Orc Lord

We hurried forward through the trees, until a small clearing was reached. Within were four War Orcs tired out from battle, and five more dead on the ground. Facing directly at me was what I can only assume to be a Small Baphomet.

It's definitely intimidating.

Instead of standing on the ground, it's floating a few inches off the ground. It's armed with a curved sword in either hand, and I can feel Magic Power brimming off its body. Not to mention it has that Demonic aura that just drives me crazy with all kinds of negative emotions.

I've learned the importance of lately, and don't forget to use it here.

Name: Hyannis

Age: 4 years, 2 days

Gender: Cisgender Male

Race: Small Baphomet; Monster

Sexuality: Bisexual, female preference

Skills (Embedded): 6/6 skill slots.

, , , , ,

Skills (Learned):

None

Blessings:

Fast Healing (Small Baphomet)

Curses:

Torment Curse (x3)

Status:

Body: Enhanced (Magic Armor)

Heart: Unstable (Proximity to Holy Attribute)

Mind: Corrupted (Torment Curse)

Soul: Corrupted (Corrupted Mind)

His information will be stored in for me to browse later.

His total amount of Magic Power isn't much greater than mine, but it is still more, which gives him the advantage as far as our opposing attributes go. I don't even need to figure that out, though. It's plain as day because of the anxiety I’m feeling facing him.

Thanks to , the Small Baphomet’s hate-filled eyes are focused only on me.

“I've used a skill to draw his aggression to me. Use this chance to strike him down!” I shout out motivating words to the War Orcs already present and they resume their attacks in earnest. My group charges in as well. The others attack while I stay in the front to draw the enemy’s strikes away from my allies.

I notice quickly that any blade seems to be slipping away from the Small Baphomet without doing any damage.

[[ allows user to ignore or take reduced damage from all weapon-based attacks below a certain level, according to personal affinity.]]

“Blades are no good! Use the blunt sides of your weapons!”

We keep dealing petty blows to the Monster. It seems remarkably difficult to finish him off. It swings one of its swords down at me again, and I hold up my right wing to block. However, a burning pain soon spreads. My heart jolts as I see the wing I blocked with disintegrating up to the hip joint.

That blow hurt badly enough that I felt pain from it. I really can't stand pain. In a fit of rage, I swung my other wing at the Small Baphomet’s head. I hit him so hard, his levitation stance flipped over, and his head smashed into the ground.

Feeling cocky, I grinned an evil grin. “Serves you right, you fuck--!”

A kick landed right in my face, splitting my lip against my tusks. I instinctively covered my mouth with one hand. I could feel blood filling the cracks between my fingers. The intense smell of iron was nauseating.

The Small Baphomet used the time while I was distracted to right himself, and he started to gather Magic Power.

“Chief! He’s using that spell!” Fiara called, her pupils glittering violet as interpreted the Spell Pattern being formed.

Spirits help me.

I don't have time to think my way through things, so I just use the first defense that comes to mind: my Holy attribute .

The Small Baphomet finishes forming his spell, and a brilliant white light flashes. I can see streaks of Magic Power, turned photonegative black, rushing against the edge of my . The attack managed to break through, and a pain beyond death assaulted my body. Why do all of this bastard’s attacks surpass my pain threshold?!

I grit my teeth, crossing my arms and wings in front of my body for protection. My right wing is only a third grown, but it’s something. I feel a cold, breezy sensation and realized that a full layer of my skin had been stripped away. In this moment of intense pain, my brain is processing so fast that this instant-death level attack feels like it's dragging out into the seconds.

In the end, both my ears were ripped off, my face was burned badly, and there were deep gashes in many places all over the front of my body. My good wing had been reduced to half its usual size, and the arms I had blocked with were gone up to the biceps.

Goddamn, it huuurts!

I managed to keep my eyes protected, so I can still see. My legs and vitals, protected by my Demonic Wolf fur armor, are all intact. My feet, though… it's all I can do to stay standing.

I don't have time to heal normally. Not to mention, I can't stand this pain for another instant.

The white light of is quickly taking care of my more serious wounds, but in the meantime, another sword strike is already aiming for my neck. My left wing is just long enough to block it while my arms are still absent, and the hot steel digs into my feathers and flesh.

I can't stop the effects of . If I do, this guy will start to attack the others. No, he’ll likely continue trying to finish me off, but he’ll also be able to focus on blocking the attacks of the others. They've already bruised his body so badly that he wouldn't be able to stay upright without . I have to give them the chance to finish him.

There’s also the chance he would run away to recover if I released my . In that case, we would have to fight him all over again. We can't waste that kind of time when there’s still three more of them out there.

But I also don't have much room to keep taking all of this guy’s attacks. There’s something I haven't tried yet. Since I'm losing blood fast and am on the verge of being killed, I might as well give it a shot.

. I start a small, useless hum, just to see.

[[ has produced a synergistic effect with unique skill . If a creature within the has a lower Will stat than the user, verbal commands will manifest as Law.]]

Will.

Will: 92%

My face is scarred with burns, and my lips are split and bleeding, but I take a trembling breath and open my mouth. I'm careful to imbue each word with the effects of .

“Be still.”

The Small Baphomet freezes in place, the tip of his sword a few inches from piercing my stomach. Attacks from my allies rain down on his back, but he doesn't move. When they noticed what was happening, even my allies slowed their attacks, confused looks on their faces.

I took another breath. It feels as if a very strange pressure is building up around me. Is this the thing called Law? I feel like something beyond Magic Power is being drained when I do this.

“Remove your .”

Sweat drips down the Small Baphomet’s temple, and I don't think he can understand my words, but he can surely feel himself deactivating his defense spell against his will.

I thought I would have to order an attack again, since everyone was just standing around, dumbfounded. But before I could, momma swung her axe and decapitated the enemy. Blood spurted out from his neck stump, and his body crumpled to the forest floor. Momma rested the shaft of her weapon against her shoulder and smiled brightly.

Maybe I should have expected her to come to such a quick decision. After all, momma is… I cast once more to remind myself.

Intelligence: 174%

… Always just hiding behind the mask of a simpleton.