-rugnor ... s-sir...” said one raising a wobbly arm.

“Pathetic boy, you look like you’ve shit out yer heart.”

Rugnor reached down and his meaty fist wrapped around the shaft of the anvil hammer. He straightened, lifting the enormous thing with ease, the chunk of heavy metal weighing hundreds and hundreds of pounds held casually in one hand.

Rain eyed the hunk of metal uneasily, bad memories rising of just how destructive such a barbaric weapon could be, and more importantly the utterly ludicrous strength of the leveler who wielded it. This anvil hammer was decidedly more deadly looking than the last one too, black iron scarred with use, steel rimmed around the corners, stubby spikes scattered across the flat top. It looked like a weapon that had seen decades of use, decades of killing.

“I’s not one to take things personal like, but I takes exception to a monster calling me a little bunny wabbit. It would shame our clan to have a monster come into the heart of our camp all cocky like and call us such a thing without proper answer.”

Rugnor glanced from his hammer to the teeth currently orbiting Rain.

“Cute little fings those are, like little flies buzzing around an horse’s arsehole.”

He brought his free hand down to his hip and loosed a heavy butcher’s cleaver from his belt, the thing stained with crusted pig blood, blackened and browned with age.

Without even looking his arm snapped out to the side, the cleaver whipping out and connecting with a pair of teeth that had been sneaking up on him, the shadowy shape dissipating to mist as the metal struck it.

“Not fast enough with the hammer?” questioned Rain.

“Hammers ain’t fly swats, gotta use the right tool for the job.”

He hefted the hammer and eyed Rain.

“Now this hammer is more or less good enuf fer the likes of you, it is what we’s use ter squish monsters, what we’ve always used.”

“We? You share the hammer?”

Rugnor scowled. “Nah yah bloody idjit, s’was our family line uses, always ‘ave, ‘s tradition.”

Rain paused. “Oh ... So that’s why she used such a thing.”

The Orc blinked at him then furrowed his brow.

“Wha did you jus’ say?”

“You aren’t the first Orc I’ve fought to use a hammer like that. There was an Orc called Ola who had one like it too.”

The boisterous crowd quieted as Rain spoke, the cheering and jeering dropping off suddenly, awkwardly, the name drop having a chilling effect.

“Why do you know that name? WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?!” roared Rugnor taking a threatening step forward.

“She was in the dungeon, we met and she tried to kill me ... and she died trying to do so.”

The aura of will that surrounded the Orc boiled, changing, a feeling of heated Wrath filling the air.

“My niece ... you killed my...” He drew in a ragged calming breath but became no less agitated. “I ser’pose I should be grateful,” he managed to grit out. “When a leveler dies in a dungeon and the monster that killed them escapes then that monster will almos’ nevah be found and brought low for what they did. Vengeance is as rare as pickled hen’s teeth. Too many monsters lookin’ alike and too big ‘a dungeons ter find ‘em.”

Rugnor lifted one heavy boot and slammed it down. The dark centipede that had been trying to stealthily crawl toward his ankle was crushed into a puff of shadow with a boom. The sand trembling under the impact.

“So know am not taking this opportunity for granted wolf when I make you a broken mangled thing that makes pig offal look purdey in comparison.”

Rain shrugged lightly. “She demanded I fight her then forced the issue, I would have left her alone if she had left me alone. Basically she made a mistake, like stubbing your toe, seems like a pretty petty thing to avenge to be honest. Who avenges a stubbed toe?”

“You killed her monster.”

“If a bunny rabbit walks into an open fire is it the fire you take vengeance on? I am a ‘sub-sapient’ monster, you’re getting mad at nothing, just an unthinking thing like fire or water.”

Rugnor did not seem to like this portrayal. He sneered and the fist around the shaft of the hammer became white knuckle.

“Trying to twist things all up with words like some slimy merchant fuck, try and squirm all youse want there’s still gonna be nothin’ left of youse by the time I’m done.”

” ... Like there was nothing left of Ola after I ate her alive?”

Rugnor’s face became stricken then a cold dark fury filled his eyes. He swung the hammer up in both hands, cleaver pressed to the shaft, and with a bellow of rage stormed forward, his heavy boots pounding the sand, heavy and swift, like a great war drum.

Rain watched then stepped back a fearful look on his face, eyes wide, paws rising to protect against the oncoming threat. He backed up quickly now near stumbling, Rugnor came on sensing weakness.

One thing Rain was grateful for having learned in his past life: In a fight for your existence there was no shame in cheating as flagrantly and as much as possible.

The sand erupted around Rugnor’s legs and the six bear trap teeth he had formed in the sand under his footpads lunged at the enormous Orc.

Rugnor reacted slowly, his rash mistake in using both hands on the anvil hammer limiting what he could do, Rain’s provocation causing him to fall fully into the trap.

The nearest set of teeth was right next to his boot and it lunged upward, in a flash the teeth sunk into Rugnor’s calf and inches of flesh were ripped free. The rest of his skin and muscle and fat went berserk as the urge to flee exploded through it on every biological level, here was a predator and it was prey, even cells understood that.

Rugnor let out a frustrated scream of pain, spittle flying from his mouth, but in the same moment he swung the hammer down as hard as he could, myriad Skills triggering in a fraction of a moment.

Rain had heard stories of meteors landing in the woods. Those long lines of light sometimes seen flashing across the night sky supposedly could come down to earth creating great craters and felling dozens of trees.

This felt like how he imagined being near that would ... times ten.

The ground went concave.

Rain’s feet lifted away from the sand, or rather the sand dropped below him, the ground sinking under the sheer impact. In the short moment he was airborne he had a full view of all the wolf teeth instantly gasifying as an invisible shockwave ripped them apart. Spreading outward it struck him and his vision momentarily went dark as consciousness flickered. His Body went flipping through the air, and then he was in the stands, the wood shattering beneath him as well as several unfortunate Orcs. The entire square wooden section of the stands he had come down on tilted back, rising up in the air, looking like it was going to flip over, but then it came back down with a boom, sand and dust billowing around it.