Translator: CinderTL
Durga gasped heavily, his steel battle axe crashing down on the slippery flank of an Aboleth, only to be met with a dull thud and a violent jolt that reverberated up his arm.
He watched helplessly as the invisible force field effortlessly neutralized the strength that could split rock, leaving not a trace.
Around him, his brave clansmen struggled desperately.
But their axe strikes and hammer blows seemed utterly futile against these ancient creatures.
Ghastly white energy beams, like the scythes of death, flashed through the air, each strike claiming the life of a grey dwarf warrior.
The once solid front line was now riddled with holes, their furious roars and battle cries replaced by agonized grunts and dying moans.
The shadow of defeat and death, like a cold tide, surged over every survivor.
A profound sense of powerlessness gripped Durga's heart.
He instinctively clenched his right fist, feeling the icy touch of the Iron Gauntlet.
"If only the holy artifact's power were fully awakened, I wouldn't fear these weak demonic beasts!"
"Must I lead my people to this burial ground, to die at the hands of these... these ancient abominations?"
At this thought, his gaze involuntarily drifted to the other side of the battlefield, where a figure struggled to dodge within the interwoven web of energy beams.
What a pity... the true Rudolph has lost his memories and strength...
If the complete Rudolph were here, he would have torn these monsters to shreds with his longsword as easily as slicing through vegetables!
Durga whipped his head around, casting one last greedy glance at the shell ship, so close and yet so vital to his people's future. A flicker of resolve flashed in his eyes.
He took a deep breath, as if to suppress all his regrets and bitterness within the depths of his lungs.
Then, with all his might, he let out a roar like a wounded beast, his voice rising above the din of battle.
"Rudolph! Go! Take the survivors and get out of here!"
He swung his battle-axe, deflecting an energy beam aimed at his flank. The corrosive energy scorched his beard.
"I'll cover the rear!"
"You saved my life back then... now I'm repaying that debt."
Before he could finish, a lethal threat descended.
Several pale energy beams struck like venomous snakes. Durga roared, his axe whirling into a steel cyclone before him.
Clang! Clang!
Two crisp clangs echoed as he barely managed to split the first two beams of light. Searing energy fragments splattered against his breastplate, leaving blackened marks.
He violently twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding a third beam that grazed his shoulder pauldron.
Yet the assault was far from over.
Just as his strength failed and before he could muster new force, a fourth, thicker energy beam struck the face of his battleaxe with pinpoint accuracy.
Clang!
With a piercing metallic shriek, the steel battleaxe flew from his grasp, spinning through the air before crashing to the ground in the distance.
Durga's tiger mouth split open, and his entire right arm went numb instantly.
Before he could even feel the pain, his vision was flooded with more pale beams.
They wove into a deathly net, sealing all avenues of escape and converging on his head and chest.
To end like this... in such a humiliating way... the shell ship... the future of our clan...
A wave of bitter resentment and utter powerlessness washed over him.
Almost instinctively, Durga raised his right arm, clad in its Iron Gauntlet, across his body in a final, desperate attempt to block.
Not far away, the grey dwarf warriors, witnessing their leader's desperate situation, let out heart-wrenching roars of fury.
They desperately tried to charge forward, but were pinned down by more Aboleths, forced to watch helplessly as the dense Death Light engulfed their beloved chief.
Every pair of eyes was bloodshot, filled with rage, and...
bottomless despair.
At that critical moment, Durga felt an extremely brief, sharp hum resonate in his ear.
The sound didn't travel through the air; it felt like a vibration directly within his skull.
Then, something he found unbelievable happened.
The pale beams of Death Light, which had been mere inches away and intertwined into a deadly web, suddenly disintegrated before his eyes like smoke scattered by the wind, silently dissolving into nothingness.
He blinked instinctively, almost convinced he was hallucinating.
Focusing his gaze forward, the scene before him left him stunned.
The few Aboleths that had been gracefully swaying in the air, circling him like predators toying with their prey, now seemed to have suffered an invisible, crushing blow simultaneously.
Their massive bodies convulsed violently, twitching uncontrollably.
Their pairs of narrow, cold eyes instantly lost focus, becoming vacant and lifeless.
The nearly perfect, invisible force field surrounding them now fluctuated violently and flickered, as if on the verge of collapse.
Some of the weaker individuals even lost their suspended state and plummeted to the ground with heavy thuds.
Their viscous bodies trembled slightly, seemingly paralyzed.
What's happening?
Just as Durga was still reeling from his narrow escape from death, a thunderous shout exploded in his ears:
"Durga! Now! Attack!"
It was Roland's voice.
Durga snapped back to his senses, instantly understanding the source of this sudden reversal.
An indescribable surge of elation and battle intent swept away the lingering gloom in his heart.
"Well done, Rudolph!"
He let out a deafening roar of triumph, nimbly rolling to scoop up his battle axe from the ground. His gaze locked onto the nearest Aboleth, floating low and convulsing in agony.
This time, the situation was entirely different.
He charged forward, the heavy axe, fueled by long-suppressed rage and strength, swung in a straightforward, brutal arc toward the Aboleth's pale head.
Without the barrier of an invisible force field and the jarring clash of energy,
Squelch!
A dull, decisive tearing sound rang out.
The sharp axe blade sank into the creature's slick, resilient hide as easily as a hot knife through butter.
It cleaved through flesh and bone with unstoppable force, splattering thick, foul-smelling, dark purple blood.
The Aboleth didn't even manage a whimper. Its massive body convulsed violently once before life drained completely.
It crashed to the ground like a broken puppet, motionless.
That very creature, which had held all the grey dwarves at bay, seeming invincible moments before, now lay beneath Durga's axe, looking so...
fragile.
Durga withdrew his battle axe, feeling the solid, visceral sensation of having cleaved through flesh and bone. He gazed down at the Aboleth's corpse, its life force rapidly fading, and an indescribable exhilaration surged through him.
He raised his head, his bloodshot eyes sweeping over the other Aboleths still struggling under Roland's mysterious attacks, and let out a triumphant roar.
"Hah! Now it's our turn! Slaughter these ugly bastards!"
(End of the Chapter)
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