Era of Players: Death God

The brawl raged on, a tumultuous symphony of grunts, roars, and the sickening crash of bone against bone. It was a chaotic dance of fists and fury, far from the graceful swordsmanship Noah had envisioned. Despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he fought with a primal ferocity that even surprised him. Each breath was a ragged gasp, every movement driven by an unyielding determination to survive.

Noah weaved and dodged, a fleeting shadow amidst the orc chieftain's wild swings. His punches, though lacking finesse, were fueled by a lifetime of brawls and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. They landed with a satisfying impact, chipping away at the orc's brute strength.

The orc chieftain, a mass of muscle and rage, retaliated with equal force.

Bang! Bang!

Each of his strikes carried the weight of a collapsing building,

Swoosh!

The wind whistled past Noah's ear as he narrowly evaded a devastating blow. Yet, the orc's attacks lacked the precision of Noah's. His swings were wide, accompanied by a guttural roar, leaving him momentarily exposed after each missed strike.

The dance grew bloodier with every passing moment. A crimson bloom bloomed on Noah's cheekbone, courtesy of a glancing blow. The orc chieftain bore a similar mark above his eye, evidence of Noah's well-placed counterattack.

But neither yielded. They fought like cornered beasts, driven by an instinctual urge to survive. Injuries accumulated – a torn muscle in Noah's arm, a split lip for the orc – yet they disregarded the pain, their focus fixed solely on delivering the final blow.

The once pristine village had transformed into a grotesque tableau of destruction, the flickering flames casting an eerie glow upon the scene. The once proud orc dwellings lay in ruins, reduced to splintered wood and smoldering embers, serving as a tragic backdrop for this brutal exhibition of raw power.

Exhaustion gnawed at Noah's bones, a dull ache radiating from every fiber of his being. His breaths came in ragged gasps,

"Huff! Huff!"

His vision tinged red at the edges. But surrender wasn't an option. Not yet. Across from him, the orc chieftain mirrored his fatigue. His once thunderous roars were reduced to guttural rasps, his movements sluggish and predictable.

Yet, in a final display of desperation, the orc chieftain did something unexpected. He mumbled an incantation in a language that scraped against Noah's ears. A crimson glow erupted from his massive fists, coalescing into a pair of ominous, red ethereal gauntlets.

Recognition flared in Noah's golden eyes. An Orcish Enchantment – a temporary boost of power fueled by their rudimentary magic. It wouldn't last long, five minutes at most, but it could tip the scales of this brutal dance in the orc's favor.

But Noah wasn't about to give up so easily. His mind, ever-calculating, raced through his options. He couldn't counter magic with magic – his reserves were depleted from the constant use of Mana's Armor. However, there was another trick up his sleeve, a desperate gamble born from necessity.

With a snarl that echoed the orc's earlier roars, Noah channeled his remaining mana. This wasn't about a full-blown Mana's Armor. He focused it all on his fists, weaving a tight web of raw energy around them. The air crackled with a faint blue light as the mana solidified, taking the shape of crude, yet deadly gauntlets.

Sharp spikes, reminiscent of brass knuckles, materialized at the tips of his fingers, gleaming with an otherworldly blue light. For a fleeting moment, man and monster locked eyes, two weary warriors clad in their forms of enchanted weaponry.

The silence that stretched between them was thick with anticipation, a prelude to the final, brutal act of this unorthodox duel.

"Grrrr!"

The orc leader's roar shook the earth, his enchanted fists pulsating with a sinister glow.

"Yaaaah!"

Noah echoed the primal scream, his voice hoarse but determined. The blue energy surrounding his fists crackled with power, a stark contrast to the orc's fiery gauntlets.

They clashed in a whirlwind of violence. The clash of magic-filled metal echoed through the clearing, drowning out the flames and their labored breaths. Noah, driven by desperation, unleashed a barrage of punches, each infused with the biting force of his energy. The orc leader, relying on brute strength and magic, met him blow for blow.

The clearing became a blur of movement, a deadly dance of bone-crushing impacts and agonized grunts. Noah, despite his wounded shoulder, fought like a cornered animal. He weaved and dodged, his mana gauntlets leaving trails of blue light as they collided with the orc's enchanted fists.

Bang!

A particularly brutal swing from the orc leader sent Noah flying through the air, crashing hard on his back.

''Gahah!! ★★★"

Stars danced in his vision, his mana gauntlets flickering weakly.

But Noah wasn't done yet.

''Ahhhh!"

With a feral snarl, he rose to his feet, blood trickling down his chin.

Drip!

Drip!

Swoosh!

The orc leader loomed over him, his glowing fists nearing the end of their enchantment.

This was Noah's final stand.

A desperate plan fueled his mind. He couldn't win in a straight fight of strength. He needed an advantage, a small opening. Concentrating all his remaining energy into his right gauntlet, Noah focused his will. The blue light intensified, morphing and solidifying into... a blade.

A short, lethal sword made of pure energy shimmered in his hand, an extension of his will and his last hope. The orc leader, sensing the shift in battle, roared in fury and charged, his fists aimed at Noah's vulnerable chest.

But Noah was prepared. With desperate speed, he sidestepped the orc's attack.

Saaa!

In one fluid motion, he swung his mana blade, the blue energy slicing through the air with a hum. The orc's enchanted fist dimmed as the blade connected, severing the ethereal gauntlet and striking the orc leader's wrist.

''Goruh!!!!!!!!!''

A piercing scream erupted from the orc's throat as the mana blade severed tendons and carved a deep gash in his bone. The crimson gauntlet dissipated, and the orc leader's magic depleted.

In pain and rage, the orc leader stumbled back, clutching his injured wrist. His once powerful strikes are now sluggish, fueled only by agony and fading adrenaline.

Seizing the opportunity, Noah lunged forward.

Swoosh!

His mana gauntlet, now a dim blue glow, struck the orc leader's jaw with a sickening crack.

Bang!

The orc's head snapped back, his eyes glazed over. For a moment, he swayed on his feet, a grotesque silhouette against the dying flames, before collapsing with a heavy thud.

Silence settled upon the clearing, broken only by Noah's labored breaths.

''Huff! Huff!''

He stood amidst the destruction, his body battered and drained of energy, the victor of this unconventional duel. The symphony of chaos had reached its climax, the final note a haunting echo of the brutality that unfolded. Noah, the Angel of Death, stood alone, his golden eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and... something else. Respect, perhaps.

He had faced a formidable opponent, a monster who fought with honor and emerged as the winner.

But the victory tasted bitter. The village lay in ruins, the orcs defeated, and Noah remained as the sole survivor in a landscape of devastation. As the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, Noah gazed down at the fallen orc leader. A flicker of pity crossed his features, but he soon shook his head and smiled.

Noah whispered with a mix of surprise and amusement,

"Well, that was certainly... unconventional."

Fatigue weighed heavily on him, but a glimmer of amusement danced in his golden eyes.

"Even if I had to resort to a little trickery in the end." No regrets. He had faced a formidable opponent, a warrior in his own right, and emerged triumphant. There was a peculiar satisfaction in that, a faint echo of the adrenaline rush he used to crave in battle.

With a groan, Noah pushed himself up from the ground, every muscle protesting. He surveyed the aftermath, the once-mighty orc village now reduced to smoldering ruins. It was a testament to the raw power that had been unleashed in this strange confrontation. Limping towards the fallen orcs, his gaze lingered on the massive figure of the chieftain.

A begrudging respect warred with his insatiable desire to claim his spoils.

With practiced ease, Noah collected magical stones from each fallen warrior, fifteen in total. The largest and most powerful stone emitted a soft, pulsating red light - a trophy from the chieftain himself. He carefully stowed them away in his item box.

Reaching the top of a small hill, Noah gratefully leaned against the rough bark of a solitary tree. The cool breeze mingled with warm sunlight did little to ease the throbbing pain in his shoulder, a constant reminder of his earlier audacity. He closed his eyes, the image of the orc chieftain's final, astonished expression flashing behind his eyelids.

The monster even smiled in the end, indicating satisfaction with the outcome. Noah indulged in one last brutal dance, a fitting tribute to the orc's culture. And for that, he couldn't be more grateful.