Rayne, a girl born into tragedy, is haunted by a traumatic past, burdened by the memories of killing her father and witnessing her mother's death. Bullied and isolated, she often struggles with self-doubt, thinking that she's better off dead than al...
A massive assembly hall soon came into view. Compared to Igris's plain residence, this was considerably more grandiose. Dazzling blood-red flags lined the stone pillars, swaying in sync with the occasional sputters from the flame torches. Statues of gargoyles perched along the ledges, forming a ring around the room. Colossal tusks and fangs jutted out of the walls as primitive home decor. But what's most sickening was the body bags strung across the ceiling. This Demon King was even more psychotic than the Commander. Igris might be a cult worshipping extremist, but at least he doesn't go around flaunting his kinky hobbies!
Noticing the monstrous hulks patrolling the entrance, I signalled my army to freeze. From an inconspicuous corner, I continued observing the situation. On either side of the chamber was a rumbling audience packed like sardines. An ocean of beady red orbs dotted the landscape. Accompanied by thunderous roars that vibrated the room. That's the sound of more than a hundred orcs chattering all at once. A faint tingle brushed past my scalp. Their numbers actually made Igris's calvary look like child's play. If this carnivorous legion somehow breaches the gate...
My gaze sharpened. At the very least...
I have to eliminate the boss.
On the opposite end, a flight of stairs led up to a throne embellished in banners and iron chains. There sat a cloaked figure shrouded in the surrounding gloom. All I could make out was the pair of luminous red eyes. Beside him were four guards standing at attention on the wide platform. All equipped to the teeth with greatswords, katanas, halberts and ridiculously huge brass knuckles. Unlike ordinary High Orcs, the quadra musketeers were plated in high-grade bronze armour and fur pelts. Tribal tattoos span every inch of their skin. Plus those ferocious faces, it's a chilling sight. As expected of the Demon King's closest aids. They're not pushovers. Then comes the million-dollar question of how to get past the guards to kill the Sorcerer in one fell swoop.
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Eyes squinted as I focused on the sole hooded figure in this barbaric arena. With an elbow leaning on the armrest lazily, he reclined on the seat of kingship. All while peering down at the puny heroes presented before him. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that he looked down on the human race, viewing them as no less than insects. That guy didn't even bother hiding the contempt plastered on his face.
As a fellow High Orc, Kargalgan had the same bright red skin and shimmering scarlet eyes as the rest. However, unlike your everyday run-of-the-mill orcs, he was far more polished and dressed up. Edgy accessories cluttered his body, including a necklace made of human skulls and a pair of red pauldrons. The crown of a mammoth-like creature was even fashioned into a shoulder guard. An array of neon teal tattoos covered his face, hands, and wrists. Even with a white mask covering the majority of his appearance, it still couldn't conceal his thirst for violence and cruelty.
