Despite orks being taller than goblins, I would absolutely put them in the same category of green skinned fuckers as their shorter cousins.
Though I don’t know for sure their familial relation, exactly, their penchant for ruthless assholery left me guessing they are not too far away on the family tree. Separated by a mere branch or two at most.
All this being said, I wasn’t much put off by having to loot the three orks we killed. The System handled credits, splitting them between us. But we learned that their armor—what was left of it anyway—and their weapons we have to strip from them the old fashioned way.
In the meantime, there was the matter of the two floating souls that my ability was showing to me. Two, not three, despite there being three corpses in front of me on the ground. Either the System was being rather fucking picky about what souls were worth harvesting, or there was some sort of criteria that I didn’t understand.
Maybe it’s because I only landed the killing blow on two of them?
I thought, remembering that for the last one it was Huwett that sent the arrow nailing its mortal flesh to the world while its spirit was left floating off to my sponsor in the great beyond.
So only ones that I kill then? Good to know. For now…
[Ability Activated: Soul Usher (F)
Harvesting Soul Essence…
Soul Essence absorbed: 7…
Soul Essence absorbed: 8
Essence to next ability rank: 20/1000
Options available]
It was apparent that the level of the monster killed determined the amount of soul essence harvested. I found it nice to see that the progress toward the next ability rank didn’t go down after spending the essence I had gained earlier. Which meant spending it didn’t slow down the ability progress.
Really still only one option to pick though.
[Consuming Stats: Essence Cost 10 (5 x 2)
Sentient Spirit (Ork Scout) consumed, allocating gain based on Sentient’s highest stat.
+2 Strength gained, +2 Vitality gained]
The ork’s spirits gave me plus two to my stats, instead of plus one. Once more, the difference between a beast soul and a sentient soul showing itself.
My already rather impressive stats were growing with every fight. I pulled up my status screen to see just how far things had come.
[ Name: Adam Pierce
Stats:
Strength: 17
Dexterity: 44 (48)
Vitality: 36 (37)
Intelligence: 30
Willpower: 30 (31)]
I swiped the status screen away, my eyes moving from the number to land off towards the woods instead. My thoughts shifted from what I had now, to instead the potential of what I may gain.
Far off, among the trees and brush, my eyes followed the silver thread of my skill which was still attached to the ork scout. A scout that must have made it back to the settlement by now, and would lead me right to them.
I looked off to above the wooded canopy, the light of day already fading.
Soon.
By the time camp had been made, a fire lit, tents erected, it had become quite dark. Everyone was tired, mentally and physically, but that didn’t remove the fact that someone had to stay up for first watch, to ensure the orks didn’t repeat their ambush while everyone was asleep.
No one wanted to wake up finding a putrid, ugly green face looming over them.
“I’ll take first watch, not a problem at all.” I said as I smiled at Barry when he asked for volunteers.
“Sounds good to me. Nothing can sneak up on you, I’d bet.” He laughed, sending me a wink as he tousled his blonde hair. His smile was one that was infectious, and I found myself grinning back at him.
“I doubt it,” I said, knowing already that I wouldn’t have anything sneaking up on me that night, as I would be the one doing the sneaking.
The rest went to bed and I heard the confirming snores of their slumber within minutes. It was the sound that I had been waiting for and I stood up from the log we had placed near the fire and turned toward a direction in the trees.
A silver thread led off into the distance, and activated my [Shade Stealth] skill before quietly moving to follow it.
With a glowing mana trail to follow, it was rather easy to make my way through the forest, even with almost no light to go by and no tracking skill in my toolkit.
It felt like I was playing a game just following the sparkling quest marker. Except in this case the trail was silver-gray, and it was leading me not to a quest, but to a slaughter. A slaughter that I was gleefully looking forward to.
As I had hoped, the thread took me to a small encampment tucked into the trees. It wasn’t as filthy as the goblin camp had been in the Tutorial Dungeon. I wasn’t assaulted by the stench of piss and shit, at the very least. But it was still rather haphazard in construction. Hastily tied together sticks and bones kept large canvas tents upright.
My skill pointed toward the campfire at the near center of the ork settlement, where I could see a single figure lying on the ground with their back propped against a rock. It appeared to be nursing its leg, which confirmed to me it was the ork that had run away during the previous ambush.
I hope it hurts like hell, you green fucker.
Staying in stealth, I stalked about the area to get a visual from various angles. As I went, I counted the orks that I could see, each one being checked by my [Inspect] skill as I moved. I counted out nine of them, each ranging from level six to level nine.
All except the last.
Because, of course, it was a dungeon and having an optional boss sort of just felt mandatory. I’d be lying if I said I was surprised by what I saw. A large, wide ork, who looked to be the poster face of Orkish Vogue magazine’s most eligible bachelor.
[Orc Elite Warrior - Lvl 10]
He seemed far more put-together than the other orks in the camp. His armor was somewhat clean, for one, and he had fur that lined the shoulders and waist of his leather chest piece. Besides that, he still appeared just as ugly as the rest. His large axe was hung in a loop at his belt, and the weapon’s metal gleamed from the caught firelight as I snuck about.
Eventually I pulled back from the camp to decide on a plan of action. I knew I wanted to try killing them all, but I didn’t have to be an idiot about it and just run in swinging away with my sword.
I had been a tad too reckless when I attacked the goblins in the Tutorial, and I doubted the orks would be dumb enough to not realize the screeches of their brethren were due to them being attacked.
So, I decided that I had to play it safe, stealthy. At least for now.
I drew my blade and made my way to one of the tents in the area that was slightly off distance from the rest. A single ork sat on a shoddily crafted wooden stool. Because of his location, he was slightly out of view from all the others.
[ Skill Progress, Shade Stealth -> Lvl 2 Beginner ]
The notification popped into my view just as I came within striking range of the ork. It was a rather nice little bonus and meant I would have to think about putting time into training my skills in the future.
But that time wasn’t now.
I took one last step forward and brought my sword down with a two-handed grip. The tip of my blade pierced into the base of the ork’s neck cleanly, and I leaned forward to add my full weight into the blow as the weapon pushed through the ork’s spine.
Barely a gurgle escaped its lips as I killed it almost instantly.
[You have slain Ork Scout - Lvl 8]
I smiled as I mentally swiped away the notification in time to see the ork’s body thud softly on to the dirt, and the silvery orb of his soul to rise up at eye level above it.
[Ability Activated: Soul Usher (F)...]
The wisps of essence were barely absorbed before I was already sneaking off to my next chosen target. That was just one enemy, there were eight other orks I still needed to kill. My smiled never faltered as I went about my grim task.
The first four kills were simple enough, each a clean strike to the back of their neck where I separated their brain from their body. It was the most efficient way I could go about it given their armor and my weapon’s size.
Each time I received a notification and absorbed the glowing silver orb that rose from their warm corpse.
By the fifth kill, things were difficult. I had exhausted all the easy marks, as every other enemy in the area was within easy eye sight of each other. The risk of being detected was ramping up quickly, even with the otherwise relaxed atmosphere around the encampment.
I still made my way slowly up to the next large green brute who stood at a drying rack containing what I guessed were freshly skinned wolf pelts. He went about his tasks silently and slowly with an air of boredom, obviously not very invested in his work. Which was good for me, he never noticed my approach until I was already right up behind him.
My shadow loomed over him from behind, the firelight casting it out over the area, which finally got his attention. He turned around, his face still neutral as he surely expected to see one of his fellow comrades behind him.
Instead he discovered my sword rushing at his head.
His eyes widened in alarm as the steel bit into his neck and impacted his spine, but he didn’t die as easily as the others. He jumped back in alarm, rising from his stool which threw off my aim just enough.
Blood spilled out into the floor like a waterfall, proving my attack was still lethal, having severed a major artery. He fumbled about, trying to draw his own sword even as he lost consciousness.
Within seconds, he also lay at my feet in a growing pool of crimson.
The clatter was a problem, as I knew someone must have heard his final struggle as he clung to life. I slipped into the shadows behind the drying racks, reactivating my skill once more.
Darkness hugged itself around me just in time as another ork came rushing around one of the tents to the area only a moment later.
It stopped short after crossing the threshold into the small work space, its eyes landing on the body of their recently killed comrade. Maybe their brother, cousin, father? I didn’t know, and while I understood this group of orks were indeed sentient, and perhaps even a close knit family, I also knew that I didn’t care.
They had attacked me and my comrades first. And, they were standing between myself and my goal of becoming powerful enough to get out from under the thumb of the government, along with the shitstorm of bureaucracy that I knew was coming.
Hesitation just wasn’t in my vocabulary.
The wolf pelt in front of me was tossed aside as I burst from my hiding place, sword already thrusting forward.
“Arrgh!” The ork bellowed as it stumbled back.
My sword caught a glancing blow across its chest armor, and the follow up left only a thin red line across it’s upper arm. By then, it had drawn the axe from its belt and had squared up to properly fight me.
Luckily, the System seemed to still be feeding me a bit of knowledge regarding my weapon, as I knew the position and angle I needed as I deflected the rushing downward axe swing that came my way.
The impact rattled my arm and I was forced back, messing up my footing. But I at least wasn’t cleaved in two pieces.
Even with my levels, and my cheat-tier class, the damn ork was still big and no doubt had a higher strength stat than me. Blocking that attack confirmed such ideas right away. But that didn’t mean I was going to lose.
Before the damn thing could bring its axe back up, I lunged forward again, my sword slicing along the same arm as before. It yelped in pain, taking its hand off its weapon to pull the injured limb away.
Which meant I had another second of not being attacked.
I spun with the follow through of my sword, and kicked out with a vicious roundhouse I had learned from my highschool MMA days. My foot landed on the inside of the ork’s left knee and the pop I heard after told me I had dislocated the joint.
It fell to one knee, yelling out in pain once more.
My sword finally silenced the damn thing as I drew it across its throat in a lighting fast slash.
[You have slain Ork Scout - Lvl 8]
I turned heel just as the silvery energy of its essence was absorbed. The fight had been even louder than my last kill, which meant the last of the encampment’s inhabitants would be on their way.
My eyes settled on the energy thread of my Marked to Die skill, which was still tethered to the ork that had run away after the failed ambush. The tether was moving, meaning the ork was coming my way.
“Fuck, fuck fuck, shitty, goat-loving, goblin tits,” I muttered to myself as I quickly thought through my options. I had made a decision before even the sexual organs of the universe's most hated sentient race even left my mouth.
I took off at a full sprint, using every bit of my new dexterity to make a mad dash toward were my skill told me the enemy was coming. I barely passed two of the dirty ork tents before nearly running headlong right into the ork.
It was still limping, its leg wounded from Huwett’s arrow earlier. Which was good for me as I leapt at it mid-dash.
“Here’s Johnny!” I yelled as our eyes met.
His eyes widened as my sword was driven down into his chest, slipping between the leather layers of his armor and deep through his flesh.
[You have slain Ork Scout - Lvl 7]
Rising to my feet as quickly as possible I brought my sword into a defense stance just as another ork came running around a tent with his axe already swinging. Our weapons clashed in a spray of sparks and I was jostled backward once again.
The difference in strength was becoming a problem, but it wasn’t so large that I couldn’t overcome it. I just needed to keep myself moving, just as I had with the goblins.
My attention split itself between the enemy in front of me as I kept him lumbering in to make attacks. Each strike was rather extended on its part, allowing me an opening if I could only manage to time it correctly. Which sounded easy, given that I was much faster. But there was a problem.
“Gwrubfargh!”
The Elite Warrior wasn’t going to wait for me to finish off all his underlings, as he came barreling toward me at high speed.
I was forced to make a choice, either to risk going for the kill on the ork in front of me before the warrior reached me or try playing safe to go defensive fighting them both.
It was a choice that I had been presented with a few times in my life already. Playing it safe, or taking a risk. Each time, I went with the risky option. Certifiably suicidal gambles were one thing I didn’t fuck with, but I had never been afraid to take calculated risks.
My blade whipped forward as I dashed in at the ork. He seemed surprised, as the action was the first one in the fight that left me in an exposed position. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as he swung his axe to meet me.
The tip of my sword caught the jaw line of his face just as the blade his axe opened a gash on my left shoulder. I spun with the blow, doing my best to minimize the damage, but the bite of pain and warm trickle of blood already filling my sleeve told me I had still gotten a rather nasty wound.
My spin brought me to the right side of the ork, blade screaming through the air at its head once again while its own weapon was still trying to finish its full swing.
The warrior ork was just paces away by then, its thick legs pumping madly to reach us.
As it turns out, the skull of an ork isn’t as thick as you might think. Perhaps it wasn’t required to protect the small brain of such stupid creatures as much as a human’s. Or maybe the magical runes on my weapon made my sword more effective than I actually realized at the time.
In any case, I cleaved through skin, bone and brain matter, spraying the dirt with each as the body of my enemy toppled over.
[You have slain Ork Scout - Lvl 8]
[You have reached Level 11]
“Gargh!” The elite warrior yelled as he brought his axe down from overhead.
I jumped away at the last possible moment, the edge of the weapon slicing into the fabric of my cloak and jarring my body enough to send me into a stumble.
The warrior’s follow up swing I tried to deflect, and I nearly lost my sword for the effort. I barely managed to keep hold of the handle, the impact of the blow traveling up my arms and forcing me to wince as my shoulder screamed in pain once again.
“Fuck! That hurt you green shitstain!”
The ork paused for a moment, as if trying to decipher my words. Its ugly face scrunched up in what I could only guess was anger, as if it knew I was insulting it.
It was enough time for me to backpedal and gain some distance. At the same instant, I mentally activated my class’s ability and my body was quickly awash with a silver glow only I could see as eight souls rushed toward me.
[Ability Activated: Soul Usher (F)
Harvesting Soul Essence…
Essence to next ability rank: 79/1000
Options available.
Consuming Stats: Essence Cost 40 (5 x 8)
Sentient Spirit (Ork Scout) consumed, allocating gain based on Sentient’s highest stat.
+8 Strength gained, +8 Vitality gained]
I felt the change immediately, my muscles swelling and compressing down again, the subtle surge of energy as I breathed deeper. My boosted stats from my ability didn’t take any time at all to adjust to, as if they were a part of my existence all along.
“Okay then motherfucker. Let’s send you to your decrepit ass goblin cousin ancestors,” I raised my sword in my uninjured arm.
He answered with another roar and rushed at me once again.
1.12 Raiding the Soul Pantry