Frostbound

Marcus

The fear fell away and he fought to keep it that way. He was no coward and he was better than that. He'd fought tides of insects and killed hundreds of Orcs, he wasn't about to be paralyzed in fear just because of one, extremely strong Orc.

An Orc that could most likely kill him in one or two blows. An Orc that looked like he could...

No! He admonished himself and fought to keep the fear at bay.

His feet were freed and he hesitantly took his first step forward. Toward the danger. Toward the Orc. That step shook off some of the paralyzing fear and the next diminished it further.

But while he had taken a paltry few steps, Chris had charged forward like it was just another enemy to face. Like this War Leader was no different than the Orcs that attacked at the start.

The lack of fear, no, more than lack, devoid of the idea, startled Marcus. Every living thing had a fear response and while Marcus' was screaming at him to get as far away from the threat as possible, it was like Christopher's was broken.

Shattered to pieces like the mountains of bodies at his feet.

Christopher didn't even know they were there! He hadn't turned and Marcus doubted he was in a state to see anything further than his eyes took in. He saw the enemy and he charged the enemy, not even realizing he had allies that had come to help him.

Marcus could tell he wasn't thinking. His eyes were wild and unfocused. His aura was the same. He'd felt Chris unleash it a few times on the boats and it was always steady as a rock. Or a glacier in his case.

It was heavy and unmoving while also bringing a nipping chill along with it. If Marcus were weaker, that chill would have bit into his skin and sought to freeze him from within, but he could fight that off.

Now, that image of a giant, unmoving glacier was replaced. In its place was a wild, fluctuating area of pure desolation. The warmth, the small piece there used to be if it could be called that, was long gone. It used to be like the cold nip of a dark winter night.

Now it was like what came after Winter had reigned unchallenged for eons. It held no warmth. No qualities that could be considered life-giving. Only destruction.

And the Cold and desolation were its instruments to achieve that.

Marcus watched as the man charged toward the Orc and cursed himself. He had a debt to repay and he was too scared to move!

His eyes flicked over to the three additions from the Great Lakes Alliance and was assured to see them in a worse state than he was in. Patrick's hands shook and the axes he held waivered only slightly while the other two mages were frozen stiff.

He looked over and expected to see Abigail in much the same state but she was nowhere to be seen. Or, she wasn't in the position Marcus last saw her, she was hundreds of feet ahead of that.

She had charged forward without stopping.

How?

She already had Water rising around her readying an attack to help her brother while Marcus was still trying to break free from the fear.

What is wrong with this family?!

Seeing his ally charge in, he marshaled his will and used it as a sledgehammer on the chains wrapping around him. He smashed it to pieces and could finally feel himself moving at a normal pace.

Finally freed, he turned and slapped Patrick next to him. It probably wasn't the most diplomatic decision to hit a fellow Faction leader, a suspected Baron at that, but those thoughts didn't matter now.

Not in the face of...

"Wha- Oh. Thank you." Patrick was startled from the hit but recovered himself well. He turned and administered the same medicine to the two mages behind him.

The man took a little more to jar free but it was only a moment of delay.

At that moment, Marcus turned back to see the first blows rain down. Chris, devoid of his hammer, used his fists to meet the Orcs club. A club the size of an ancient tree trunk, against a single man's fist.

The tree won.

Chris was driven back and his body tore a line through the piles of bodies. Marcus feared injury but that thought died as he saw the man launch himself back at the Orc like he'd just been hit with a strong Wind. Not with the weight of an entire tree swinging at insane speeds.

His skin bore a new wound that tried to ice over the bleeding but couldn't fight off the Blight to do so. Christopher's form flashed and an icy blue radiated outward. Frost built up but not in the way Marcus expected.

He'd seen the man's [Frost Armor] before, and this wasn't it. It was the natural build-up of frost on something cold. The build-up one would see on an item in a deep freezer. The skill he was using wasn't [Frost Armor], but for some reason, it felt even more powerful. Under the frost, his skin turned a shade of blue, instead of the pale white he'd seen the man as before.

A defensive skill of some kind?

Before the second strike could land, a whip made of water smashed down over the Orc's head. It barely had enough force to break the skin and any damage other than that was superficial at best. It worked to get the Orc's attention but only for a second.

Chris came flying in at a level of Strength Marcus would have said impossible if he hadn't been seeing it for himself. The Orc looking at Abigail allowed his fist to land and the meaty thud boomed over the battlefield.

Where Chris had been launched back by the club, the Orc slid back a few feet.

A disparaging level of force between the two if Marcus had ever seen one but it seemed like that fact didn't even register in Chris's mind.

"Fucking lunatic," one of the mages muttered.

That comment caused him to tear his eyes away from the non-sensical battle.

"Patrick, right?" Marcus didn't stop for him to answer, "Do you have a spare axe? Chris seems to have lost his weapon."

"You know that madman?" The older man gaffed but answered his question, "No. I usually carry a spare set but I lost them in the fight before I got the technique down."

"You mean he doesn't normally use his fists?" The woman mage muttered. From what she could see, the man was fighting comfortably without a weapon of any kind yet Marcus was saying he was down a weapon.

Marcus ignored her and plowed ahead, "The Orc seems focused on Chris so he'll tank. You and I will take the Right and Left flank." Patrick nodded, "Mages stay back and do what you can." The mages nodded more hesitantly.

"Good."

Both Abigail and Chris were in the fight and now it was time to prove his worth.

His feet were freed and he dug into the ground- bodies under him to propel himself forward. They were frozen together and didn't slip under his heavy steps which was a positive.

Patrick charged in behind him while the mages followed.

Marcus tried to get a feel for the Orc and how he would go about fighting it. His [Glaive Mastery] was high, but he doubted it was enough to face the Orc in single combat.

His [Water Scythes] were powerful, but if a [Water Whip] from Abigail barely damaged it, his [Scythes] wouldn't either. [Flash Flood] would hurt his allies more than the Orc and he was quickly running out of Skills to use. Still, he charged in anyway. Worst case he would only use his glaive and do what he could.

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As he closed in, he noticed that the Orc's skin was an odd color. It wasn't green like what he imagined it would be. It also wasn't the sickly muddled color the rest had been either. It was blue, similar in hue to what Christopher's now was. Not everywhere, as the Black stripes and spots still adorned the War Leader, but everywhere with visible skin was a faded blue color instead of green.

The change was unimportant and he instead went back to planning how not to die. [Sweeping Strike] and [Water Blade] were probably his best bet. He was too low on mana for his bigger skills and while those were on the weaker side, they both worked to enhance his strikes.

They gave him an extra bit of power with his glaive and that was his best bet right now. He wasn't sure how many times he could activate them with his dwindling mana, but those were better than nothing.

Christopher and the Orc exchanged a few more blows and it was clear that Chris was losing. He had to jump away from the axe completely as he had no way to block and the club sent him tumbling back. Any ice he managed to form got shattered in the path of the massive axe.

Yet every time, he got up and charged back in like nothing had happened.

Abigail launched more spells and drills of water at the Orc but it only resulted in a small amount of black liquid seeping out. Marcus had tried to use [Water Manipulation] on the liquid earlier and it hadn't worked.

As he neared, he prayed silently. It wasn't even directed at anyone or anything, just for himself. He didn't scream or announce his presence, just set his feet and swung his glaive as powerfully as he could.

[Sweeping Strike] activated and the arc of his swing sped up and empowered it. [Water Blade] coated the edge of the blade and made the metal that much sharper.

His strike landed effortlessly as the Orc was focused completely on Chris leaving him a free strike. He saw Patrick doing the same as him, launching both his axes at the Orc's other leg.

The blade of his glaive landed and it stopped cold. The force of the sudden stop rattled up his arms and his bones ached from the vibration. Fearing retaliation, Marcus jumped back and inspected the damage.

Which was pitiful.

A wound barely a few inches long and it didn't even penetrate the skin! How the hell were they supposed to kill the thing if they couldn't damage it?!

Two more spells started raining down on the Orc. A thick lightning bolt slammed into its chest while a weaker jet of water slammed home.

A Water and Lightning Mage. A good combination.

He could tell the Lightning did increased damage as it was already soaked from the rain and Abigail's attacks, but even then, it wasn't enough to stun it for long. The patchwork hide it wore was blown away and burned, but it was only left with a black mark for the mage's trouble.

The Orc was surrounded but it didn't alter from its incessant charge at Chris. It treated Marcus and Patrick as flies. Worse than flies, as you usually waved them away. They were just ignored.

His glaive opened up a few more wounds but nothing that could change the course of the fight. He couldn't see how Patrick was faring, but he doubted it was better.

Supercharged Lightning bolts continued to rain down timed exactly after the two Water Mages doused the Orc. Marcus could see its muscles seize but only for the briefest of moments and only in a small area where the lightning hit.

Sickening black blood continued to leak out of it and the ground sizzled around them. Frozen from the cold and hardened, it began to dissolve. The water steamed and evaporated on its body and his glaive deteriorated even faster.

The War Leader's blood was even more corrosive.

Throughout it all, Chris landed punch after punch. Marcus feared his fists would break before the Orc did, but he showed no pain or indication that his hands were breaking. His body frosted over every new wound it could, but Chris was bleeding more than the Orc was.

Marcus was about to go in for another attack when Patrick called out. Delaying his attack, Marcus looked over to see the man only holding one of his two axes.

The other poked out from the Orc's knee. Slammed home and left in the wound. The shallow wound, but Patrick had opened it up wide enough to draw blood and plant his weapon inside.

"Mary! Hit it!" Patrick yelled desperately.

Marcus wasn't sure who Mary was, but he found out soon enough. The static energy bloomed and his arm hair, what was left of it, stood on end for what was about to happen.

The build-up time was well worth it as the flash and crack of lightning blinded and deafened him for a second. It was larger than anything they'd thrown yet and as his vision returned, he saw the Orc kneeling.

The Axe used as the lightning rod was melted to slag and he saw Patrick wince, but it was a worthy trade-off.

Blood poured from the newly opened wound and everyone capitalized on it. The Water Mages dug into everywhere that bled with blades, whips, and drills of water seeking to drive the wounds wider and deeper.

With a new prime target, their efforts started to bear fruit. Marcus returned to hammering his own leg and Chris... Chris did what only he could do.

With the Orc kneeling, its height was halved and brought Chris within striking range. Like a shark smelling blood, Chris shot at the Orc and before it could gather itself, punched it in the face.

The thud rocked the Orc's head back and Marcus could tell it was visibly stunned, but it lasted no longer than the Lightning bolts from before. The only difference this time was Chris didn't need time to build up another spell.

It was only a moment before his other fist landed rocking its head back once more.

Than another.

How high is his Strength?

Another Lightning blast slammed into its other leg and Marcus noticed what they were trying to do. Two streams of Water slammed into the leg right after and Marcus swung away.

They were trying to topple it on its back.

The Orc tried to right itself and stand but it couldn't. Patrick slammed his remaining axe into the back of its injured knee every time it tried and even if he hadn't, the meteor punches slamming into its face left it dazed enough.

It was then that Marcus noticed something else. The Orc was oddly sluggish. It was injured, its knee blown open, and it was currently getting beat to shit by a man turned feral, but for some reason, it was more sluggish than it should have been.

The mana in the air stirred and Marcus leapt out of the way. If he could feel the mana from here, the mages were drawing on final attacks.

He was proven right a moment later as a torrent of water slammed into the Orc while lightning hit its other leg at the same time. The force of the Water was enough to teeter it and the lightning numbed its other leg just enough.

Before the advantage wore off, Chris was there. Slamming his bloody fists home one right after the other. It was too much for the Orc. Too much for anything Marcus had seen, and it was sent careening over.

The shockwave of the Orc falling over upon its back staggered him but it didn't for someone else. Chris leapt into the air and landed on the Orc's chest.

Eyes wild and fists bloody, he pummeled the Orc with everything he had. The frost around his body left him. His skin turned back to a pale white and blood began spurting from where he was landing his punches.

Marcus couldn't tell if it was from Chris or the Orc. All of it was mixing together into a sick amalgamation of purple and black.

Thud after thud. Punch after punch. Fist after Fist.

Chris stood upon the Orc's chest and rained down blow after blow, but the Orc wasn't dying. He and Patrick weren't standing around and tried to cut open what they could, but they were ineffective.

The mages were spent, the last of their mana used to topple the War Leader.

It was up to Chris to end it.

Without a better idea, Marcus prayed Chris was there enough to hear his words. "Christopher! Take this!"

Marcus noticed the training he'd done on the boats. The ability to empower words with one's aura and hoped he'd done it right. To force the words deep enough into his brain for him to hear.

After shouting, he threw his prized weapon. The glaive he'd carried with him for nearly a year.

Whether Chris thought it was a projectile to deflect or if he heard the words Marcus shouted, his hand shot out and caught the weapon faster than his eyes could register.

His left fist continued to rain down on the Orc while his right held Marcus's weapon like it was a toothpick. As if the man was disinterested in something so light, Ice formed and built up on the weapon.

The shaft enlarged as Ice built upon it and the blade was soon encased. His once prized weapon became the core for a spike of ice.

Chris paused his punches and grabbed the spike with both of his hands. Before the Orc could raise a hand to defend, Chris raised it over his head and with a mighty shout, brought it down square on its face.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

Once wasn't enough so he did it again. And again. The ice at the tip broke off but he kept smashing the weapon down. It continued to break and shatter until the metal of the blade at its core slammed home and drove into the brain.

The Orc's body spasmed but that didn't stop Chris. He raised the blade and did it again causing another spasm. And another spasm.

The Orc stopped spasming after the fifth blow.

Essence rushed into Marcus in higher quantities than ever before. It was so much that he felt the improvements from the levels. He didn't have to check his notifications to know he sat at level 100.

The gasps from the others said they were also receiving the deluge of essence.

Only one man didn't gasp or react.

He continued to beat the Orc's face into the ground. One smash after the other.

Marcus watched as the ice around his weapon broke and shattered. Then the blade of his weapon shatter. Then the shaft of his weapon shatter.

The wooden spray of splinters should have been enough to stop the man but he continued his onslaught long after the Orc was dead.

All five of them stood and watched as the man dragged out the last of his energy pounding the Orc into paste without saying a word. They could only watch in disbelief as the thuds turned to squelches and even those turned into something more grotesque.

Either after finally realizing the Orc was dead or noticing the rush of essence and notifications signaling the end of the fight, Chris stopped. Or he was finally out of energy.

He stood up and straightened his back. His feet were firmly planted on top of the dead Orc's chest and there was even a blanket of other dead Orcs under that.

He stood, fists dripping with his own blood and the Orcs.

Wounds numerous and bleeding all over his body, chest heaving with great effort, breath pluming out in frosty fog.

Stood and screamed his victory.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

Screamed it into the liquidized face of the Orc. Into the face of the mountains of dead around him. Into the face of everyone present. Into the air and surrounding battlefield.

He stood and proclaimed victory.