The Legend of Fatality

The smell of fire invaded Ennasu-Saif's dream. The Duke of Aquitaine tried not to let his thoughts awaken from the comforting darkness, but his senses did not want to succumb to the longing forgotten by the world. Shouting and roaring, metal-to-metal collisions, disgusting sounds of steel piercing bone hair, screams of dying people, these are the sounds that the Duke's ears have always resisted, trying not to be submerged.

Slowly, Ennasu-Saif opened his eyes. The hot sun shone on his face like a torch. He yelled in pain, and a sharp pain in his body made him shrink.

"The Duke is alive!"

This is the voice of Count Durant-Du Lancaster, clearly echoed in the rumble of battle. Ennasu-Saif is not surprised that his strong servant is here to fight to defend his weakened lord. This is not surprising. Durant ’s loyalty is the theme of the bard ’s creation of songs and folk songs. It is a fierce determination to sacrifice himself in the name of chivalry. Blurred memories flashed in the Duke's mind. Durant dropped the picture of the Duke's paralyzed body from the wreck. Durant rushed to his side and rescued him from the poison of the Al-Eba people. Does Count Durant want to protect him from any danger now? Is there anything more terrible than the threat of flowing in his blood vessels now?

"He won't live long! We are all the same!"

The desperate cry was made by the Earl of Westbrook de Toulouse. Enasu-Saif was surprised that he even heard that the calm and savvy Earl of Westbrook was dominated by such a gloomy humor. Even in the fierce battle with foreigners, the Earl of Westbrook is always a person who can turn disaster into profit. When fate seems to be against him, he has a keen sense of how to play with fate. Earl Westbrook is someone who can always find a way out of doom.

Ennasu-Saif was determined to find out what made the earl, who was always opportunistic, sound of despair. Although the sun caused him pain, he forced himself to open his eyes. At first, everything was a blurry white, but gradually, as the Duke was forced to endure the stinging pain, those strange shapes began to disappear on their own.

He lay on a wooden coffin, wrapped in a thick blanket. Around him, he could see rugged gray rock hills dotted with clusters of brown thorns and prickly cactuses. Ennasu-Saif had seen such terrain before, and he liberated Margarita from the army of Jaffar, the king of magic in the magical kingdom of Erba, during a southward expedition. No matter where he is now, it is somewhere in the dry and desolate hinterland of Istana.

A small piece of flat ground between the rocky hills was littered with broken tent fragments, the splendid coat of arms of the nobles of Aquitaine was torn into pieces, and blood lay lying in the dust of Istana. The Duke could see the debris of his own tent drooping from several pillars, and several bodies scattered around the tent.

He deeply regrets these people, whether they are farmers or nobles. Their way of dying is obvious. When Durant and Westbrook moved out his paralyzed body and desperately wanted to get their owner to a safe place, they had already sacrificed while defending the tent.

The savage bark and animal grunt even drowned the rumbling of the sword. Ennasu-Saif is familiar with these inhuman voices. Anyone who has fought in the mountains of Betford will surely brand that voice into his memory. There is no reason to guess who attacked his followers, and no reason to guess the reason. Only an orc can have such a deep, roaring sound. The orc does not need a reason to attack, just like a fish does not need a reason to swim.

The Duke focused his attention on the cruel attackers. There are at least twenty monsters, the smallest of which is one head taller than himself, and each one is as strong as the Alençon wild boar. The orcs are similar in shape to human beings, wearing their armor skins covered with minced meat armor picked up from the people they killed in battle, or rough-made from Goblin deep underground.

Each orc wields a weapon with a huge axe-like blade, neither a meat cleaver nor a hunting knife, but possesses all the ugly parts of these two knives. Many orcs have new wounds. Dirty wounds have a thick blue-black slurry, and they smell foul instead of blood.

Only a few people still stood in front of the orcs. Except for Durant and Westbrook, the Duke can only see six soldiers, a few unarmored followers and two knights in worn armor. As he watched, a heavy orc fiercely slammed a knight's breastplate with his sharp blade. This blow wounded the steel on the armor and he could even hear the knight's rib fracture sound. The injured knight hadn't had time to shake away the fatal blow, and the orc grabbed his helmet with the other hand. The orc twisted the helmet brutally, breaking the neck of the man in the armor.

When Ennasu-Saif saw the head of the orc raise his head and heard the roaring laughter of the beast echoing on the battlefield, a primordial anger burned in his body. It is insulting enough for a knight of Burtania to die in this way. He defeated a powerful enemy in the entire expeditionary war, but was killed by such an inhuman pest here. This is simply one. A tragedy. The murderer who killed this man mocked his death even more intolerably.

Before the Duke realized what he was doing, he threw the thick blanket back. Despite being sick for several months and unable to move, he still felt that his limbs were full of strength, which was an unprecedented original strength. Instead of charging the orcs' warlord, he swooped like a panther, jumping over a dozen yards between them.

The orc opened his round red eyes in surprise, his lantern-like chin widened, staring at the sick prince assaulting him. The orc's surprise soon became unbelievable, as Ennasu-Saif's fist hit his face, shattering his iron-clad fangs, and tearing his tough lips. The orc leader shouted and retracted his arm, intending to cut this crazy human in half with his oversized sword.

An iron block for slaughter of more than twenty pounds was pushed towards Ennasu-Saif by the arm of the orc like a cow. This fatal blow was enough to split a heavily armed horse in half, not to mention a person protected by a thin wool coat.

This was the second time the orc warlord blinked in surprise, but this time his eyes were filled with fear. The huge sword failed to split his enemy in half. It didn't even touch that person. This failure was because the Duke grabbed the orc's fist with his hand and blocked the sword from sweeping. The Duke began to pry his fingers off the orc warlord's own hilt, and the orc snorted in horror, a feat that the orc's original brain could not understand!

The orc roared and punched the Duke with fists. The man let go of the orc warlord's arm and hid under the rough knotty flesh. The orc warlord waved his other arm, violently hitting a deep groove on the knuckle of the other hand. Suddenly, the orc warlord lost his balance and stumbled backwards.

The Duke pounced on the monster that was cramping. Like the beast in the dark jungle, he swooped towards the orc, pressed his knee against the orc's stomach, and forced him to fall. He gasped in pain, like the wind blowing from him. The Orc Warlord hadn't had time to respond, and Ennasu-Saif grabbed the orc's jaw with his claw-shaped fingers.

Duke Aquitaine yanked the orc's chin off his face.

Dirty blood donation spewed from the monster's incomplete face, and his red eyes were full of fear. The orc warlord threw away his oversized sword, and tossed aside his brutal performance, and pure fear engulfed his brain. The orc turned and fled, and his only thought was to escape this crazy human being, who fought himself with monster-like power.

But the orc only ran a few steps, the Duke jumped on his back, his legs straddling his abdomen. The orc warlord grabbed the man with his claws and tried to kill him, but the duke ignored the orc slave. Ennasu-Saff grabbed the orc's heavy skulls coldly. The Duke twisted violently, breaking the monster's neck.

The orc warlord walked a few more steps, and then his huge body hit the stone ground heavily, twitching, and death slowly came to him. The Duke freed himself from the body ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ He stared blankly at the battlefield. Both humans and orcs have stopped fighting, so they can watch the brutal battle between the orc warlords and human nobles. Now, both humans and orcs are watching him with fear and awe.

The orcs screamed, no longer fantasizing. When they escaped from this terrible man who killed their leader with bare hands, they chose to run away. The monsters abandoned their weapons and looting desires in fear of escape, kicking each other on the run, and no one wants to be left behind, facing the same fate as their orc warlord.

The duke's vassals were reluctant to approach their lord. Their faces were full of fear, and even Count Durant was afraid of speculation about the situation. Ennasu-Saif can guess what they think. They want to know if any terrible soul has taken away the body of their master, or this entity occupied by evil souls will attack them as cruelly as the orcs.

Their fear is right.

Ennasu-Saif looked down at his hands, covered with the greasy blood of the orc. He felt a terrible desire burning in his heart, and a disgusting hunger roared in his brain. Shaking, he began to cover his face with his hands. He wanted to fight the strong desire, the terrible impulse to get him to lick the dirt off his fingers.

The will of the Duke finally won. He uttered a painful scream and fell to the ground. The unsatisfied and terrifying hunger retreated to the unconscious black corner.

The last word he heard was the voice of Count Durant, who was urging his servants to help their lord who was hit hard.

Once again, Duke Aquitaine, plunged into darkness, prayed that his faithful servants would let him die.

This nightmare is over.