The night was supposed to be quiet, but it wasn’t. I had barely closed my eyes after the raid when the first scream tore through the ruins. Then came the fire, roaring, hungry, devouring the dry vines and wooden barricades we had so carefully reinforced. Smoke billowed into the sky, turning the moon blood-red.
[Emergency Alert: Kharadun Outpost Under Attack!]
[Base Integrity Dropping Rapidly: 68% → 41%]
[Hostile Forces Detected — Multiple High-Level Signatures]
The system’s warning slammed into my mind like a war drum. I was on my feet in an instant, my axe already in hand while my heart pounded erratically. Thragor had come faster than expected. Much faster.
"Up! Defend the walls!" I roared the second I was out in the open.
Screams echoed from every corner of the outpost. Orcish war cries mixed with the desperate shouts of my people. I burst out of the forge chamber into a nightmare. Flames licked up the outer gate. Goblin skirmishers had already breached the lower sections, while larger orc warriors poured through gaps in our defenses.
I spotted Lira pinned beneath a collapsed beam near the eastern barricade, a massive orc standing over her with a raised club. She struggled, spear just out of reach.
Without wasting a second, I charged. Brutal Strike surged through my veins as I leaped the final distance. My axe came down in a glowing blue arc, cleaving the orc’s arm clean off at the shoulder. He howled, staggering back. I followed with a spinning kick that sent him tumbling into the flames.
I heaved the burning beam off Lira, grabbing her arm and pulling her free. Her side was badly burned, but she was alive.
"Thank you," she gasped, retrieving her spear.
"There’s no time for pleasantries, kill every beast you can!"
We plunged into the melee together. My enchanted axe sang as it carved through goblin after goblin. The mana edge made short work of their light armor, leaving glowing wounds that bled profusely. I lost count of the kills as the system notifications blurred past.
[You have slain Level 2 Goblin Skirmisher. +8 XP]
[You have slain Level 3 Orc Raider. +12 XP]
I was making a little progress, but we were losing. Badly. These weren’t the disorganized caravan guards. These were veterans, coordinated, heavily armed, and led with brutal efficiency. For every enemy I dropped, two more seemed to take their place. Fire spread uncontrollably. The outer gate collapsed entirely in a crash of stone and timber.
I saw one of our fighters dragged down by three goblins, his throat torn out. Another was impaled against the wall by an orc spear. Bodies, my people, littered the courtyard. The air filled with the stench of burning flesh and blood.
"Hold the center!" I shouted, trying to rally them.
Garrick was fighting like a demon near the training yard, shield and sword working in tandem. But even he was being pushed back. Elara was nowhere in sight. My stomach twisted, but I pushed the thought down. Survival first. We were at war, and casualties were to be expected.
A massive club swung at me from the side. I dodged, but not fast enough. The blow glanced off my shoulder, sending white-hot pain through my body and cracking bone. Blood sprayed from my mouth as I staggered.
[Warning: Severe Injury Detected. HP: 77%]
[Adrenaline Surge Active — Temporary +15% Strength]
I roared and retaliated, the axe bit deep into the attacker’s chest, killing him instantly. But more came.
I engaged them, and the system kept alerting me every second.
[Quest Failed: Defend Kharadun or Evacuate]
[Followers Remaining: 6]
[Morale Collapsed]
Only six left.. The realization hit harder than any club. I glanced toward the rear passage, the hidden escape tunnel we had prepared. I still had the strength to run, at my top speed I could probably make it out without being caught. As long as I was alive, I could still rebuild, besides these people were just tools.
Before I could finalize the thought, a heavy presence descended amongst the chaos. The flames parted as a monstrous figure stepped through the shattered gate. Thragor the Crusher was bigger than any orc I had faced, easily seven feet tall, muscles like knotted steel cables, skin decorated with ritual scars and trophies. A massive warhammer rested on one shoulder, dripping with fresh blood. His eyes locked onto me with predatory intelligence.
[Extreme Danger Detected!]
[Enemy: Thragor the Crusher — Level 11 Orc Champion]
[Threat Level: Overwhelming. Recommend Immediate Retreat]
Level 11?!! I was only Level 5. The system had never warned me this strongly before.
Thragor’s voice boomed across the burning ruins. "So you’re the Orc Slayer. Pathetic. Grimgor wants you alive, worm. But I’m going to make you bleed first."
He charged, and here was no time to run anymore. He was too fast for that. I met him head-on, axe raised.
Our weapons collided with a thunderous crash. The impact jarred my entire body, nearly dislocating my shoulder. He was stronger, far stronger. Each swing of his warhammer forced me back, cracking the stone beneath my feet. I was faster, dodging and weaving with every ounce of my martial training, landing cuts along his arms and sides with the enchanted axe. The mana edge left glowing lacerations, but they barely slowed him.
I ducked under a horizontal swing and countered with Brutal Strike, carving a deep gash across his thigh. Thragor roared in pain but retaliated instantly. His fist caught me in the ribs, lifting me off the ground. I crashed into a pillar, stone shards raining down.
[Critical Injury! HP: 38%]
[Internal Bleeding Detected]
Blood filled my mouth. My vision blurred. Most of my remaining followers were down, Garrick was on his knees, sword broken, surrounded by orcs. Lira fought desperately nearby but was clearly exhausted. I still didn’t see Elara.
Thragor advanced, hammer raised for the finishing blow. "Grimgor will enjoy breaking you in the pits."
Desperation surged through me. I refused to die here. Not like this.
Something inside the system shifted, a hidden threshold crossed in the face of near-certain death.
[Desperation Threshold Met]
[Secret Skill Unlocked: Phantom Edge (Active)]
[Effect: Temporarily phase through one physical attack while delivering a devastating counter-strike. Cooldown: 24 hours. Cost: 50% Stamina.]
Power flooded my limbs. As Thragor’s hammer came down, I activated it. My body flickered like a ghost. The hammer passed straight through me, smashing the ground where I had stood. In that split second, I moved inside his guard and unleashed everything — Brutal Strike, Phantom Edge counter, and every ounce of martial precision I possessed.
My axe carved a vicious upward arc, slicing across his chest and throat. Blood sprayed in a wide arc. Thragor staggered back, eyes wide with shock.
For one beautiful moment, I thought it might be enough. But It wasn’t. The attack didn’t carry enough power to fully incapacitate him.
Thragor recovered with terrifying speed. His backhand caught me mid-retreat, sending me flying across the courtyard. I slammed into the far wall, ribs shattering. The axe flew from my grip.
[HP: 11%]
[System Warning: Critical Condition. Host at Risk of Death.]
I tried to stand, but my legs gave out. Blood poured from my mouth and nose. The world spun. Thragor loomed over me, one massive hand closing around my throat and lifting me effortlessly. His blood dripped onto my face.
"You fight well for a slave," he growled, breath hot and rancid. "But you’re still just meat."
I clawed at his arm, but strength was leaving me. Through blurred vision, I saw the last of my followers forced to their knees. Garrick was already out cold, and Lira was being dragged away, still struggling.
Thragor’s grip tightened, and I felt air slowly leaving my lungs. The last thing I heard before unconsciousness took me was his rumbling laugh.
"Grimgor will be pleased."
***
When awareness returned, it came in fragments.
Chains, heavy iron that weighed more than a ton held down my wrist and ankle. I could barely move, not because of the chains, but because of pain. My body was a map of bruises and broken bones, even breathing was painful
[HP: 16% (Regenerating Slowly)]
[Status: Captured. Severe Injuries.]
[Followers Remaining: 4 (Status Unknown)]
I was alive. Barely. Thragor had taken me alive as ordered. The ruins of Kharadun were probably ash by now. My fledgling empire had lasted less than a week. Was this it? Was this why I had been reborn, to die once again. There was no need denying it, if I could barely scratch Thragor, what hope did I have against the leader of the orcs. It was clear as day, this journey was likely my last.