He looked towards the Succubus, his eyes meeting hers as she looked away smirking. She leant back against the rough interior of the cavern, eyeing Nicholas, awaiting his imminent death.

‘Fuck.’, thought Nicholas, he didn’t expect he would have been placed in this predicament so soon. He was thinking of fostering the poor girl, rehabilitating her so she may think and perceive people, specifically himself, differently. But as of now, there looked to be something of more importance to deal with. The Orc left it’s stunned state, resulting in it becoming more violent and aggressive. It began to tighten its grip, preparing to pulverize Nicholas where he lay static in its grasp.

A cold translucent blue began to coat him, intending to take his life. But as sudden as the frost had appeared, a thick cherry red liquid coated the individual as well as the hand it was located in. A pained scream entered the cavern and with it anger. But before that anger could be taken advantage of, the sound of gnawing took place. The sound of bones broken and flesh eviscerated was overheard, at its core, the sight of a lone individual was apparent. The individual tore and ripped into the hand that impeded him.

The orc released a piercing scream of agony, outletting the pain in a form of sound. It set free Nicholas as he came into contact with the solid surface, lying splayed along the bloody floor. He lifted himself up with his new legs, clenching his fists as he stared down the monstrosity that was before him. But what was not to say he was the monster himself?

He scanned the floor, before laying his gaze on the Orc, grasping around the hilt of a rusty goblin short sword, a dagger, that conveniently lay along his belt. Feeling the disparition of weight between the goblin short sword and his knife, he began to compensate for its lack of weight with improvised adjusted movements to suit his newfound weapon. During this time, the Orc had recovered from the boundless pain that came forth from its hand, more specifically, a mangled and deformed hand. It had lost a finger and possessed two deformed ones, in its place, a pure felt rage accumulated within.

*Lesser Orc Warlord*

The Orc looked towards what it referred to as a Demon. The figures mouth lay arched ear to ear, pieces of flesh, fragments of bone, and viscera, smeared over the Demon in needless abandon. It’s mouth, covered in a great rosy red of the Orc’s flesh, as it smiled back at the Orc. Fear as well as rage piled upon one another, intertwining into one, tainting the pure rage the Orc had possession of. The rage and fear in turn becoming indistinguishable between one another. It roared in spite of the danger and tightened it’s free hand around it’s warhammer, thrashing it upon the solid ground that distanced him from the Demon.

The warhammer emitted a translucent light blue, magic, as it came into contact with the floor. A pile of debris soared forth from the crater in a beeline towards the Demon. Rupturing the ground as well as coating the debris in the very same light blue the warhammer emanated. Debris and impending doom presenting themselves towards the lone individual, the pile of light blue exuding rocks barraded where the Demon stood. Ice spiked forth from the area, coated in dust and fractures.

The Orc looked on, satisfied with the destruction and chaos caused. It looked towards the young woman who watched from afar, her face covered in an indescribable emotion of surprise and confusion. She looked around the room before laying her eyes on the Orc, her face contorted into one of fear. The Orc in reply stared in glee, smiling with an indistinguishable shine, gradually approaching the woman, limping. The woman stared on, looking without batting an eye as the Orc approached.

The Orc ignorant to her stares, radiated bloodlust and the light blue aura from earlier. It would vent it’s rage out on the woman before it, it’s smile reaching an even greater intensity as she lay but metres from the Orc. But before it could clear the distance, a piercing pain spread along through the interior of the monsters throat. Dazed, it redirected it’s gaze towards the core of the pain. The one the woman who actively gazed in fear at, the Demon. The Demon had pierced through the side of the Orcs throat with a rusty goblins short sword.

With the Orc’s gaze now directed at the Demon, it opened its mouth wide, as if a gaping hole of death. Ragged razor sharp teeth lined the interior as it crushed down upon the behemoth, ripping its face into a indistinguishable wreck. Wailing gurgles consisting of fear, agony, and weakness, pervaded the vicinity. Followed through with the sound of a heart wrenching crush coming from the spectacle. A fist lay where it’s eye had been, as it pulverized the poor colossals brain.

*Lia Serak*

Lia watched in horror, fear, and contempt, as Nicholas pulled forth his hand from the Lesser Orc Warlords head. Blood and viscera covered his hand as well as his body as he immersed himself in the feeling of death and what seemed to be a form of adrenaline, as he stood there stagnant. The Orc’s corpse, a mangled deformed mess, lay covered in it’s very own crimson blood. It’s left hand, the result of Nicholas’ violent tendencies, as it lay strewn along in the dust. It’s face, covered in blood that poured like a waterfall from its socket. It’s throat, pierced and concealed in once again, it’s own crimson blood.

It was pure horror.

Lia, surveyed the damage once more, the corpse, her master, every detail, before coming to the conclusion, ‘He’s the monster, not the ones referred to as monsters, but himself… He’s death’. She shuddered in utter terror and dread, paling in colour simultaneously. What would he do to her? Her mind began to think up countless possibilities, all anything but good, as she began to chant a series of words. She closed her eyes shut as she chanted them, tears piercing through her eyelids as she did so. There were only 3 sole words. No more pain, no more pain, no more pain. She continued to chant the words as they slowly became an unintelligible mumble, before coming to a halt as she overheard the sounds of her master approaching.

She froze.

*Nicholas*

Nicholas was lost in the feeling of mana seeping through his pores. The feeling of what seemed to be adrenaline, leaving his system, and with it, his uncontrollable bloodlust. He took deep breaths as he began to view the conclusion of the battle. Corpse, blood, gore, it was nothing new, but it felt ever so bitter he did this himself. That this, was from his own actions. He had killed before, but nothing so brutal or severe as this. He looked towards his familiar, his faithful Succubus.

She was cuddled next to the wall, knees tucked in, as it seemed like she was chanting a few words in a rapid repeating manner. Her skin covered in sweat, and possibly, her face covered in tears. He viewed his own body to be distraught at the state he was in, he was perhaps on par with the corpse on the floor in terms of appearance. He could see why she tried to conceal herself from him, it was utterly intimidating and horrifying the way he looked.

He wiped off what he could before he looked towards the Lesser Orc Warlord’s corpse. It began to dissipate into the atmosphere before what was left behind was a light blue, possibly enchanted, dagger. It was not like the one’s sheathed in his belt, but something greater. If you were to compare the two, it would be as if comparing heaven and earth. He placed his palm tightly around the hilt, bringing it to his eyes as he looked over it, identifying it in turn.

Frost Dagger of Uruk

20 Damage 5 Magic Damage (Ice) 2 Agility

Durability: 19/20

Level Requirement: 16

Description: A dagger conformed from the cold pits of Itrajoln. It was made by the hands of the Elves, but found by the race of the Orcs. It had never met another’s touch since then, before finding you.

Quite a fine dagger if he said so himself, he looked over it carefully before placing it at his side. Discarding the goblin short side pierced in the Orcs neck as he looked on to the notifications received in battle.

Kills

Orc Warlord - Lesser x 1

*Congratulations! Upon the absorption of mana from your fallen foes you level up!*

*Level up* x 2

Constitution has gained a point through constant harm and depletion of health.

Intelligence has decreased 10 points through too great of a loss of mana and too great of an exertion of the individual's mind.

Skill Shadow Footwork has leveled up! x 2

Skill Combat Knife (Dagger) Mastery has leveled up! x 3

Skill Assassination has leveled up! x 1

Skill Identify has level up! x 1

Skill Lifesteal has level up! x 6

‘Shit, haaa…. Well, at least I get to live for another day. ’, Nicholas sighed, the sight of the loss of 10 points of intelligence caused him to be dismayed. 2 levels, practically lost, due to his reckless behaviour, but if it were to save his life, it was worth the trouble. He transferred his gaze from the notifications to his status.

Status

Name: Nicholas Gray

Class: Fallen Reaper

Race: Shadow Demon

Titles: The Last of the Shadow Demons, Slaughterer

Level: 17

Health: 34/240 (250)

Health Regeneration Rate: 0.20 per second

Mana: 23/260

Mana Regeneration Rate: 0.35 per second

Strength: 25

Constitution:24 (25)

Vitality: 20

Agility: 61 (77)

Dexterity:30

Perception: 20

Charisma: 5

Intelligence: 26

Wisdom: 35

Luck:4

Unassigned Stat Points: 10

Active Skills: Identify (Active) lvl (24%), Shadow Manipulation (Active) lvl 10 (75%), Mana Manipulation (Active) lvl 3 (52%), Assassination (Active) lvl 15 (57%), Summon Familiar (Active) lvl 1 (46%)

Passive Skills: Sword Mastery (Passive) lvl 3 (16%), Combat Knife (Dagger) Mastery (Passive) lvl 17 (23%), Shadow Footwork (Passive) lvl 22 (7%), Fear Aura (Passive, may be toggled) lvl 6 (9%), Lifesteal (Passive) lvl 6 (77%)

Affinities: Shadow element, Death element

He examined his status. He was partially annoyed due to the depletion of intelligence, but decided it was something not to fret about. He assigned all of his points to intelligence, in hopes to make up for the vast decrease and so that there would not be problems in relation to mana. Which was one of the reasons which lead for this situation to arise, or that’s what he believed, but majorly due to the low level of Shadow manipulation.

He finished up with his status, casting it away from his view as he looked on to his next problem, the young woman cradling against the wall. How was he going to deal with this Succubus? Nicholas was never one to be social with others from his troop. Mostly due to the utilization of a limiter, but since it is gone as of now, it wouldn’t hinder him as much in terms of this aspect of daily life. Although, it still left a deep imprint on himself, making him the way he is till this day.

He sighed, might as well try before calling it quits. He strolled along the corpses and rubble onwards to the young woman. But metres away from her, she stopped mumbling, she froze in what seemed to be shock or fear at the sound of him approaching. She silently parted her head from her knees, sweat, tears, and hair, covering her pale face. She sniffled in reply to the oncoming assault of tears, removing the hair from her view. Her eyes, rising up to meet the one before her, looking over her. Her eyes meeting a cold cobalt blue in contrast to her dimmed crimson eyes.

She winced.