Chapter 63: Absense

​The Orc captain, however, found the human’s face utterly hideous, far too smooth, far too weak, and far too human.

​The veteran slowly turned toward the scout who had summoned him...

​BAM!

​The scout crashed violently into the dirt from the sudden punch.

​The captain pointed an angry, green finger at the distant riders. "This is what you dragged me over here for?!"

​The scout groaned, clutching his bloodied tusk. "B-But Captain, the Chief explicitly said we should report any—"

​THUD!

​A heavy, leather-shod kick sent the scout tumbling through the dirt before he could finish.

​"Useless bastard," the captain spat on the ground, before turning to address the rest of the scouting party. "Kill them."

​Several Orc warriors immediately grunted in agreement. "As you command, Captain!"

​The warriors stepped forward, weapons drawn, and then froze.

​Every single one of them.

​Because the shadows beneath their feet suddenly moved.

​Not the ordinary shifting caused by sunlight... no. The shadows themselves stirred, twisting, rippling, and rising like a liquid wall of pitch blackness.

​The surrounding temperature plummeted instantly, and an unnatural, suffocating silence blanketed the dead forest.

​Then, a figure emerged, stepping out from the darkness as though crossing the threshold of another world.

​Twin daggers rested loosely in its skeletal grip. Its frame was cloaked in flowing, ethereal darkness that merged seamlessly with the surrounding shade, while brilliant azure soul flames burned within its empty eye sockets.

​The shadows around its feet slithered like living servants eager to obey their master’s command.

​For a long moment, the Nightveil Commander simply stood there, motionless and watching.

​Then, the blue flames within its skull flared violently, and a wave of pure, concentrated murderous intent erupted from its form, sharp enough to make even seasoned Orc warriors instinctively take a step back in sheer terror.

....

There were one hundred and thirty-four Orcs stationed around the perimeter of Lord’s Hollow.

​Now, every single one of them stood facing a lone skeleton.

​Their initial shock had already faded, after all, numbers brought confidence, and they possessed plenty of numbers.

​The captain snorted. He was a Fourth Realm Mana Circuit Cultivator, a battle-hardened warrior who had survived countless slaughters.

The fact that a bag of bones had managed to frighten him for even a fraction of a second only worsened his foul mood.

​His lips curled into a vicious sneer. "So this is the mighty force of the Starbound Intruder?"

​His booming voice echoed mockingly through the dead forest as he pointed the flat of his war axe toward the Nightveil Commander.

​"You appear before one hundred and thirty-four warriors alone?" The captain laughed, a harsh, guttural sound, before gesturing toward the two distant riders. "Don’t tell me those two and that oversized mutt are what your lord intends to use against us."

​The surrounding Orcs burst into raucous laughter.

​"What a joke!"

​"I thought this intruder would actually be something special!"

​"This is pathetic!"

​The captain grinned maliciously. "If this is all he can muster, then the Chief worried over nothing!"

​The Nightveil Commander offered no response, not a word, not a gesture, not even a twitch.

​The heavy silence only emboldened the captain, who mistook the absolute stillness for paralyzing fear.

​Just as he opened his mouth to order the massacre, a cold, ethereal voice drifted through the dead trees:

​"[Absence]"

​The moment the skill was invoked, the Nightveil Commander vanished.

​The physical shadows beneath its feet swallowed its skeletal form completely, erasing its presence from reality.

​The captain’s eyes widened in sudden confusion. ’Where—’

​Before the thought could even form—

​SHHHK!

​Thin, crimson lines opened across the thick throats of ten orcs in the front line, and a heartbeat later, fountains of blood erupted into the emerald sunlight.

​The captain’s pupils contracted in horror.

​Then—

​SHHHK!

​Another ten fell.

​Six different positions. Six different directions. It was as though six invisible executioners were moving through the battlefield in perfect, synchronized harmony.

​Thick bodies began collapsing into the dirt like felled timber.

​The captain’s survival instincts screamed in panic as his eyes darted around frantically, yet he saw nothing, only shadows shifting, twisting, and hunting.

​The first second ended: sixty Orcs lay dead.

​The second second began, and absolute terror shattered their ranks.

​SHHHK!

​SHHHK!

​SHHHK!

​The quiet forest turned into a slaughterhouse.

Orcs fell one after another, no one could react, no one could raise a shield, and no one could even identify the invisible phantom harvesting their lives.

​When the second second ended, another sixty Orcs collapsed into their own blood.

​The final second began.

​Blinded panic seized the remaining survivors. Some dropped their weapons and tried running, while others swung their massive axes wildly into empty air.

​It made no difference; the shadows claimed them all.

​Thirteen final bodies hit the earth.

​Then, total silence returned.

​Three seconds. That was all it took.

​One hundred and thirty-three corpses littered the blood-soaked clearing.

​The captain stood alone. Or rather, he thought he stood alone.

​Because suddenly, seven identical skeletal figures emerged silently from the surrounding shade.

Each held twin daggers dripping with gore, each possessed burning azure soul flames, and each stared directly into his soul.

​The captain’s face turned ash-white.

​A moment later, six of the figures dissolved into wisps of darkness, leaving behind only the original: the Nightveil Commander.

​The captain stumbled backward, pure, suffocating terror flooding his mind.

​Then, his left leg gave out beneath him...

​CRACK!

​He crashed heavily into the dirt. Only then did he notice the injury, a clean, surgical cut had completely severed the tendons behind his knee.

The wound had been delivered with such absurd precision that his nervous system hadn’t even registered the pain until he attempted to move.

​The horrific realization shattered whatever martial pride remained within him. The arrogant captain who, moments ago, had mocked the undead commander now looked like a whimpering child.

​"P-Please!" He threw his war axe aside, scrambling backward through the blood. "I surrender! Spare me! I was only following orders! I have a family!"

​The pathetic, desperate pleas tumbled from his lips in a humiliating stream.

​The Nightveil Commander merely stared down at him before stepping aside in a smooth, silent motion.

​The crisp crunch of approaching footsteps echoed through the quiet forest.

​The captain looked up through tear-filled eyes as the wolf-like chimera approached calmly, its serpent tail swaying gently while its leathery wings remained folded against its flanks.

​The rider at the front dismounted. The young man the captain had earlier dismissed as fragile landed lightly upon the dead grass.

​Pitch-black armor encased his body, the skull engraved upon his breastplate glowing faintly with necrotic energy beneath the green sun, while his sky-blue eyes remained calm, far too calm.

​The Nightveil Commander dropped to one knee, its skull bowed in absolute reverence.

​"My Lord," its voice was cold, crisp, and emotionless. "The hostile elements have been eradicated. Their leader has been secured."

​The commander gestured toward the trembling Orc captain.

​The captain’s breath hitched in his throat, his eyes bulging in sheer terror as realization struck him like a thunderbolt.

​The rider, the human he had dismissed as a weak follower, wasn’t a subordinate at all.

​He was the Starbound Intruder.

​And he had actually stepped outside the barrier.

....

A/N: And that wraps up the final Chapters of the month!

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