Eldritch Creature’s Guide - Chapter 274 Paint It, Green (1)

Due to the unhindered path to the heart of the island, it didn’t take long for the party of the Holy Templar Knights and Priests of the Hall of Kadath to arrive in front of the gates of the Orkish fortress that belonged to the Green Beast Pirates.

As expected, it was a formidable and imposing structure, reflecting the brutal and savage nature of its inhabitants. Built with a combination of raw strength and a crude sense of architecture, an Orkish fortress stands as a symbol of their dominance and power.

It loomed like a monstrous beast with jagged walls that jut out at harsh angles. Constructed from rough-hewn stone, it appears as if boulders and slabs were haphazardly piled upon one another, forming a massive, irregular structure.

The fortress stands surrounded by a deep, murky moat filled with toxic sludge, emitting a putrid odor that repels all but the most powerful of intruders.

Atop the walls, crude battlements are manned by hulking Orcish warriors, their muscular frames silhouetted against the sky. They stand vigilant, wielding massive axes, wicked spears, and rusted blades, their eyes glinting with a predatory ferocity.

The main gate, an imposing structure of iron and wood, is adorned with crude spikes and menacing symbols carved by the Ork shamans and their Warlocks. Just from those symbols alone, one could sense the corruptive powers of the Greenskins.

It was protected by a fearsome portcullis that is rumored to have crushed entire armies. As the gate creaks open, a sinister green aura emanates from within, revealing a dark and foreboding world.

Even from their current position, they could see the towering figure of the Boss coming from the opened gates. Even Samiel and his group had to admit that the Boss of the Green Beast Pirates, Bagtork was far more powerful…

Different from Dharzug, who still didn’t evolve into the being of Boss.

The Ork Boss was a massive creature, his hulking frame radiating an aura of raw power. Muscles bulge beneath leathery green skin, crisscrossed with scars earned through countless battles.

His broad shoulders are adorned with crude armor, patchwork plates of scavenged metal and trophies salvaged from fallen enemies, creating a makeshift but menacing ensemble.

A pair of beady, bloodshot eyes, gleaming with fierce intelligence, peer out from beneath a heavy brow. His broad, tusk-like teeth jut out in a permanent snarl, emphasizing the savage and menacing expression that dominates his face.

A heavy, choppa weapon, dwarfing any normal-sized blade, is clutched tightly in one massive, calloused hand. The jagged, serrated edge is caked with dried blood and bears crude engravings, telling the tale of countless foes who fell before it.

“Yar have come her! Now wer fight! WAAAGH!”

The creature roared as it waved its choppa high above his head, as the rest of the Greenskins followed their suits, cheered for the upcoming WAAAGH on the worthy enemy and powerful enemy.

Such was the existence called Ork.

When the booming voice of the Ork Boss issued commands, there was nobody who dared to refute and if there were some, then the Nobz, grizzled warriors who have proven themselves in battle, the personal retinue of Boss would make sure that everyone did what was expected.

“Formation 3! Prepare for the attack!”

Juulius shouted immediately as the Templar Knights shifted, creating more denser formation around the Priests that were in the middle, completely protecting their long-ranged fighters.

Meanwhile, Samiel was ordering the Priests to use all kinds of blessings and buffs on the Holy Knights, who would soon be fighting the towering figures of the Orkish hulks, each one being warmachine on itself.

Soon enough, the first waves of the Orks already started rushing towards the Templar Knights who created a shield wall and cast various types of magic to help them in their fight, calling upon the blessings of their Gods and great unknown.

They stood there, as an immovable mountain, not blinking, facing the mad charge of the green tide that was approaching them second by second. Yet nobody felt fear, because fear was the mind killer; fear was the little-death that brought total obliteration.

So they don’t know fear and they stood face to face their enemy, with their blades drawn and their magic ready.

“Fire!”

Upon the order of their Holy Son, the Priests released the barrage of their spells, specifically prepared for the Greenskins as hundreds of Orks were killed faster than one could blink, but as usual, this only lowered their numbers.

The morale of Orks was unshaken; the WAAAGH stood strong as long as their Boss was breathing and fighting. Countless spells were released on the battlefield, either from Samiel’s Priests or from the Orkish Shamanans and Warlocks using their foul magic.

This was countered by the Priests and this soon developed into the battle of spellcasters.

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

“WAAAGH!”

The Orks were cleaved in half, their limbs or heads were severed by the Holy Templars as they attacked their fortified lines, but they stood strong and the Orks just continued in their mad assault, not caring about their losses.

They were Orks and they fought for the victory.

Nothing less was acceptable.

Juulius just observed this as he grits his teeth because while he was aware of their presently good situation, as they managed to stand strong… from the long-term position, they were at a severe disadvantage.

“Commander Tirius, the charge is yours.”

Juulius brandished his sword and put away his shield as he looked at one of the Holy Templar Knights that was standing next to him.

He decided to take the head of the beast by himself and cut the head from the body.

The very second the Boss was killed, the Orks wold just…

Disperse…

This was their greatest weakness; the very moment their Boss was killed, their entire command structure collapsed like a house of cards.

It was even worse because sometimes they would start fighting with each other, even during the ongoing battle.

Fundamentally speaking, it was the existence of the Boss that was holding them all together in one group.

“I will not disappoint you, my Lord; not single greenskins will make it here alive.”

Commander Tirius said as Juulius called the greater powers and disappeared from his current spot, leaving only a trail of lighting behind him and tens of decapitated Orks that stood in his path.

He was tearing his way to the Boss, killing tens of Orks every second without a problem.

Seeing this, Samiel conjured his ice trident as he looked at Yvraine and his Higher Undead and ordered them to take his place, rushing after Juulius.

He wanted to engage those Orkish Warlocks and Shamans during the time Juulius would be dealing with the Boss, in case the Warlocks decided to interrupt the duel between Juulius and Boss.

They were… in the end… pretty treacherous kind… those Warlocks…