Chapter 793: War Came by Sea (Patreon)

“Hey, Luke...”

Artemis kept poking him in the cheek.

“Pay attention to your goddess. Stop thinking so hard about what I told you.”

“But that was useful information.”

“Okay, but you’re going back to the real world when you wake up. You can think about it there. Right now, you’re supposed to be paying attention to your goddess.”

Luke had a feeling she was getting more spoiled every time they met.

“Fine. Just let me make sure I’ve got this straight. [Artemis’ Spirit Slash] is a Legendary skill, and it isn’t Rank D. It’s higher. Right?”

“Yep.”

Skills had rarity tiers starting at Common, but they were also classified by Rank. The Eye of Sariel let Luke see both.

[Artemis’ Spirit Slash (Legendary)]: Blessed by his beloved Goddess through the [Blessing of Artemis], the Shadow Phantom Reaper can channel Spiritual Energy through his blades, unleashing slashes far beyond their physical reach. These attacks strike both body and spirit, allowing them to wound incorporeal beings and pierce spiritual defenses. The skill draws directly from the user’s soul, and excessive use can strain the spirit. Damage increases slightly with Lethality, Intelligence, and Spirit.

Information:Rarity: LegendaryRank: C

“That’s why there’s an attribute in there you haven’t even unlocked in the system yet,” Artemis said.

For now, only Lethality and Intelligence increased the skill’s damage. Those were already his main attributes, thanks to his assassin and witch classes.

Luke thought it through. “Lethality for physical damage, Intelligence for magical damage, and Spirit for spiritual damage...”

Artemis nodded. “Now do you get why it’s so powerful? If it kills someone, it kills their soul too.”

“You could’ve led with that.”

Artemis smiled proudly. “You can thank me later for my blessing. Actually, thank me now.”

Luke ignored her and looked at the description.

[Blessing of Artemis (Divine)]: The bond between Artemis and her Believer has long since surpassed the limits of ordinary faith. Between you, there are no longer only prayers, rituals, and distant reverence, but trust, a deep friendship capable of narrowing the distance between divinity and mortality. Through this connection, Artemis grants not only a blessing of her Legacy, but a genuine fraction of her own divine grace.

The [Blessing of Artemis] deepens your attunement with mana and the natural world. You can now perceive Spirits, sense their presence, and communicate with these manifestations of Reality. Your knowledge of mana has expanded. Within your Legacy, the potential to walk the Spiritual Arts has awakened, a rare and dangerous branch of power capable of wounding even Gods.

May your friendship with your Goddess continue to bloom... though, for Artemis, perhaps mere friendship was never the true destiny of this bond.

Capable of wounding even Gods.

Luke read that part twice.

"So you’re saying [Artemis’ Spirit Slash] might eventually get strong enough to kill gods? Like... permanently?"

Artemis gave him an innocent look. “Who knows?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “Oh, come on...”

“I’m already telling you way too much. If I just hand you all the answers, what reason would you have to come back? I’m a goddess. I’m selfish. I need to keep my handsome little believer interested somehow.”

“Technically, you’re the one visiting me by breaking into my dreams.”

“Minor detail.” She winked. “Now let’s get to the fun part.”

Artemis sat down beside him.

“I’m your teacher today. Aren’t you lucky? And I’ve got some very special lessons planned for you.”

Luke gave her a look. “Do these lessons involve Legendary skills?”

Artemis toyed with a shirt button. “What do you think? Ready for a private anatomy lesson?”

“You’d probably be in jail for sexual harassment by now if you weren’t a goddess.”

“Oh, then call the cops. Tell them, ‘Help! There’s a gorgeous woman in my room trying to sleep with me!’ I’m sure they’ll rush right over.”

Luke decided to ignore her nonsense, and Artemis pinched his nose.

“Find the Teleportation Array, Luke.”

“I will.”

“Your goddess is worried about you. And you can’t afford to fail the Kings of the New Era quest either.”

“I know.”

“And also...” She looked away, her cheeks turning pink. “With the Teleportation Array, you’ll... be able to visit me in person.”

“And why would I do that? I already see you in my dreams.”

Artemis stared at him for a second, then grabbed his cheeks and pulled.

“Hey, hey! I was joking!”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s what you get.”

They kept talking until the dream faded.

***

Luke slipped through the forest with his kukris already in hand.

Orc scouts fanned out through the trees, trying to flank him and cut off his retreat. He moved through the trees and low brush too fast for them to react, reaching the first group before they had even finished raising their weapons. His kukris opened throats and hacked through arms and necks before the orcs could defend themselves.

A group farther back drew their bows and fired. Luke slipped through the volley, vaulted a thick root, and closed the distance before they could fire again. A few arrows grazed his cloak, but none got through. He was on the archers before they could nock another arrow and cut them down just as quickly.

Two orc captains pushed through the survivors, larger and better armed than the others, roaring orders as they came. Luke stopped, raised one of his kukris, and watched motes of light gather around the blade.

“Artemis, you're my beautiful goddess.”

[Artemis’ Spirit Slash activated]

He swung once. A streak of blue shot from the blade. It passed through both captains and the orcs behind them before tearing deep into the forest. Trees split and rocks cracked in its wake. By the time it faded, it had cut a path deep into the woods.

[You have slain an Orc Captain - Lvl 114][+238 Soul Energy absorbed]

[You have slain an Orc Captain - Lvl 111][+231 Soul Energy absorbed]

[You have slain an Orc Soldier - Lvl 83][+33 Soul Energy absorbed]

[You have slain an Orc Soldier - Lvl 72][+28 Soul Energy absorbed]

[You have slain an Orc Soldier - Lvl 77][+30 Soul Energy absorbed]

...

Luke lowered his weapon. “I’m getting better at using this skill.”

Artemis’s invocation boosted the damage, turning every kill into something like an offering to the goddess. At least, that was how she had explained it. It was a damn good skill. Too bad he could only use it at full power once every twenty-four hours. Luke had tried forcing a second use early, and it wasn’t worth it. The second strike came out much weaker and drained his spiritual energy so badly that the cooldown got even longer.

A full day was already long enough. If he was going to use [Artemis’ Spirit Slash], he wanted the real thing.

By the time Luke reached the tree line, the forest opened onto a wide plain. Orcs filled the land ahead, thousands of them marching beneath torn banners with weapons resting on their shoulders.

That wasn’t a warband. It was an army.

There have to be more than five thousand.

The maps he’d copied from Baron Nyvma’s office had shown the Orc Lord’s troops moving through Jungral and Solvar territory. Now they were marching toward Rosemark, or close enough that it didn’t really matter. They were far too close to his kingdom.

A horn sounded somewhere across the plain, and another answered farther down the line. Several orcs near the edge of the formation turned toward the trees, but Luke was already gone. If they kept marching, sooner or later they would pass near his borders. He activated the Cloak and [Feline Agility] and pushed his stamina to the limit, crossing in hours what would have taken days on horseback.

When he reached Nyvma, he went straight to the house he was renting, still wearing his James Baumann disguise. Cecilia was there.

“The baron asked about Lord Moon,” she said the moment she saw him. “Rosemark called in the Emerald Cloaks.”

Rosemark was hiring adventurers and throwing absurd amounts of money at them. Even adventurers under contract to nobles were being released by royal order so they could take missions for the crown. The Orc King’s army was advancing along the coast, and the reports coming into Nyvma kept getting worse.

The roads were packed with soldiers, officers, and supply wagons from Jungral, Solvar, Rosemark, and their allies.

I’m going to have to go there.

***

Garen Voss fought through the streets of Farmarug. The battle was far from over, but the humans were finally beginning to push back. The allied armies had reclaimed part of the city, and the orcs were retreating street by street, building by building, leaving shattered barricades and bodies behind them.

Farmarug was a large, wealthy city with watchtowers, solid walls, broad streets, and a major port used for both trade and troop movements. The orcs had taken it anyway. Now the streets were full of barricades, bodies, and fighting.

“These are the orcs that took the city?” Prince Lorian asked, looking around with open contempt. “How did they manage that when they’re this weak?”

Lorian had insisted on being there despite his father forbidding him from joining Solvar’s wars. The king said he wasn’t ready. Apparently, the prince had decided Farmarug was the place to prove him wrong.

So far, everything had gone his way. Sir Jorah smashed through everything ahead of them, and Kyran was handling the orc captains almost by himself. Even the soldiers were starting to believe they might win.

“Your Highness, you should fall back.”

“Fall back?”

Lorian charged another group of orcs with his squad beside him, forcing Garen to follow.

“You’re here to advise us, not fight in the streets. If you won’t go back to Veyra, at least stay in the secured part of the city.”

“Don’t forget, Garen. You take orders from me.” Lorian cut down an orc and glanced over his shoulder. “And why would I retreat when we’re this close to victory? If I’d known it was this easy, I’d have gone after that Orc Lord myself.”

Garen let it go. Lorian wasn’t going to listen while every fight kept proving him right.

Farther ahead, Sir Jorah cut down a level 130 Orc General like he was nothing.

“Another general down.” Jorah flicked the blood from his sword. “How many generals have you killed, Your Highness Lorian?”

Lorian scowled.

Jorah kept moving through the enemy. He was a General of Jungral, a Rank D fighter. Wherever he went, the line moved with him.

“It’s something else watching one of them fight, isn’t it?” Kyran said as he stopped beside Garen.

“It is.”

“We need to move up,” Lorian said.

“Your Highness, Sir Jorah was only teasing you. We can’t beat an Orc General.”

“You’re telling me the three of us, with our soldiers, can’t handle one general? You’re wearing your war armor, Garen.”

Garen looked down at the armor. It had belonged to his father, back when he was still alive.

“Once this district is secure, we can think about it,” Kyran said. “People are still evacuating.”

Civilians had been trapped inside the city during the invasion, but the reclaimed streets had finally opened a way out. Soldiers hurried children, elderly civilians, and the wounded toward the secured district, many of them covered in dust and blood.

An orc vice-general came charging toward them. Jorah vanished forward with [Thunder Step] and drove his sword through the creature’s chest. The orc hit the street, and the soldiers erupted in cheers.

“Listen well!” Jorah shouted, raising his sword. “Tonight, we drink to victory!”

The soldiers roared back, and a few even laughed. Then another orc appeared at the far end of the street. He came at a slow walk, pieces of metal armor strapped across his massive body. Smoke rolled from the burning buildings behind him, and the nearby walls were black with scorch marks. Several soldiers stepped back before they seemed to realize they were doing it.

“Another orc,” Jorah said.

He activated [Thunder Step] and shot forward.

“Another one down,” Kyran said.

The orc caught Jorah’s blade in one hand. Jorah yanked back, but it didn’t move. He planted his feet and pulled harder. It still wouldn’t budge.

The orc punched him hard enough to send him several yards down the street. Jorah hit the stones and rolled to a stop. He forced himself onto one knee, blood running from his mouth.

“Fall back!”

The orc reached him before the last word was out. “Fall back?”

He planted a foot on Jorah’s chest and crushed him against the stones.

“Thought you were winning.”

The cheering died. Lorian froze, his sword lowering without him seeming to notice. Kyran didn’t move.

“That was your champion?” the orc asked.

[Orc War General - Lvl 147]

Everyone nearby stared at the same message.

“Wasn’t even worth eating.”

A roar rolled between the buildings. Something huge dropped from the sky behind the orc and slammed into the street hard enough to shake the stones beneath Garen’s boots. It had scales, massive wings, and a long jaw lined with teeth. It looked like a dragon. He looked at the blackened walls again. So that was what had done it.

The orc climbed onto the creature’s back, and it breathed fire over what was left of Jorah.

“Enjoy your lunch,” the Orc War General said.

Then the orcs poured into the streets from every direction as the winged creature launched itself back into the air. Soldiers shouted orders and called for reinforcements, trying to form defensive lines before the enemy closed around them. Others backed away without waiting for orders.

Garen couldn’t make himself move.

We lost. There’s no way we can beat that.

***

Luke reached Veyra in four hours, a trip that would have taken a week on horseback. He entered the city disguised as an ordinary civilian. Veyra had become the command center for the allied armies. Officers and messengers were everywhere. Every building Luke passed seemed to have maps on the tables and officers arguing behind closed doors. Luke listened long enough to get the picture, then left.

From Veyra, he headed for Farmarug and arrived two hours later. Farmarug was bigger than any city in Luke’s kingdom and better built too, but the fighting had torn it apart.

From the top of a hill, he could see fighting in the streets below. Beyond the city walls, orc ships crowded the smoke-covered coast and controlled the landing site. The human army had already reclaimed some ground inside the city, but Luke didn’t like what he was seeing.

Orcs gain experience by killing. But they gain it by devouring enemies too. These idiots don’t know that. They’re feeding the damn orcs.

Maybe the orcs were letting them think they were taking the city back. Let them push deeper, lose men, leave wounded behind, then eat whoever couldn’t get away.

Captains got stronger. Generals got stronger. With enough bodies, the whole damn army got stronger.

Or maybe the humans really are taking ground on their own.

Didn’t matter. More ships would come from the orc continent. If those ships were carrying larvae, the orcs could start breeding on this side of the sea. Once that happened, the coast would be a nightmare to take back.

Angie stood beside him, watching the city in silence.

“What do you think, Angie?”

She kept her eyes on Farmarug. “If the Orc King pushes inland from here, he’ll have to pass through Moonlight Kingdom to reach the Orc Lord.”

“And if the Orc Lord decides to come here first?”

“Same problem. He’d cross our territory on the way to Farmarug.”

Farmarug had to come first. If the humans retook the coast and held it, Luke could deal with the Orc Lord without an enemy army at his back.

And if the Orc Lord doesn’t know what’s happening here, maybe he’ll just keep marching wherever he was headed in the first place.

“Best case, we deal with them separately,” Luke said.

Angie nodded. “So we help the humans take Farmarug back before either army reaches our kingdom.”

“That’s the idea.”

Angie watched the fighting for a moment. “Then we’ll need Charlie.”

“Not just Charlie.”

“Everyone?” Angie asked.

“Our main fighters, at least.”

That included Nara and Norn.

Angie was silent for a few seconds. “The orcs are everyone’s problem. But getting all of them here... there’s no way. Not without spending days on the road. By my estimate, Farmarug will have fallen by then, and the orc army will already be moving inland.”

“Then they’re not coming by road.”

Angie looked at him. “How?”

Luke opened his pocket dimension and pulled out the glass bottle, then smiled.

“My Flying Dutchman.”

<< Chapter 792 | Index | Chapter 794 >>