The Golem Mage Chapter 1131: The High Orc Fears.

"What insolence, with just the two of you? Soldiers, send them to their deaths," the High Orc with the greatsword declared, drawing the massive weapon from his back and pointing it toward Butcher and Oni.

"Arghhh!"

At his command, multiple Orcs from the greatsword-wielding general’s unit and the third High Orc general’s unit charged forward.

"Stay back, these ones are mine," Butcher stated as he started walking ahead. After a few steps, he lowered the axe that had been resting on his shoulder.

With each step he took, lightning Qi began to gather and course through his body, causing the area within thirty meters of him to transform into a miniature lightning domain.

Butcher looked at the towering green-skinned Orcs riding their war wolves toward him, their faces fearless and savage, and he smiled.

Then he raised his axe high to his left side with only his right hand. To wield such a massive two-handed axe so casually was already proof of Butcher’s monstrous strength.

However, he wasn’t trying to show off his physical might. In an almost effortless motion, he swung the axe outward in a backhand motion, and that was when everything changed.

[> High Tier Skill + Spell - Tempest Execution <]

By the time he completed the motion, the thunder axe he had been holding so casually was already completely wrapped in raging lightning Qi, as he swung it outward.

Bang! Boom!

A massive thunderstorm burst forward toward the charging Orcs. The moment they saw that terrifying surge of lightning rushing at them, a few of them tried to turn around and flee.

Unfortunately for them, they were far too slow.

The instant the storm touched the first Orc, electrocuting both him and his war wolf until they were charred black, the attack continued as countless strands of chain lightning swept through the remaining hundred Orcs.

It was almost as if each life it claimed made the lightning even stronger. In less than a minute, Butcher already had nearly fifty thunderbolts arcing wildly across the battlefield, striking down everything in their path, before dragging his axe back and drawing every thunderbolt into his axe to make it sparkle with more destructive powers.

The three High Orc Generals stared at the charred remains of their subordinates with pain and fury burning in their eyes.

"Ahhhh!!!" The third general roared as he kicked the sides of his wolf and charged forward in a rage.

"Come back! You can’t just dash in senselessly!" the female High Orc General shouted, trying to stop him, but he didn’t care in the slightest. For every Orc General, the number of Orc soldiers under their command determined how much prestige they held.

And in that last clash, when over a hundred Orcs had charged forward, he had sent many of his own soldiers to join the assault. He had also been the one with the fewest troops to begin with.

Yet with just a single move, all the forces he had painstakingly built up had been wiped out like a pack of worthless thugs. He simply couldn’t let that go.

To Orcs, battle was everything they craved, and for High Orcs, that thirst for battle surpassed almost every other instinct. That was why this particular general didn’t mind charging at someone he already knew might be stronger than him.

Seeing him rush forward like that, the other Orc captain who had also lost many of his soldiers—the one wielding the greatsword—kicked the side of his wolf and followed after him.

He was prepared to do whatever it took to support his fellow general so he wouldn’t die, because while the loss of Orc soldiers might not mean much to the Orc lord, the death of a general was a different matter entirely.

And if one of them fell here, he believed both he and the female High Orc General would be the ones to bear the full brunt of the Orc king’s fury.

"Finally," Butcher muttered as he watched them charging toward him.

He then let his axe fall from his hand, then caught it by the very end of the handle just before it touched the ground. The next second, he began spinning it at incredible speed, causing a wheel of lightning to appear around the rotating weapon as he spread his legs and waited for them to come.

[> High Tier Spell - Shadow Teleportation <]

But just as he was waiting, he heard Oni cast a spell.

"That’s my prey, don’t you dare." Butcher swiftly turned back, intending to stop Oni from snatching his target, but he was already too late.

All he saw was black smoke fading into the air, as if it were returning to nothingness when he turned back. Even so, he already knew what that meant; there was no stopping Oni now.

The Third General, who had been riding forward, was caught off guard by the sudden disappearance of the figure wearing the strange demonic mask.

However, his momentary shock vanished once he perceived his wolf losing its footing, consequently flinging him from its back to the cold earth. Oni had ingeniously utilized the wolf's shadow, transforming it into a fleeting teleportation nexus. The instant he materialized, his grip seized one of the beast's limbs with lightning speed.

It was his sole strategy, as he surmised, to prevent the High Orc adversary from creating any spatial advantage. Fortunately for Oni, his tactic proved effective.

This decisive maneuver dislodged the Third General from his mount. Yet, characteristic of their battle-hardened nature, the general gave no heed to his unseen assailant, opting instead for an immediate, fierce retaliation.

With a thrust, a spear materialized in his grasp from his spatial ring, its shaft instantly wreathed in ferocious flames.

Yet, as the fiery weapon lunged forward, Oni executed a slight, nimble bend. The spear hissed past his ear, while his right hand drove deep into the Orc's torso.

[> High Tier Spell - Umbra Hands <]

And just like that, defying all rational explanation, Oni's hand plunged through the Red Orc's chest as if it were mere cloth. The general turned, his visage contorted with profound astonishment.

A Red Orc – one of the towering variants who dwart their green-skinned kin, known colloquially as High Orcs, and a race celebrated for their formidable defensive capabilities – had just had their chest impaled by a disembodied hand.

Disbelief warred with the undeniable reality; he could already sense his lifeblood ebbing away as Oni’s hand was silently, deliberately withdrawn from his chest, tearing his very heart out.

Throughout this entire deadly encounter, the demonic visage on Oni’s mask remained utterly impassive, conveying no hint of the momentous feat he had just accomplished. The Greatsword General, who had been advancing with fierce momentum, yanked his reins sharply, bringing his wolf to a sudden, jarring halt.

As his gaze fixed upon Oni, a profound and chilling sense of dread began to permeate his being.

One decisive move.

That was all it had required to end the life of his comrade. In that singular instant, the primal fear of mortality gripped him completely.

His instinct screamed for flight, an urge to turn and escape. But as his eyes darted upwards, he beheld Butcher suspended in the air, descending rapidly, his massive axe held aloft in both hands, poised for a devastating strike.

"Shit!" he swore under his breath. Yet, at that very second, an irresistible, powerful suction force began pulling him relentlessly backward.

"Why are you tensing your muscles? Just let go!"

The next sound to register was the voice of the female High Orc General. This time, he offered no resistance, allowing the wind's potent pull to draw him away until he was safely alongside her.

While being whisked to safety, he witnessed Butcher's axe descend like a thunderbolt, impacting his mount – the very same steed he had ridden only moments before – obliterating it. The immense force of the weapon had been more than sufficient to annihilate the wolf mount instantly.

Even beyond the initial impact, the contained lightning energy within the axe erupted outwards in a blinding, destructive wave. The sheer spectacle made one thing brutally clear: had he remained in that spot, survival would have been an impossibility.

"This mission is a failure. They are beyond our current capabilities," declared the female High Orc General, initiating a swift turn of her mount for a strategic retreat, with the greatsword-wielding general following closely behind.

She had already signaled her Orc forces to withdraw the moment she observed the effortless devastation Butcher had wrought upon the other Orc soldiers who had charged earlier.

Despite the established order to retreat, she lingered momentarily, hoping to rescue her fellow generals. However, the third general had proven far too impulsive, and she harbored a strong conviction that any attempt to recover his remains would draw the attention of that shadowy figure – Oni.

Having witnessed every preceding event, she harbored no desire whatsoever to provoke his ire. It was precisely this reason that she had limited her intervention to retrieving only the other High Orc General.