Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 536: Surrounded

As Ethan advanced, the surrounding turmoil seemed to decelerate, his mere appearance capturing the gaze of the entire battlefield.

The Orc legion took immediate notice.

From their ranks, an imposing behemoth emerged, each deliberate step causing the earth to groan beneath its immense weight. Verdant green skin, stretched taut over dense musculature, bore a tapestry of scars across its chest, telling tales of countless battles. Clutched in its massive hand was a colossal war axe, possessing an aura of destructive potential capable of leveling mountains.

Its predatory eyes fixed upon Ethan, a feral grin splitting its rugged features.

"So, you are the one commanding them," the Orc boomed, its voice a guttural rumble.

Ethan remained silent for a beat, his hand instinctively tightening its grip on his sword.

The Orc raised its colossal weapon, bringing it down to slam against the ground with a resounding bang, unleashing fissures that spiderwebbed outwards.

"The name's Grommash Bloodfang," it declared, a palpable pride resonating in its tone. "Mythic rank of the Orc clans."

Ethan released a slow breath.

"Ethan."

His reply was terse.

In the next instant, both combatants surged forward.

BOOOOM!

They collided with cataclysmic force, the impact reverberating across the field and staggering nearby soldiers. Ethan's blade met Grommash's axe, the sheer energy of the clash erupting outwards in a blinding shockwave.

Flames and raw power erupted as their weapons met.

Grommash let loose a bellowing laugh.

"Good!" he roared. "You have mettle!"

He swung his axe anew, an onslaught of crushing power, but Ethan sidestepped with fluid grace, countering with a swift slash aimed at the Orc's shoulder.

CLANG!

The blade struck true, yet the Orc's formidable physique shrugged off the blow, leaving only a superficial wound.

"Not enough!" Grommash bellowed, pressing his advantage.

A whirlwind of strikes ensued, the two warriors exchanging blows with ferocity that threatened to rend the very earth. The air itself seemed to warp and shimmer under the intensity of their assault, the space between them growing volatile.

Ethan's movements were a study in calculated precision, contrasting sharply with Grommash's berserker-like fury, a relentless assault fueled by sheer, untamed strength.

Another thunderous clash.

BOOOOM!

The ground beneath them fractured once more, both figures sliding back a short distance from the sheer force.

Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly.

He could sense it – this Orc was no mere brute.

Emerging from Grommash's rear, another formidable presence materialized.

A second Mythic-rank Orc advanced. Though somewhat smaller in stature, its aura radiated a razor-sharp intensity, its gaze cold and analytical. Twin curved blades were clutched in its hands, its posture radiating agility.

"Don't hoard all the glory, Grommash," it sneered, a smirk playing on its lips.

"Ragnok Shadowclaw," it added, its eyes flicking towards Ethan.

A subtle frown creased Ethan's brow.

Two Mythic ranks. This complicated matters.

Before Ethan could fully process the new threat, Ragnok launched into motion.

SWISH!

Its form became a blur, and in the blink of an eye, it was flanking Ethan, its blades slashing towards his exposed side. Ethan reacted with lightning speed, bringing his sword up to parry.

CLANG!

The impact drove him back, albeit only slightly.

Grommash seized the momentary opening.

"Now!" he roared, bringing his axe crashing down.

BOOOOM!

Ethan crossed his blade, blocking the devastating blow, but the combined onslaught forced him to his knees, the ground beneath him pulverizing.

For a tense moment, he was trapped between the two powerful Orcs.

Then, he pushed back with all his might.

A surge of immense power erupted from his body, propeling both Grommash and Ragnok away, a concussive wave radiating outwards.

"Not bad," Ethan commented coolly.

Meanwhile, on the broader battlefield, the conflict had escalated into full-blown warfare.

The Orcs engaged the remaining human defenders head-on, the disparity in raw power starkly evident. The Orcs surged forward with savage abandon, shattering shields and breaking ranks, while the human soldiers struggled grimly to maintain their positions.

Yet, they did not break.

Fueled by Ethan's presence and the tenacity of their commanders, the human soldiers gritted their teeth and fought on.

"Hold the line!" Han commanded, felling an Orc before him with a swift cut.

Hale stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, deflecting an incoming blow and immediately retaliating.

"We cannot falter here!" he urged.

The human formation tightened, a desperate, resilient stand against the overwhelming tide. Though pushed back, their resistance held firm.

Ethan, meanwhile, confronted the dual threat of Grommash and Ragnok.

The trio engaged once more, their titanic clash sending shockwaves of devastation across the embattled landscape.

CLANG! BOOOOM! SWISH!

Each blow landed with earth-shattering force, every movement inscribing its mark upon the ravaged terrain.

The duel between Ethan, Grommash, and Ragnok intensified, the surrounding battlefield disintegrating under the sheer pressure of their unleashed power, each exchange sending tremors through the war zone.

Grommash roared, his massive axe cleaving the air with a sound like tearing reality, descending directly towards Ethan's head. But instead of retreating, Ethan stepped forward, meeting the ferocious strike head-on.

CLANG!

The impact boomed like thunder, and for a fleeting instant, their opposing forces locked in a titanic struggle. Then—

Ethan moved.

With a slight twist of his arm, his blade glided along the edge of the axe, deflecting its momentum. In the same fluid motion, he closed the distance to Grommash and struck.

SWISH!

The blade sliced across Grommash's chest. Though it didn't cleave him in two, the impact forced the Orc backward, drawing blood.

Grommash's eyes widened in surprise.

"...You—"

Before he could fully react, Ethan had already moved again.

Ragnok emerged from the side, his twin blades whistling through the air in a precise arc aimed at Ethan's neck. However, Ethan leaned back, narrowly evading the strike. He countered instantly.

CLANG!

His sword met both of Ragnok's blades. The sheer force of the collision sent Ragnok staggering back, his feet skidding as he fought to regain his balance.

Ethan didn't grant them a moment's respite.

He surged forward once more, his aura erupting violently as he unleashed a barrage of rapid attacks.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Each strike landed with significant power, and the mounting pressure swiftly forced both Grommash and Ragnok onto the defensive.

Grommash attempted to counter with sheer brute force, but Ethan's assault grew sharper and quicker. Ragnok tried to outmaneuver him again, but Ethan's keen awareness left no openings.

Then....

BOOOOM!

Ethan unleashed a powerful burst, striking both opponents simultaneously. The resulting impact sent them hurtling backward.

Grommash slammed into the ground, carving a deep crater, while Ragnok was flung across the battlefield, barely managing to recover his footing.

For a fleeting moment, an opening appeared.

Ethan stood firm, his breathing slightly more labored, his aura flickering subtly.

"If I were at my peak..." he murmured to himself.

His gaze remained sharp, yet he could feel the truth of it.

His mana reserves had already depleted by almost half.

The relentless combat, the preceding clash, and the forced breakthroughs had drained him more than anticipated. At this level, recovery wasn't instantaneous.

Higher cultivation stages meant even minor losses demanded considerable time to mend.

Had he been at full strength, he knew this fight would have concluded already.

Grommash slowly rose, wiping the blood from his chest. His grin returned, though it now held a trace of caution.

"You're strong," he admitted.

Ragnok also steadied himself, observing Ethan with narrowed eyes.

"But not strong enough," he added coldly.

Ethan remained silent, his grip tightening on his sword.

The battle recommenced.

...........

Far from the ongoing conflict, within the Orc army's command encampment, a different scene was unfolding.

A towering figure stood at the center of a ritualistic circle. His long white hair cascaded down his back as he raised a staff adorned with ancient inscriptions. The surrounding air pulsed with unusual energy, with several crystals hovering before him.

The Orc shaman's eyes glowed faintly as he focused intently on the crystal before him.

He extended his staff, and the energy within the crystal ignited.

"Connection established," he whispered.

The image within the crystal flickered, and then a voice emerged.

The shaman bowed his head slightly.

"Lord Siegeford, the human you inquired about is present."

A brief silence followed.

Then, a chilling voice responded.

[Very good... Keep that bastard occupied.]

The tone dripped with murderous intent.

[I am en route.]

A faint distortion rippled through the crystal, and the voice grew colder still.

[I will tear that bastard limb from limb.]

The connection severed instantly.

The shaman slowly lowered his staff, a subtle smile gracing his lips.