Embrace of the void

The air crackled with tension, thick with the scent of blood and impending chaos. Michael, despite his youthful appearance, felt the weight of the battle ahead press down on him. Facing a hulking D-rank orc, possibly as strong as the shaman chief himself, was no small feat for an E-rank Voidcaller Necromancer. He gripped his sword, the cold steel a small comfort against the overwhelming odds.

 "Remember the plan," Nyxar hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll handle the shaman. You deal with that… hulk." He spat the word with venomous disdain, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

Before Michael could respond, Nyxar vanished in a swirl of shadows, reappearing inside the hut with silent, deadly efficiency. A guttural roar erupted from within, followed by the clash of steel. Michael knew he didn't have time to waste.

The hulking D-rank orc, a mountain of green muscle and scarred flesh, rose to his feet, eyes burning with fury. "Who dares?!" he bellowed, voice booming like thunder. Michael cursed under his breath and activated his Shadow Veil, the darkness clinging to him as he prepared for the onslaught.

The orc guard pounced on Michael., a blur of savage muscle and wicked claws. "I'll carve you up into little bits!" the guard snarled, swinging one of his axes with terrifying speed.

Michael rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the lethal arc of the weapon. "Damn it! This is harder than it looks!" he shouted, feeling the rush of wind as the axe whooshed past him. He retaliated with a desperate flurry of sword strikes, aiming to exploit the gaps in the orc's formidable armor.

With each clash of steel, sparks flew, and Michael could feel his strength wane against the brute force of his opponent. "You call that a hit?!" the orc taunted, laughing harshly. "I've felt mosquito bites that hurt more!"

 "Shut your mouth, you oversized pig!" Michael spat back, activating Voltblade Fury, channeling crackling lightning into his blade. The resulting shockwave sent the orc staggering back, but it was only a momentary setback. The guard, fueled by rage, charged again, swinging his axes in a deadly arc. "You think you can defeat me with tricks?!" he roared, his eyes wild with fury.

Meanwhile, inside the hut, Nyxar was engaged in a whirlwind of chaos. He danced around Nyxar, the orc shaman, who was adorned with tribal tattoos and wielding a gnarled staff. The shaman's eyes glinted with malice, and he shouted incantations as dark energy crackled around him. "You dare challenge the might of Nyxar?!" the shaman bellowed, unleashing a Fireball that ignited the air with blinding heat.

 "Bring it on, you ugly bastard!" Nyxar taunted, dodging the fiery projectile with a flicker of Voidstep, his movements a blur as he countered with Shadow's Embrace, creating illusions to disorient the shaman. "I'll make a shadow puppet out of you!"

Outside, Michael was barely holding his ground. The guard lunged forward, axes whirling like a storm. "I'll turn you into mincemeat!" he shouted as he activated his skill, Storm Fury, unleashing a blast of wind and lightning that sent Michael sprawling backward. "You think you can play hero? You'll end up as a bloody stain on the ground!"

Regaining his composure, Michael unleashed Desolation Barrage, calling forth explosive elemental spears made of lightning and darkness. The projectiles tore through the air, striking the guard with pinpoint accuracy. "Take this, you brute!" Michael shouted, feeling a surge of adrenaline as the spears exploded on impact.

 "Gah!" the guard howled, blood spraying as the energy ripped through his flesh, leaving deep gouges. "You'll pay for that, little shit!" He charged again, and Michael activated Dimensional Redirect, narrowly avoiding the lethal swing of the axes.

 "Too slow!" Michael yelled, using the moment to launch another volley of attacks. But the guard was relentless, swinging wildly, his rage palpable. Just then, a group of goblins scurried into view, their beady eyes glinting with malice as they joined the fray. "Get him, you pathetic green-skinned bastards!" the guard roared, rallying the goblins to his side.

 "More of these little pests?!" Michael cursed, feeling the tide of battle shift. He slashed at the closest goblin, but more rushed in, trying to overwhelm him. "Get off me!" he shouted, kicking one away as he focused on the guard.

Inside the hut, Nyxar was locked in a deadly dance with Nyxar. The shaman unleashed Dark Spears, the shadows forming deadly projectiles that shot towards Nyxar. "You will be nothing but a memory!" Nyxar snarled, his voice thick with ancient power.

"Not today, old man!" Nyxar shouted back, evading the spears with incredible agility. He struck with his Void Dagger, aiming for the shaman's exposed flank. The dagger found its mark, and Nyxar howled in pain. "Feel that?" Nyxar taunted, his face twisted in a manic grin. "That's just a taste of the void!"

As the battle raged on, the guard finally managed to land a blow, catching Michael off guard. Pain exploded in his side as he staggered, struggling to maintain his footing. "You think you're tough?!" the guard bellowed, grinning wickedly. "You're just a kid playing with swords!"

Michael gritted his teeth, blood seeping through his fingers. "I'm not done yet!" he shouted, summoning all his remaining strength. He activated Void Flame, channeling dark energy into a swirling inferno that erupted towards the guard. "Burn, you bastard!".

The flames engulfed the guard, his screams echoing through the night as he staggered back, frantic and desperate. "No! This can't be!" he howled, but it was too late. The flames consumed him, and with a final, agonizing roar, he collapsed to the ground, lifeblood pooling around him.

But the victory was short-lived. Zargoth , enraged by the loss of his guard, unleashed a barrage of magic. "You will pay dearly for this insolence!" the shaman shouted, his staff glowing ominously as he prepared to unleash Meteor Fall. The ground trembled beneath them, and Michael knew they had to act fast.

"Now, Nyxar!" Michael shouted, his voice strained but resolute. The two of them launched their final assault together. Nyxar activated Dark Burst, a sphere of pure darkness exploding towards Zargoth. The shaman's eyes widened in shock, but it was too late. The energy engulfed him, ripping apart his defenses and consuming him in a maelstrom of destructive force.

Silence descended upon the orcish village, broken only by the ragged breathing of Michael and Nyxar. They had survived, but the victory came at a heavy cost. Michael's body ached, blood seeping from the wounds he had sustained. He staggered, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him.

 "We need to get out of here," Michael panted, glancing at the fallen bodies around them. "And we need to take the shaman's and his guardian's body. We can't leave them here.."

 "Right," Nyxar replied, panting heavily. Together they hurried to the remains of Zargoth And his guard , carefully stowing the shaman's body and The Burning Guard in Michael's storage ring. As they turned to leave, the sound of orcs echoing in the distance reminded them that danger still lurked nearby.

 "Let's go, before more show up!" Michael urged, his voice strained. With a final glance back at the bloody battlefield they had just conquered, they slipped back into the shadows, determined to escape the blood-soaked aftermath of their confrontation. The night would forever be stained with the memories of their brutal fight, echoes of curses and bloodshed lingering in the air as they vanished into the darkness.