Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 715 - Operation Arid Soil Part Twenty-Six

715: Operation Arid Soil : Part Twenty-Six

715: Operation Arid Soil : Part Twenty-Six

The creature seemed to be taken aback to actually receive an answer he could understand and recoiled in fright for a brief moment, then puffing his chest, presumably trying to appear bigger and stronger.

Then he stared at what he assumed to be Ir’Houwl’s eyes, which might be an attempt at intimidation, which did not go well as the undead did not react and the living ended up breaking eye contact first.

“Go get boss, don’t move” he scuttered away without daring to turn his back on the minor lord and her troops until a sufficient amount of distance was put in between them.

“My Lord, they look a lot like orcs” a soldier nearby spoke up.

“I do not think that we have encountered any species of orc that was adapted to life in the desert until now” another remarked, most undeads were used to seeing orcs in three different manners, there were the undead orcs that could be just about anywhere, coming in all kinds of forms and shapes as there were quite a few different species of them, from the ones that were sapient and capable of civilisation, to the ones that were simply monsters without proper intelligence beyond animalistic cunning.

But where orcs were most recognisable, were in the golems of Gravelord Atsalinopalo, as he had a whole army of high, arch and such orcs, though, as the name implied, they were golems of his creation that he had turned into proper vampires using his silver blood.

And then, there were the orcs that were a part of the Nosferatu vampires, with their strong physiques, they were naturally drawn to the overwhelming strength of the most powerful gravelord.

These one’s however, if they were actual orcs and not just a product of convergent evolution, looked to be on the weaker side of their kind, as a small group of them arrived, only the one who appeared to be the leader was taller than Ir’Houwl, and whilst a tall woman, she was around two meters tall, which wasn’t exceptional for orckind, and they seemed to be on the cusp separation sapiency from simple monster, meaning that they were neither overwhelmingly strong, or very intelligent, just average in terms of orc.

“Woman, you’ve come to challenge my ruling right?” the one she assumed was the chieftain was a bit more verbose than the fellow from before, so perhaps they had just run into the local idiot and these fellows actually wielded ample brainpower.

“This is your tribe?” she asked, ignoring his question.

The orc boss scowled at the disrespect.

“Indeed, I am the chieftain of the Sand Dune Tribe, Desert Splitter!” he announced proudly.

Not commenting on the uninspired tribe name or lofty title he had made up for himself, Ir’Houwl crossed her arms.

“Well then, Desert Splitter, Chieftain of the Sand Dune Tribe, submit to the empire’s rule, lest you wish to make acquaintances with the aspect of death we called agony” she pointed at the ground with her index, most clearly implying that he should at least kneel, if not kowtow.

A vein bulged out of his wide forehead, he held out his right hand and one of the other orcs gave him a large thigh bone that had been adapted to be properly wielded as a club, the craftsmanship was a bit better than what the first one had had, though not by much, there were no specific techniques used, they just rubbed the bone against something to wear it down and made a portion that could more comfortably fit in the end and provided balance to be used as a weapon.

Or at least was the intent, in practice, the white club was far from perfect and rife with flaws, but it shouldn’t matter to the chieftain, his style was probably to just smash and smash until whatever he was striking stopped moving, the orc way was typically to just brute force and dominate, even for those with human-level intellect, they tended to prefer this way over more complicated fighting styles and odd weaponry.

“You are presumptuous, woman!

I’ll break your bones and then-”

“Silence, what are you?

Trying to buy time like a little coward?

Attack if you mean to” the chieftain lost his composure, enraged to be called a coward, that was a most vicious word to throw his way, he, who had never backed out of a fight before, and had even fought a Watchful Hunter and lived to tell the tale.

“You’re dead meat!” shouting a factually correct statement without realising, he swing the bone-club down with both hands, fully intending on turning the arrogant strange into a stain on the ground, and Ir’Houwl didn’t even try to move, which he interpreted as her just not even being capable of seeing his movement due to how incredibly fast he was. freewebnøvel.coɱ

The club connected and instead of the glorious sound of shattered bone and blood splashing upon the sand, he felt vibrations travel up his arms and throughout his body, like he had just tried to hammer a nail whilst in extreme cold.

The chieftain nearly let go of his weapon, stumbling back a few steps with an incredulous expression on his face, not quite understanding what had just happened, the other orcs that had followed him also scratched their head, certain that the hit had absolutely connected.

He stepped forward again and swung repeatedly with only one hand, feeling like his attacks were striking a boulder, no matter where he attacked, be it the shoulder, head and knees, it was the same result, at one point, he stepped back and inspected his club.

“You here, come here” he said, and promptly hit the orc over the head, knocking the poor fellow straight to sleep.

“What is this witchcraft?” he muttered to himself before Ir’Houlw finally stepped forward.

“So, are you going to accept the empire’s rule, yes or no?

I can guarantee that the latter option will hurt, and I doubt you know how to handle pain”

“You continue to mock me, I’ll never bow my head to anyone, if you want something from me, then defeat-”

“Granted” with a swing of her arm upward, the minor lord manifested red sand, the stream slamming into the orc’s chest and crawling right over his face, however, she did not imbue it with any draining property, it was just the red sand alone.

It knocked the chieftain onto his back, and once the sand retreated, disappearing as it went behind the undead’s back, the orc was revealed to have had the skin on his chest and face scratched right off, leaving him as a twitching mess with eyes that were now forced to remain completely wide open.

“Alright, does anyone else feel like challenging me?”