Age of Angels, page 20
But what had it gotten him?
He drew a breath, considering that question. It had brought him victory. His team had been there until the end, helping him to destroy this god angel. They had won, and he should be pleased with that fact.
A warrior wouldn’t wallow in self-pity. He stood, steeling his emotions, and realized that he was still in the land of this god he had killed. The fallen statue that had crushed him with its massive gold cock lay there as if fucking the soil. Workers—slaves?—all around turned to Luke, as if waiting for his command.
He was no god, though. And certainly no slave master. “You all are free. Return to wherever you came from. But if you want this to be your home, so be it. I won’t stop you. There are others out there, other would-be gods, along with demons and other types of creatures who would abuse their power. Anyone who wants to stay and help me stop it, this will be the place. Our headquarters.” He was a warrior now, a half-orc. Going back home to Earth like this wasn’t exactly an option.
A moment of silence followed, and then the man who had been in control of the work stepped forward, nodding to him. “Thank you, sir. I will join you.”
Others followed suit. Some left, as expected. Many, even. But others remained, telling him how they could organize soldiers, how they could get food going and a whole supply chain figured out.
When it was done and decided upon, Luke thanked them, then walked over to the angel god’s old house. He only had to look at it briefly to see that it would need a lot of work to be redone for him. Namely, removing the pool of blood. That shit stank, and was disgusting.
The main living room was nice, though. He couldn’t begin to imagine the various places that god and angel-demon duo had fucked, though, so he decided it would need to be sterilized, sheets and whatnot burned.
For the first time, he noticed the screen was there, the level up showing. His little reward for having killed this so-called god and his generals. Pulling up the screen, he saw that he had gained major XP there. Enough to level up three times. It read:
Level: 9
Class: Orc God
Attack: 89
Defense: 74
Speed: 60
Mana: 55
Team Bonus
Orc Skill: Berserker Bash
Orc Skill: Bloodlust
Orc Skill: Rage Combo
Spells
Red: Amplify Damage*2
Brown: Animal Summons+2
Special Bonus:
God Killer: 3 Multiplier When Fighting Gods
Team Bonus
Not applicable
Had he read that correctly? It said Orc God now, so was no wonder his stats were so impressive. He felt it, too—the energy surging through him, the thrill of the fight in spite of the intense grief.
With that sort of advancement, he thought he might have a chance of doing what needed to be done. Of surviving in this crazy world—even though he had lost his team bonus. Lost much more than that, really.
Feeling the horns heavy on his head and tusks much more prominent, he was reminded of his orc companions back at the underworld base. He would find a way to bring them with him, the three to figure something out. But not yet.
At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Instead of curling up on the couch, he leaned back against one of the gold walls, closed his eyes, and rested.
We’re not dead yet.
The voice was in his head, but distant. His eyes popped open. “What?”
Well, we are, it was another voice this time, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You can find us, bring us back.
He couldn’t believe it, but as he sat there it became clear whose voice he was hearing. First Naomi, then Ariel.
“How?” he said aloud, then stood, looking around. “Where are you?”
The plains, Rachel said this time. You can find us on the plains.
Hurry, Naomi said. It’s not safe for you, and the longer we stay in our current forms, the more we might fade.
“I’m on my way.”
THE END
Mark Albany, Age of Angels
