Age of Adepts c1-1513

by Zhen De Lao Lang, 真的老狼

  The war mammoth stampeded across the death knight's body, crushing his body and the skull that contained his soul fire into bits and pieces of bone.

  The desolate howl of a Third Grade death knight's soul rang throughout the air.

  The orc shaman sitting high upon the war mammoth's back waved his thick horn staff and started yelling in a strange language that no one could understand. A blinding red light gathered in his palm every so often and shot into the body of the mammoth below.

  A dozen orc spearthrowers gathered around the orc shaman. They shouted loudly as they threw the short spears in their hand at the unmoving masses of undead below. The war mammoth that had been sent into a frenzy by the Berserking Spell raised its trunk and let out a long trumpeting sound that echoed across the battlefield. It then charged toward the portal.

  In front of the eight-meter-tall war mammoth, most of the undead were like dwarves before a giant. They had no hope of stopping the mammoth's wild advance with their size and strength.

  However, this arrogant war mammoth only lived for forty-three seconds longer than the Third Grade death knight.

  The high-grade undead of the army let out a volley of spells under the direction of the liches hidden among them. Their barrage of spells turned the mammoth and the one dozen orcs on its back into tattered rags full of holes.

  The giant mammoth crumbled to its knees with a sorrowful cry before falling to the ground!

  A massive dust cloud was sent spiraling into the skies.

  Blood was still splashing everywhere. Broken limbs and severed heads danced int he air.

  Countless orcs were fighting and battling against the tide of undead across the sprawling frontline of the battlefield.

  They had forgotten death, putting their lives on the line against the enemy.

  Yet, their lives appeared to be cheap and worthless at this moment!

  With their axes and hammers, countless orc warriors bathed in blood, cutting or smashing to pieces the endless zombies. However, the thick, rotten, purple-black blood that splashed everywhere carried a terrifying virus with it. Clouds of yellow and green smoke erupted everywhere on the battlefield, causing the orc warriors caught within them to cough violently.

  The large areas of rot and pus that had appeared on their bodies caused them to bleed with every movement. Their bulging muscles quickly rotted away, and their muscular forms started to collapse and wither.

  Rotblood zombies, poison zombies, plague zombies.

  Undead with withered forms started to explode into clouds of smoke as the orc army slaughtered them. Soon, most of the battlefield had been engulfed in poisonous smoke clouds.

  These smoke clouds even started to gather into a plague tide under the manipulation of the high-grade undead. The wave then surged toward the places where the orcs gathered in the highest concentration.

  The orc warriors may not fear powerful enemies, but they had no means of dealing with these lethal, microscopic viruses that they could neither smash nor kill. Their previously tight formation gradually started to fall apart.

  Pupupu!

  A series of massive fireballs shot out from behind the orc army, creating a sea of fire in the middle of the plague tide.

  The shrieks of countless tiny poisonous insects gathered into one massive sound wave that reverberated in the air above.

  For a moment, countless poisonous insects and viruses were burned to death by the heat of the flames!

  That might not have stopped the advance of the plague tide, but it had significantly reduced the damage that the witches could deal with the plague. It allowed the badly beaten orc army to recuperate and not be immediately defeated temporarily.

  It was the orc shamans!

  The witches behind the undead cast cold glares at these orc shamans draped in hides and feathers, with magical tattoos drawn all over their faces and bodies.

  These orc shamans appeared to be skinnier and frailer compared to the average orc.

  However, given how large and thick the horn staffs they held were, smashing a few enemy skulls wouldn't be a problem either.

  In terms of ability alone, even the weakest of warriors in the orc army had a more outstanding Physique than an advanced body-refining adept. In fact, most of the qualified orc warriors in the army had bodies as tough as body-refining pseudo-adepts.

  Supposedly, an official adept of the World of Adepts could easily slaughter a dozen orc warriors. However, if the numbers were to increase by any more, then even a First Grade adept was at risk of injury.

  If both parties were engaged in a deathmatch with nothing reserved, then a First Grade adept might be able to exterminate twenty or thirty orc warriors. However, the adept themselves would die under the crude yet simple stone hammers of the orcs.

  It couldn't be helped. The bodies of the adepts themselves were far too fragile!

  If one could bypass those multiple layers of shields and magical defenses, then the adept himself might not be much stronger than an ordinary human. A blade to the neck or a stab to the stomach and even those noble adepts would die.

  Meanwhile, these orc shamans were like a weakened version of official adepts.

  The magical powers they possessed were far too crude. Apart from the Berserking Spell, Bloodlust, and Great Fireball, they had no spell or magic of great might. The more mystical aspect to the orc shamans was their ability to wield the powers of four elementium attributes simultaneously. Moreover, their enhancing magic, along with their healing and offensive skills, were all completed through the use of totems.

  They would place these one-meter wooden totems into the earth before them and rapidly summon the corresponding magical elementium in their hands. The magic they unleashed might not be very powerful, but it was swift.

  Greem narrowed his eyes and watched from behind the battle.

  According to the Chip's senses, he could tell that the strange tattoos on the bodies of the shamans appeared to be resonating with the patterns on their totems on a certain elementium frequency.

  The oscillation and fluctuations of the magical radiance from the tattoos and the totems were almost entirely identical!

  What was this? Magic resonance or elemental harmony? What method then did they use to cause a cold, inanimate object to become akin to a living being, and be able to sense and absorb the wandering elementium in the air?

  Were the totems miniaturized and weakened versions of an elementium altar?

  A series of questions rose in Greem's mind.

  No wonder those adepts loved to go on otherworldly conquests. As expected, any other world possessed plenty of mysterious knowledge and secrets for them to explore and decipher!

  At this moment, Greem wanted to capture an orc shaman, split his skull apart, and conduct some thorough research.

  However, even from a distance, he could see the muscular and well-trained orc blademasters surrounding the orc shamans. He had no choice but to stuff this idea into the depths of his heart silently.

  If the Skullsplitters were ordinary orc warriors, then these orc blademasters were elite orc warriors on the level of body refining adepts.

  They might not be very tall, and their bodies might not be as muscular as ordinary orcs, but their every movement was exceedingly fast and agile. The weapons they used weren't dull and heavy warhammers or greataxes either. Instead, they only used flat and long knives or terrifying longswords.

  That meant that their attacks excelled at speed and agility, along with explosiveness!

  If Greem simply charged over and got surrounded by a group of orc blademasters with their giant razors, he wouldn't end up much better than a piece of meat placed in a slicer.

  These blademasters possessed extreme physical explosiveness and attack speed. When combined with the four elementium powers that the orc shamans could summon, they became a challenging foe. There might not be any high-grade individuals among that group of shamans and blademasters, but even a peak Second Grade fire adept like Greem didn
't dare to test the waters.

  Maintaining a low-profile on such a brutal battlefield was the only way to survive!

  The orcs weren't just comprised of idiots with all brawn and no brain. Under Greem's observation, the orcs far behind the frontlines were most likely the true powerhouses of the orc army.

  Greem was only curious why they were being so patient and biding their time. They had yet to start an assault on the portal after so long. Couldn't they see that the orc army was almost collapsing under the attacks of the witches' forces?

  Chapter 818 - Lies and Deception

  Xan’tish Sharpfang was silently observing the battlefield.

  Seventeen elders and leaders of the Witherwater City Tribe Alliance stood behind his towering body.

  Fourth Grade Berserk Warrior Mau’ris was the most annoyed person among them all. He was continually pacing near Xan’tish, loudly complaining and questioning the strategy at play, “The brats have all gone charging up the frontlines! Are we just supposed to wait here and do nothing?”

  Xan’tish replied solemnly without even turning his head, “I have already contacted the Sala Tribe. They will be joining the war with thirty thunder rocs soon.”

  “Thunder rocs, thunder rocs, thunder rocs…are we orcs unable to fight without thunder rocs?”

  “We aren’t here to fight today. We are here to destroy the enemy’s portal.” Xan’tish finally turned his head. His broad and bloodshot eyes were filled with an unconcealable fury, “You have heard the holy decree of the beast gods themselves. The invading enemies this time are not the usual sort. They are fearsome witches who have sworn vengeance against us. If they establish a foothold here, then our Strongwoods Plane will be in danger.”

  “Then all the more reason you should let me onto the battlefield to slaughter them. I’ll butcher every enemy on the ground, and then you guys come from the skies once the thunder rocs arrive. Isn’t that even better? ” Mau’ris was still doggedly arguing.

  Xan’tish grabbed Mau’ris by the collar and stared at him angrily, “You are the most powerful warrior of our group now. As the leader of the Witherwater City Tribe, I command you to calm down and wait for the true battle to arrive.”

  “Hasn’t the battle already started? Our brats can’t hold the line for much longer.”

  “If you aren’t blind yet, you should be able to see what is happening. Not a single one of the powerhouses among the witches have shown themselves yet! What are they waiting for? Their plague beasts are powerful and many. Our orc army has no chance of winning against those monsters. That is why the witches are waiting…waiting for a chance to lunge at our own powerhouses and kill them all! You tell me, dare I put at stake the last force of Witherwater City without the absolute certainty of victory?”

  The two orc powerhouses had loud voices. The massive soundwave from them shouting at each other alone was enough to shock an ordinary human to death.

  The elders and leaders standing behind the two orcs were of various backgrounds. There was the minotaur chieftain, who had a humanoid body and a massive cow’s head. There were lion-people with lion faces and golden fur over their humanoid bodies. There were also harpies with gray wings and hooked beaks for mouths.

  Amongst all these elders, the cyclops elder was undoubtedly the largest and most eye-catching.

  The cyclops elder looked like a strong human who had been enlarged several dozens of times. He had a body, two legs, two arms, and the same facial features as a human. The only unusual feature of the cyclops was the single eye at the middle of his forehead.

  Ordinary cyclopes were ten meters tall– larger and more ferocious than war mammoths. This Third Grade cyclops elder, on the other hand, was a massive twelve meters in height. Disregarding everything else, just a single finger on his large hand was as thick as a human’s waist.

  The one eye on its face blinked continuously, a dense dirt-yellow elementium aura radiating from within. If needed, this cyclops elder could use three seconds to form a two-meter-wide boulder with the earth elementium gathered within his eye. He could then use his immense might to toss it at his enemies.

  Rock throwing was a racial ability that all cyclopes were capable of from a young age. They could hit any target within five hundred meters with pinpoint accuracy. As the most powerful person of his tribe, the cyclops elder could throw his rock as far as seven hundred meters away.

  These human trebuchets were the strongest fighting forces in the technologically backward plane of Strongwoods.

  Even the proud dragons that soared in the skies above didn’t dare to enter an area where the cyclopes lived casually. There had even been champions throughout the long history of the cyclopes who had managed to kill dragons all by themselves!

  However, the cyclopes on this plane had lost all of their past freedom and faith. They had been reduced to a powerful fighting tribe subordinate to the massive Orc Empire of Strongwoods.

  Upon seeing the two orcs arguing with each other, Cyclops Leader Apto bent down and ‘whispered’ with his thunderous voice, “Xan’tish, my kids have already been fighting for over two hours. They must be very worn out now. What do you think? Should we let them retreat and rest for a while?”

  The cyclops might be able to gather earth elementium into boulders, but this racial ability of theirs wasn’t without limit either. They might be able to last for a long time in an ordinary battle. However, the constant focusing of elementium and throwing of boulders had exhausted most of their stamina and soul origin.

  That was why Cyclops Elder Apto, feeling sorry for his people, had put forth such a request.

  “No!” Naturally, his request was rejected by the orc leader without any hesitation, “The situation of the battlefield is already difficult and dire. If we lose the suppressive fire from your boulders, the orc army will collapse. Have your people hold on for a little. Our assault party is almost here.”

  Apto sighed helplessly and straightened his body once more.

  Mammoth Leader Rieth and Centaur Elder Kanem, who stood beside the cyclops, looked at each other, their eyes filled with grief and concern. They too had tribe members fighting on the frontlines.

  The orcs might not compare to powerful fighting tribes like themselves when it came to Strength and Physique, but the orcs could conquer and enslave them through the might of their entire species. Why? All because of the orcs’ shocking reproduction rate!

  The lifespan of an orc was only sixty or seventy years, while their birth cycle was only a measly thirteen years.

  That meant that it only took thirteen years for a newly born orc to give birth to the next generation. Meanwhile, these fighting tribes had unbearably long birth cycles.

  The cyclopes were the most powerful and easily lived up to a hundred and seventy years, but their birth cycle took a hundred years. The mammoths were mighty beings and could live up to a hundred and fifty years, but their birth cycle took sixty years. The centaurs were slightly weaker, but could still live for a hundred and twenty years. Their birth cycle was forty years.

  As such, even though their individual prowess was far above the orcs, the overall might of their species was far inferior to the ‘weak’ orcs, who had been blessed by the Beast God!

  As such, the elders and leaders of the various tribes could do nothing about their precious younglings risking their lives to stop the witches’ forces, as worried as they were.

  …………

  On the other side of the battlefield, many high-grade witches had gathered before the portal. They were surveying the bloody slaughter occurring at the frontlines while listening to the surviving vanguard witches report on the situation of Strongwoods Plane.

  Strongwoods Plane was a resource-rich, mid-sized plane with high biodiversity.

  Naturally, the ones who ruled this plane were the main targets of the witches– the Orc Empire!

  The capital of the Orc Empire was located in a place known as Dweiden and was twelve thousand kilometers away. The closest orc
city was known as Witherwater City. Over one hundred and ten thousand green-skinned orcs of various tribes lived there.

  The orc army that had surrounded the portal and was currently attacking them had come from there!

  According to the information gathered by the scouting witches, Witherwater City had almost a hundred powerhouses. Powerhouses, in this context, referred to tribe fighters of Third Grade and above.

  The witch scouts had buried the locating stone seven hours ago. The first orc force–which had arrived five hours ago–was a squad of three hundred harpies. If it weren’t for the vanguard force being sufficiently powerful and well-equipped, they would never have been able to last until the witch forces arrived to reinforce them.

  It was precisely due to the covert nature of the witches’ operation that they had managed to catch the Orc Empire by surprise.

  The Beast God had detected the locating stone the moment it sent out a long-distance signal. However, the time he took to give the orcs a divine decree, and the time it took for the orc tribes to gather and advance toward the battlefield, had provided the witches with the best opportunity to open the interplanar portal.

  The armies of the orcs were still marching toward the battlefield, while the witches’ forces were still swarming through the teleportation gate.

  Just like that, the forces of both parties clashed in a deadly battle on the desolate plains. The witches had a clear advantage now. They were forcing the orcs away from the portal and were eating away at the orcs’ military strength.

  The orcs had always been a species where every single member could fight.

  Since Witherwater City had one hundred and ten thousand orcs, they could field an orc army of one hundred and ten thousand.

  However, the ones that could arrive at the battlefield early were still elites after all. If they were all exterminated here, then the only soldiers left would be the weak and elderly. They might not be weaker than a human army, but they were insignificant before the powerful forces of the witches.