Era of Players: Death God

Fifteen minutes melted away in the oppressive gloom of the Orc's Den. Sweat beaded on Noah's brow despite the cool air, a testament to the exertion of his previous fight. His muscles ached pleasantly, the familiar thrum of battle coursing through his veins. He was a predator in his element, and his senses were on high alert, scanning for the next challenge.

Suddenly, a guttural chorus of orcish growls pierced the tense silence. Five hulking figures emerged from the tangled undergrowth, their beady eyes gleaming with malice. They charged towards him, a wave of green muscle and gnashing tusks.

But this time, Noah opted for a different approach. He closed his eyes, focusing his willpower. With a muttered incantation, he unleashed his special ability – The Night of Death. An unnatural darkness, thick and oppressive, descended upon the forest floor. The orcs, momentarily blinded by the sudden shift, stumbled and roared in confusion.

Sunlight, already filtered through the dense canopy, was completely extinguished, plunging the world into an inky blackness.

This was Noah's advantage. He danced through the shadows like a phantom, his senses heightened by years of training in the dark. Nemesis, a blur in the darkness, became an instrument of silent death. The orcs, disoriented and swinging blindly, were easy prey. Their guttural roars were cut short by the swift, deadly whisper of Noah's blade.

One by one, they fell, their lifeless bodies crumpling into the unforgiving darkness.

The Night of Death, a powerful ability but one that drained him considerably. After what felt like an eternity, but in reality only a few heart-stopping minutes, Noah deactivated the ability. Light seeped back into the forest, revealing the carnage. Five orcs lay slain, their lifeless forms stark against the damp earth.

Noah stood there, chest heaving, the silence ringing in his ears. He had prevailed, but the darkness had taken its toll.

[You have earned 10% Exp.]

He ignored the system's notification as he continued forward.

The relentless pursuit through the Orc's Den eventually led Noah to a sight that momentarily stole his breath away. Emerging from a particularly dense thicket, he found himself at the precipice of a mountain range, its jagged peaks scraping the underbelly of churning storm clouds. But it wasn't the imposing mountains that captivated him.

Directly in front of him, cascading down a moss-covered cliff face, was a waterfall of breathtaking beauty. Sunlight, finally managing to pierce the dense canopy in a narrow beam, illuminated the cascading water, transforming it into a shimmering curtain of liquid diamonds.

The air shimmered with a cool mist that carried the faint scent of wildflowers, a welcome respite from the stale, orc-infested air he had been breathing.

The waterfall itself defied description. It wasn't a single, thundering plunge, but a series of cascading steps, each one a glistening turquoise pool before spilling over into the next. The water, surprisingly clear considering the depths of the forest, tumbled over smooth, moss-covered rocks, creating a symphony of rushing water and gentle gurgling.

A sense of peace, a stark contrast to the violence he had just witnessed, settled over Noah. He slumped down onto a large, flat rock nestled amongst the ferns, his weary muscles sighing in relief. From his pack, he retrieved a well-worn sandwich, its contents a welcome sight. He took a large bite, savoring the familiar taste of bread, cheese, and cured meats.

A swig of his invigorating tonic juice washed down the food, leaving a pleasant tingle in his throat. For dessert, he indulged in a few chewy cookies, the sweet treat a welcome indulgence in this otherwise harsh environment.

As he ate, he allowed himself to relax, the sound of the cascading water a soothing melody. He closed his eyes, picturing the comfort of the academy, the camaraderie with Arthur, Lilith and his goals. A small smile played on his lips. Even in this dark and dangerous forest, a sliver of normalcy, a reminder of the world he was fighting for, kept him grounded.

But the respite was short-lived. The weight of his mission, the orcs he knew still lay ahead, pressed down on him. With a sigh, he finished his meal, the last crumbs brushed from his lap. He stood up, his muscles protesting slightly, and stretched, the cool mountain air invigorating him.

He turned away from the cascading waterfall, its beauty etched into his memory, and pressed deeper into the heart of the forest, the echo of rushing water a fading lullaby in the oppressive silence.

''Let's keep going!" he departed shortly after.

Half an hour after his serene break by the waterfall, the melody of rushing water was replaced by a cacophony of guttural shouts and rhythmic pounding. Emerging from the dense foliage, Noah found himself on the outskirts of a sprawling orc village.

Gone was the verdant beauty of the waterfall's clearing. Here, the ancient trees gave way to a harsh and utilitarian landscape. Crude huts, fashioned from roughly hewn logs and animal hides, huddled together in a chaotic mess. Smoke billowed from central fire pits, casting an acrid haze over the scene.

Totems, carved with grotesque visages and adorned with the bleached skulls of unfortunate creatures, marked the entrances to dwellings, their presence a chilling reminder of the orcs' barbaric tendencies.

The ground was churned to a muddy mess from constant foot traffic. Dirty children, their bellies swollen with malnutrition, darted between the huts, shrieking in a language that sounded more like growls than words. Hulking orc warriors, adorned with crude armor and wielding an assortment of deadly weapons, patrolled the perimeter, their beady eyes scanning for any sign of danger.

The air throbbed with a primal energy – a sickening mix of sweat, blood, and the acrid tang of burning wood. This wasn't a civilized settlement, but a den of predators, a place where violence was a way of life. Noah, his senses on high alert, crouched behind a particularly large, gnarled tree, his hand instinctively gripping Nemesis at his side.

He had found the heart of the Orc's Den, and the true test of his skills was about to begin.

A tense silence settled over Noah as he surveyed the orc village. He knew a frontal assault was foolish, these creatures thrived on chaos. A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. With a silent flick of his wrist, he reached out with his telekinesis, focusing on a pile of dry tinder stacked near a central hut. A spark, unseen by the orcs, ignited the tinder, and flames erupted with a sudden hiss.

The orcs, engrossed in their own routines, were caught off guard. Shrieks of surprise and confusion erupted as the fire, fueled by Noah's telekinesis, quickly grew in size. Children scattered, mothers clutched their young, and warriors bellowed, their guttural roars echoing through the village. Panic, a potent weapon, had been unleashed.

The distraction was all Noah needed. With a silent prayer for enough mana, he channeled his telekinetic energy once more. This time, his target wasn't fire, but the crude wooden supports of a nearby hut. The air shimmered as the beams groaned under an unseen pressure, and with a loud crack, the entire structure collapsed inwards, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

The orcs, momentarily stunned by the collapsing hut, were thrown into further disarray.

Seizing the opportunity, Noah sprinted from his hiding place, Nemesis a blur in his hand. He wasn't aiming for a full-blown massacre, but a calculated strike to sow fear and discord within the village. A well-placed kick sent a hulking orc warrior sprawling, its surprised roar cut short as Noah's blade flashed in the dim light, severing a vital artery.

Another orc, charging at him with an axe raised high, found its weapon sheared in half by a well-timed swing of Nemesis.

His actions were a tempest of lethal precision, honing in on crucial individuals - a shaman uttering a malevolent incantation, a war chief issuing authoritative commands.

As each orc met their demise, a wave of terror swept through the village, escalating the panic to unprecedented levels. The orcs, accustomed to relying on sheer strength and predictable strategies, found themselves disoriented and destabilized by this enigmatic assailant, silently and systematically eliminating them, one by one.

However, Noah was not impervious to harm. The diminishing mana within him served as a constant reminder of the limitations of his telekinetic abilities. The burn, so familiar to him, reminded Noah that he couldn't sustain his relentless assault indefinitely. His energy was finite, and he knew that he couldn't maintain this level of intensity forever.

Therefore he decided to end this fight for good.

Using the Night of Death to plunge the whole village into darkness, true to his class the Angel of Death, Noah went on killing spree, killing everything in sight, it truly an hellish sight.

After a mere twenty minutes, the once-thriving orc village was reduced to mere ruins. Thick plumes of smoke engulfed the remnants of the partially demolished houses, bearing witness to the utter devastation that had unfolded. Not a single being was spared from the merciless slaughter that had befallen them.