Spreading Renown

An illusory vision flashed before Batu Skullsplitter's eye—the moment a gold dragon's flame pierced through his chest, snuffing out his life completely. "Is this my destiny? Damned golden reptile! Damned dwarves and elves!" In that split second, memories surged through his mind: thousands of years of orcs slaughtering one another across the Ugo Steppe, the ancient shaman sacrificing everything to buy time, and Monk charging fearlessly to his death. The hand with which Batu Skullsplitter gripped the Blood of Gruumsh trembled faintly. In this moment, he felt the fate of the entire orc race resting in his palms. If he could triumph, leading the Red Blood Tribe to conquer Evindeldan, the millennia-old yearning of the orcs would finally be realized. They would no longer have to butcher one another and turn their blades upon their own kin over barren soil and meager scraps. Their domain would encompass the entirety of the Feanso Continent! "Cowards! You will never defeat me—" Confronted by enemies converging from every direction, Batu Skullsplitter pointed his axe toward the heavens and unleashed a frenzied battle cry, as if challenging the entire world. Blood-Burning Rage! The orc's blood boiled throughout his entire frame! Boundless crimson light erupted skyward, threatening to dye the very firmament in gore. "Praise the One-Eyed God!" "Praise He-Who-Never-Sleeps!" The orc shamans threw their arms wide in unison, offering fervent prayers. A terrifying power descended from the skies, coiling around the orc chieftain. Empowered by these countless blessings, Batu's aura surged through multiple echelons, drawing close to the very pinnacle of the legendary realm. "For Moradin!" Lord of the Mountains Ed tore out a heart-wrenching roar. Dwarven royal blood erupted from his body, pouring into his warhammer. *Clang! Clang!* Flames of the Soulforge wrapped around his physical frame, accompanied by the crisp ringing of an anvil hammering and tempering his flesh. In that instant, Ed went so far as to smelt his very self into the Hammer of Bedrock! All at once, a bronze-cast iron warhammer nearly a hundred meters long and mottled with blood manifested in midair. *Hum—* Amidst the sonic reverberation of displaced air, it smashed violently toward the orc like a mountain plummeting to the earth. Batu gave a fierce shout, hastily thrusting his greataxe toward the sky, and the towering illusory orc behind him mirrored the motion. *Boom!* In an instant, an immense shockwave swept off their feet the tens of thousands of combatants present. Boundless gales tore across the land, and the sky groaned without pause. Shattered stone, withered timber, severed flesh, and discarded blades were all swept into the air, coalescing into a dreadful storm. At the center of that vortex, Batu maintained his stance with the greataxe raised. Though covered in wounds, the towering orc phantom behind him had shattered like brittle glass. Ed, on the other hand, was flung backward, carving a massive crater into the earth. Drenched in blood and drawing his last, shallow breaths, he still gripped his warhammer tightly. "Long... longbeard... Is that all the might your hammer has?" Ignoring the blood soaking his body, Batu let out a sinister sneer. Just as he stepped forward to end the dwarf's life, another crisp, stern shout rang out behind him. "Sworn foe, no mercy!" Batu whipped his head around, only to see the winged Avenging Angel swooping downward, a silver sword bearing the twilight's radiance cutting through the air. Countless beams of blade-light fell from the heavens in an intersecting weave, each resembling a splendid streak of the dying sun's afterglow. *Whoosh—* Blood-red totems circled the orc's body, shielding him against the tempestuous onslaught. Yet the totems soon dimmed. Dense wounds tore open across his flesh, spraying blood everywhere. A shimmering light seared the gashes, while roaring spirits of vengeance converged upon him from all directions. Even a true dragon would have found it difficult to withstand such an assault. Yet through his monstrous physique and unyielding will, the orc chieftain endured the onslaught by sheer force. "Even if I die, I will drag you self-righteous hypocrites into the abyss with me! Orcs have the right to walk beneath the sun, too!" Paying no heed to his lacerated flesh, Batu Skullsplitter hissed through clenched teeth. A one-eyed symbol manifested above Rhea's head—a venomous orc curse. The half-elf paladin suddenly felt her strength drain away; a heavy weight bore down upon her back, nearly sending her crashing to the ground. For a legendary paladin endowed with a sacred constitution, such a curse could only stall her for a brief moment—but that was enough. Gripping his greataxe, Batu charged toward Ed through the storm of blades, intent on finishing off the dwarven king. A feral malice gleamed within his sole remaining eye. "Aaaargh—" Once Ed Klein fell, the Mountain Kingdom would be left leaderless, and the orcs would still have a chance to claim Evindeldan! "Not good!" Realizing the orc's intent, Rhea beat her wings in haste and stretched out a hand, attempting to intercept his path. Yet it was already too late. Batu Skullsplitter had reached the dwarven king. He raised his colossal axe high, the corners of his mouth curling upward. Ed lay helpless upon the earth, his voice devoid of strength. "Orc, you will never set foot..." Batu Skullsplitter grinned hideously, the veins on his arm bulging as he exerted his full might. "A pity you won't live to see that day!" At that razor's edge of life and death, an ear-splitting sonic boom erupted above them. A shadow abruptly appeared, ballooning rapidly until it engulfed both of them. *Boom!* The earth trembled, and dust billowed in clouds. The colossal gold dragon swooped down from the heights of the sky like a falling meteorite, slamming directly onto the orc chieftain. A massive crater was blasted into the ground. Deep within the pit, the once-formidable orc chieftain was pinned beneath the gold dragon's talons, drawing faint breaths on the verge of death. His injuries were catastrophic. Across the burly orc's body, lacerations covered every inch of flesh; hardly an intact spot remained. His bones had been crushed nearly to dust, his joints twisted into grotesque angles, and his flesh flattened into an unrecognizable blur. The orc chieftain who had campaigned for over twenty years and unified the Ugo Steppe had finally met his end. "Pfft..." Batu Skullsplitter coughed up a mouthful of blood, a provocative sneer spreading across his face. "Hahaha... Ambushing from behind... Is this what the self-proclaimed emissaries of justice, the gold dragons, amount to?" A mischievous thought flickered through Cassius's mind. Adopting a righteous, solemn tone, he proclaimed sonorously: "When dealing with a villain such as you, what need is there for rules?" "Villain..." The orc chieftain repeated the word, his voice suddenly surging with emotion. "Villain? We orcs were betrayed and trapped by deceitful dwarves and elves, driven north of the Blackstone Mountains and forced to survive on that barren Ugo Steppe! For thousands of years, we butchered one another and bled endlessly over scraps of resources. All we wanted was the right to survive! Does that make us villains? Hypocritical golden lizard! A creature like you will never understand—" *Boom!* Scorching dragonflame engulfed the orc chieftain without mercy. The gold dragon exhaled a puff of blue smoke and mused, "Villains always talk too much. Better to finish it quickly before complications arise." At that moment, Batu Skullsplitter's soul rose from the charred corpse, shielded by some manner of blood-red divine power. Suspended in midair, the Blood of Gruumsh drifted up beside the soul. Reduced to a spirit, Batu stared at the gold dragon with his lone eye, as though witnessing something terrifying. He cried out in sudden horror, "No, you... you aren't a gold dragon! What in the world are you? Hahahaha! I see, so that's how it is! You aren't any different from me!" The gold dragon remained cold and impassive, remarking faintly, "Leaving so easily? You must leave something behind... at least." The gold dragon extended a massive claw. A powerful vortex formed at the center of his palm, plundering the lingering divine power from the Blood of Gruumsh. Batu's soul let out a furious roar as it ascended into the sky alongside the greataxe. "Damned wretch! Mark my words—your end will be far more miserable than mine!" "Hmph, baseless slander! Orc, you disgust me!" Rhea folded her wings and descended from the heavens. She gazed into the distance, her eyes narrowing slightly as her thoughts drifted. Nearby, the dwarven king slowly opened his eyes, struggling to push himself upright. Gazing at the charred, unrecognizable corpse beside the gold dragon, Ed spoke in a hoarse voice that could scarcely conceal his excitement. "Batu Skullsplitter is dead!" The dwarves and elves atop the ramparts finally snapped out of their stupor from the earth-shattering battle, erupting into thunderous cheers. "This is a battle worthy of history! That gold dragon has slain the orc chieftain!" "He killed Batu Skullsplitter!" "Moradin preserve us!" The orcs, by contrast, fell into utter despondency as if they had lost their very parents. Many shamans were driven completely mad, launching into indiscriminate slaughter. "Impossible!" "How could this be!" "Lord Batu was Gruumsh's favored! How could he lose!" The dwarves seized the opportunity to counterattack, unleashing volleys of arrows into the orc army and dispatching dwarven infantry to pursue the routed lines. With dwarven morale soaring and the orcs leaderless—even turning upon one another—the battle gradually degraded into a one-sided massacre. The gold dragon circled above the battlefield, swooping down time and again to breathe searing dragonflame, charring hundreds of orc warriors to ash with every pass. Hovering high in the air, the Avenging Angel raised her silver sword, unleashing countless sweeping arcs of blade-light that severed orcs cleanly in two. Faced with this slaughterhouse, the few remaining Eye of Gruumsh warriors and shamans attempted a counterattack, but it was no contest. Finally, the orc general Soro Blooddrinker stepped forward. Rallying the remnants of the army, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "We haven't lost! The orcs still have the All-Father's favor! Retreat! Fall back! One day, we will avenge Lord Batu! We will bathe Evindeldan in blood!" "Bathe Evindeldan in blood!" Blood-red one-eyed banners snapped in the wind as the orc army retreated in chaotic congestion, leaving carpets of corpses in their wake. During this disorderly withdrawal, the dwarves and elves harassed them incessantly, inflicting over ten thousand casualties. Yet compared to the dwarves, the orcs were simply too numerous. Even after such a catastrophic engagement, nearly one hundred thousand of them remained. The allied dwarven and elven forces were overjoyed. Raising their warhammers, spears, and bows, they broke into wave after wave of fervent cheers. "Moradin be praised, we are victorious!" "Evindeldan will never fall! The Mountain Kingdom stands eternal!" "This is a victory for justice and righteousness!" Looking upon the shattered ramparts and the heaps of corpses piled before the walls, Ed could not help but sigh, looking as though he had aged years in an instant. He turned to the gold dragon perched atop the battlement and said solemnly, "Lord Titus, you have saved my life, and you have saved our homeland. You shall forever be a friend of the dwarves. I will do everything within my power to repay this debt." The gold dragon nodded, letting out a low whistle. The dwarven king turned toward the half-elf paladin beside him. "And to you, our allies, our heartfelt thanks. The Mountain Kingdom will staunchly support Her Majesty Catherine Moonchaser's restoration and oppose the Council of Elders' grasp on power." Rhea nodded slightly, a smile finally gracing her lips. "Thank you. That is precisely what Her Majesty desires." Soon, her gaze turned sharp once more. "However... Gruumsh's plot has not ended. The orcs to the north remain restless. Until the matter is settled, I will remain in the Blackstone Mountains to help your Mountain Kingdom purge the orc threat once and for all." "Very well." Ten thousand rays of sunlight pierced the dark clouds, cascading over the earth. Beneath the reverent gazes of dwarves and elves, the gold dragon's massive, exquisite form shimmered, draped in a hazy halo like the first light of dawn. Someone in the crowd cried out, "Praise the Dragon of Dawn!" "All thanks to Lord Titus! He helped us hold off the orc invasion!" The gold dragon swept his undulating wings with graceful ease, circling lightly above Evindeldan before releasing a long roar. "Roar—" "Righteousness and justice are like the rising and setting of the sun—eternal and unchanging!" *** Thus, the massive Battle of Blackrock Mountain came to an abrupt close with the death of Batu Skullsplitter, chieftain of the Red Blood Tribe, and Soro Blooddrinker leading the remnants of the army in a northward retreat. The dwarves and their allies had once again repelled the orcs' southern invasion, preserving peace and order across the northeastern reaches of the Feanso Continent. In the wake of this bloody war, the renown of King Ed, the Lord of the Mountains, and Rhea, the Twilight Blade, surged even higher, making them beloved heroes celebrated in the songs of bards. At the same time, the mysterious gold dragon Titus stepped into the public eye for the first time, revered by the people of Feanso as the Dragon of Dawn. Draconic scholars surmised that Lord Titus was at least an ancient gold dragon who possessed legendary spellcasting prowess. The folk of Feanso rejoiced at the emergence of another virtuous and righteous protector, and many young metallic dragons even traveled to the Blackstone Mountains drawn by his name, eager to pay their respects and forge an acquaintance. *** The Great Anzetta Waste, Dragonblood Mountain. After months of refining his bloodline, the Cinder Emperor's true body had grown even more colossal, his length now reaching forty-five meters. The red dragon slowly opened his eyes. Gazing at the notifications refreshing before him, he exhaled a puff of sulfurous white smoke, looking thoroughly satisfied. [You have slain Red Blood Tyrant - Batu Skullsplitter (Challenge Rating: 24). Gained 60,000 XP.] "Stealing the killing blow is so much more satisfying than fighting tooth and nail," Cassius remarked from the bottom of his heart.