LIGHT NOVEL Chapter 125: Chapter 125
Syra breathed heavily as she ducked beneath a heavy side swipe, her sword parried it to the side just in time. A lock of blonde hair flicked off into the wind as the sharp slice of Gorehowl missed her by a fingers width.
At the same time, Hellscream reached towards her with his offhand, and moved to grasp her neck.
Leaning forward into her duck, she suddenly performed a Leap of Faith, and rammed her Light empowered skull into the jaw of the Orc, sending him flying backward.
Slamming his axe into the earth, Hellscream anchored himself down, and let the blade drag him across the dirt like a plow.
"YEEEEAAAOWWW-OLOLOL-LOOOH!!!" Hellscream roared in excitement, then charged at her.
Syra had anticipated such a maneuver, and protected her ears with the Light.
Many other Elves were not so fortunate, and fell over, or clutched their heads in pained grimaces as the sonic warcry carried across the barren, rocky landscape that was the Isle of Quel'Danas.
Syra grinned, and her eyes saw the world in a swirl of colors as one eye glowed gold, and the other purple.
She saw every possible oncoming attack, and the way to counter them. Yet Hellscream was such a natural, such a savant, that what would ordinarily be about a handful of patterns had transformed into dozens.
The way he shifted his stance, his posture, and shifted his weapon, coupled with his amazing speed meant that even with this predictive ability, it was only truly useful at the very second when he struck.
5 seconds ticked by from the time he roared to the time he charged at her. In that time she saw countless permutations from where he might strike. As each second ticked down, the predictive nature of her Holy Void state became more and more precise.
5: Head. Neck. Shoulder. Neck. Chest.
4: Sword. Hand. Leg. Sword.
3: Left lower side. Right eye. Center throat line.
2: Stab to neck into feint at heart. Cleave at chest to reach behind head for decapitation.
1: Dirt cloud into-
Syra's eyes widened over that five second window as the likelihood of each possible attack narrowed down to a surprise dirt cloud that blocked her vision!
A whirlwind of dust and debris came towards her as Hellscream dragged his axe in the dirt.
At the same time, 3 perfectly identical Grom Hellscream's emerged from the same spot, and attacked her in a triangle pattern.
It was the Orc blademaster special ability: Mirror Image!
Even with Mana Sight, it was impossible to tell any one of the three apart from one another!
Syra remained calm, and plunged her sword into the earth, then cast Concentration.
A thick web of golden-purple light burst out of the ground, and exploded in a 360 degree circle all around her. Pulsing with power, the Holy energy was tinged purple with Void, and slowly stripped away the very molecules that bound any organism that was unfortunate enough to be caught in its radius.
The three bodies however, didn't pay any mind to this, as the red aura of rage surrounding their bodies briefly protected them from the life threatening pulse.
Swinging their axes in tandem, the three Orc warriors began to look less solid by the moment, as if they were fading away.
Syra instinctively knew Hellscream would be attacking from the sky, and would arrive at her location sometime within the next 5 seconds. However, she still had to deal with these Mirror Images. Her prior experience fighting Orc blademasters taught her that although they were not nearly as strong as the original, they still carried with them a punch!
Ducking underneath one axe, Syra empowered her foot, and spin kicked that clone in the chest. An eruption of purple energy spread from the heel of her shoe, and exploded outward, destroying the image.
Using her sword that was impaled in the earth like a pole, she placed her body in between it and another axe strike, completely blocking it. Keeping up her centrifugal force from the spin kick, she axe kicked the arm of the next image, and jumped off its dissipating form to knee the next one in the jaw.
At the end of her motion, Syra used her tether to her buster sword, and called it to her thanks to binding magic.
Right as the handle of the sword entered her grasp, she swung it upward to meet the full force of a somersault axe attack.
Syra withheld a grimace as the power behind the axe was greater than anything she had ever blocked before. Even with the Light empowering her body, her wrists ached, and the alignment of her sword trembled from the impact.
Hellscream grinned wide as a monstrous red energy swelled around him, and pushed forth with overwhelming momentum.
The Orc's bloodlust was palpable, almost as if it were alive. Syra could feel a conceptual rage emerging from the warrior before her. It was a need to dominate, a need to conquer!
She had watched so many of Varrus's plays, that she recognized this for what it was. Hellscream's final gambit at victory.
She recognized that she had no choice but to respond in kind.
Over the months, she had been developing her Holy Void state, and went from lasting just a single minute to an hour. But lasting longer wasn't good enough. It wasn't until she taught Tess, and studied her unique body that Syra realized there was more she could do with this combination.
Varrus had warned her about the dangers, but she had come this far, hadn't she?
Besides, the more he advanced in that crystal magic, the further and further she would be left behind.
Then who would protect him when he inevitably did something stupid?
Syra smiled to herself as she thought about her lovable, stupid husband. So intelligent and confident when it came to certain things, but absolutely clueless with other matters.
Ah. He was just so cute!
Syra almost let herself get lost in her memories of him. However, it was also thanks to this obsession that Syra was able to complete the next transformation in her Holy Void state.
Whereas her first form changed her aura, the combination of her mana, and her eyes, the second form altered even more of the body.
Releasing a cold breath, a purple fog crept out of her mouth, and began to taint the air.
The mist then began to coat her face, and took on the appearance of a dark umbra mask. At the same time, the constant light that coated her body retreated into the pores of her skin. Her ordinarily tan dermis began to glow golden.
Dust particles shimmered in the air, reflecting gold and purple light into the surroundings.
A vast amount of contradictory concepts were expelled from her body as she radiated the energy of the Holy Void in every direction.
Love. Loyalty. Sacrifice.
Hatred. Betrayal. Selfishness.
These concepts and more clashed within Syra's body, and almost threatened to overwhelm her.
Both her psyche and physical body were on the verge of collapse as she forcefully merged these two distinctly separate powers together.
Syra felt like she was on fire, poisoned, and being embraced by a healing warmth all at the same time.
In short, she was in a constant state of agony.
If someone were to look at Syra right now, they wouldn't know if they were looking at a demon or an angel.
To Syra, none of that mattered. All that ran through her mind was to eliminate her and her husband's enemies.
This sole thought, this one, burning desire to show love, loyalty and sacrifice combined with her senses of hatred, betrayal, and selfishness.
Syra loved Varrus more than anything in the universe, this love served as the core for her being. With him in her life, it almost washed away the years of abuse, and made it easy to forget the evils of her mother. She was loyal to him, and willing to sacrifice her health for him.
At the same time, her hatred for Hellscream, and others who stood in her family's way fueled her determination. The lackluster love from her mother when she grew up fueled her sense of betrayal. She felt no loyalty to Quel'Thalas or Silvermoon, this fed into her disconnect, further empowering the amount of Void entering her system. Lastly, was her selfishness. She knew she was doing this all for Varrus, that her love was ironclad. But truly, at the end of the day, she was doing this for herself! To prove to herself that she wasn't worthless! That she was more than her mother's training!
Upon this realization, the transformation reached a perfect melded state, and the incredible pain receded to the background.
"Yula-ha-lay-lay!" Hellscream roared as he came in for an attack.
The Orc chieftan's eyes, and veins pulsed with a piercing red light. As he made his charge, it was as if the outline of a black-red avatar was behind him, empowering him further. His rage was so poignant, that it had manifested itself into an image behind him!
The sky turned red, and the earth rumbled as his roar sent the clouds fleeing.
Any who gazed upon Hellscream at that moment would clutch their hearts, or cower in fear. Yet none could look away. His every step seemed like it carried with it the weight of inevitability.
Each creature knew they would die one day. But that concept was always 'some other time.'
However. However! Each and every living being, whether they be an insect or an immortal that viewed this scene felt themselves shudder as 'some other day' became today.
Hellscream's charge carried with it a conceptual weight of ending.
The anger was so palpable, it could be tasted on the air. Men kneeled, they vomited, and more. Yet they could not look away! Each and every one of these observers knew that they were witnessing a legend in action.
This was the Orc who had drank from the Demons blood and emerged as a monster.
This was the Orc who took part in sacrificing tens of thousands of Draenei to open the Dark Portal and invade Azeroth.
He was the Orc who sacked Stormwind, and survived every war against the Humans, Dwarves and Elves.
He was the Orc who slayed the father of druidism, the demigod Cenarius!
He was the Orc who slayed the Demon that empowered him in the first place, the demigod Mannoroth!
He was rage incarnate.
He was:
Grom Hellscream!
In response to this unprecedented attack, Syra prepared to meet force with force!
Exhaling once more, an ever changing film of golden-purple shrouded her form, and created a shimmering cloak of purple-gold. She then held out her offhand, and coalesced her energy into a shape.
Lightning bearing the features of the Holy Void crackled in her offhand, and formed a spear.
All the light in the sky seemed to be drawn towards this object conjured in the palm of her hand, and the world went dim. For a split second, it was almost as if she were the only object in the universe, all else was fake, illusory, or some twisted hallucination.
"Syra Greathollow, DIE!!!"
"IT'S VANDERCROSS!!!"
The wave of red clashed with purple-gold, and chaos ensued.
Super speed sonic booms shook the sky as the pair of combatants moved faster than anyone else.
Elites caught in the crossfire didn't even know how they died as crescents of rogue energy scattered in every direction.
Bolts of Holy Void lightning swept the battlefield, disintegrating all it passed through.
The aura of rage was so great, people turned on one another as they were lost to a berserkers rage.
Power so vast, it was suffocating knocked people unconscious.
No one was safe as these two titans clashed.
At this point, neither Syra or Grom were thinking much as they fought. Each swipe of the sword, or movement of the axe was instinctual. Hours upon hours of training, and combat had led up to this ultimate confrontation.
Syra absorbed information so rapidly thanks to her mask, even with her super speed, she was having trouble processing it. So she didn't, and let herself move on autopilot. The shift in Hellscream's aura was her indicator as to his next move, and she would adjust accordingly.
Hellscream seemed to be doing something similar, and despite each of them powering up, they were still in a deadlock!
However, Syra had one advantage, and that was Mana Stones.
While her body was constantly altering itself to manage this great energy, she was, at the end of the day, an Elf! So long as she could balance the Holy Void, and had a power source, she could outlast him!
Seconds ticked by, and eventually minutes passed. Neither of them could score a finishing, or crippling blow, yet she saw the warrior's stamina begin to flag!
Moving in close, Syra was just that much faster, and scored a direct hit with her lightning spear. Shoving it forward, she directly pierced Hellscream's chest.
The Orc tried to grab her with his offhand, and sacrifice himself to take her out at the same time. However, she had seen countless examples of this in her fights, and danced out of his grasp at the last second.
His fingertips barely scraped against her neck, but we're suddenly dozens of feet away as she pulled back.
A burning hot mark colored her neck from where he touched, but otherwise, she was fine.
As for Hellscream, he was still standing! Yet his breaths were labored, and he eyed Syra like a dying animal that still had some fight in it.
Syra breathed deeply, this was it!
"You. Are. A worthy opponent. Syra. Vandercross!" Grom bit out between pain filled gasps.
"I had something worth fighting for." Syra glanced over her shoulder towards the crater of the Sunwell, and smiled.
"So you noticed the crack in my resolve." Grom pitilessly grinned as he looked at the Horde, and Thrall in particular.
"I won the Mak'gora. That means you have to do anything I say. As the victor, I demand you join my House, and become my Champion." Syra planted her sword in the ground with a big grin.
She had just won the toughest fight of her life, and was feeling extremely proud of herself.
But that wasn't enough.
Syra wanted to surprise Varrus. To show him the big boogeyman he was so scared of had been defeated by her. That he had submitted to her.
How much love and praise would he shower upon her if she returned with Grom Hellscream as a subordinate?
"Hah, it doesn't work like that girly. For one, you're not an Orc." Grom grinned cheekily, however, he felt extreme pain as the Void began to eat away at his organs, and he fell forward to his knees. "Also, I am dying a warrior's death. I have one more attack in me. I do not intend to serve another." Grom said with resolve.
Syra closed her eyes and sighed.
She then silently raised her sword, and saluted him.
"Ruaaargh!" Grom punched himself in the chest and roared.
Staggering to his feet, Hellscream's eyes once more took on a red hue.
"Today is the day you will have defeated the greatest Orc warrior to have ever lived. Remember the name: Grom Hellscream!"
Right before the leader of the Warsong clan was about to charge, a deep voice boomed across all of Quel'Danas, and the sound of a Dragon's flapping wings was heard by all, like the flutter of a butterfly altering history.
"TIME LOOP!"
Time magic spread across the entire island at that moment.
Every single Alliance or Horde member that was on the verge of death had their wounds healed.
A second wind had emerged for the Champions of Azeroth as the Bronze Dragonflight made their presence known!
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AN: Read up to chapter 153 at: patreon.com/KarpQQ