Orc Wars 2 : Lazarus

Chapter 125 - Back-up

The burning Ghost Lord stood as still as a statue, the bright hot flames flickered and danced on him. The heat emanating from him prevented any from approaching. When the fire finally died, the Red Warlock was still standing.

The Necromancer's gleeful laughter faded into stunned silence.

Constantine, Warlock, Level 93

Constantine smirked, his eyes shining in gleeful elation. Thanks to the Necromancer and his brilliant defence against the surprise attack, he had just levelled up.

Being the number one player meant a lot of things. However, maintaining the position of leading Hero in a hugely popular trending MMORPG was another. It meant he must keep playing actively and innovatively, constantly enhancing and making use of all his Abilities, Skills and Weapons. It also meant minimising dying and maximising Kills. He was not about to die and lose hard earned XP points for a miserable NPC trick. He was an experienced Gamer, he was the great Red Warlock!!

"Hahaha!!" Constantine laughed. "Thanks!" he mouthed at the now fearful Necromancer. He ran his hands through his thick red hair flicking his long fringe expertly and letting it fall back into his handsome face. Then he patted himself down checking for damage. Ahh, he was only a little toasted here and there but his clothes were scorched, he would have to change his outfit later. What injuries the trap had inflicted on him was healing rapidly.

Then the Red Warlock sobered, his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. The NPC dared to attack him! The angry Ghost Lord glared at his nemesis, his visage transforming into a promise of death. He raised his right arm and pointed straight at the fearful Necromancer. "You have just made it personal, orc. I am coming for you next."

Mallarg was rooted to his spot, staring at Constantine. He did not understand how the Ghost Lord had survived his devastating inferno trap.

Constantine tried not to smirk when he remembered something. The orcs were superstitious, yes? Drawing himself up, he raised his voice for his captured audience. "I am the foretold Destroyer! You cannot change fate! Woe to those who flock to you, for they shall all feel my wrath!" That should make his supporters abandon Mallarg, he thought in glee. "There is nowhere you can hide in this or other realms, Necromancer. I will find you and obliterate your very existence!!"

The Necromancer stood rooted to the spot for a moment before turning abruptly and hurried away from sight. He was visibly shaken.

"How is it possible?" Jarrakg asked in awe. Now he too was frightened. The Ghost Lords really were immortal as the Legends say. They could not be killed. He had seen it with his own eyes. Wasn't the human Ghost Lord still standing in front of him unharmed after being burned alive?

Constantine turned to the shocked orcs. "No biggie. I have personal Shields on, yes? I don't want to get hit by stray fire blasts, no?" he explained to the two slack-jawed orcs. "I cannot die now. I have too many unfinished businesses to attend to."

"But you were burning! I smelled your flesh cooking ..." the Jarrakg gulped.

"He did get me a little," Constantine admitted ruefully, "but I've maxed out my Healing and have rare boosts. I don't need potions for little burns. Also, I am fast, yes? Within the first few micro seconds, I protect myself with my trusty Shields. I adapt quickly to the situation and I am in top condition, am I not? So I use this to our advantage and reduce him to a shivering pile of jello!"

Jarrakg frowned in confusion not fully comprehending the animated Ghost Lord's explanation. He also did not know what a 'jello' was but it must be a truly horrible punishment if the powerful Necromancer was reduced to that!