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"So this is the might of General Varlen." Marule spoke as his eyes flashed with explosive excitement.

Marule, with his left hand, thrust his sword toward Varlen's chest, but Varlen side stepped right, slightly redirecting the sword with his right elbow as he twirled, hitting Marule's wrist with his left elbow to shake his sword off.

Marule gritted his teeth. Grabbing his sword tight.

'He's too fast.' Marule thought to himself.

Varlen clenched his left fist, and the sand under Marule's feet morphed into hand shapes that clenched his both ankles. And in that same twirling motion, Varlen landed a right handed blow on Marule's neck.

Crack!

As Varlen leaped inches away from Marule, he glanced at his wrist. His bones were slightly fractured."Tch." He clicked his tongue.

Marule's skin was unusually tough.

'This reminds me of that Orc twenty years ago.' Varlen thought to himself.

"This much is nothing." Varlen whispered as he shook off the pain. He had endured worse pain than that.

Marule held his neck where he had been hit. And he rolled his neck, cracking it as he clenched his sword, staring at Varlen with a deadly glare.

Varlen raised his hands up, bringing his fingers toward his face. And he pressed his thumb with his index finger. A pinch.

'Did he just call me small?' Marule thought to himself as the veins on his forehead bulged.

Marule threw his sword with his left hand, and caught it with his right hand. And immediately leaped.

That's when Marule felt it. That cool feeling on top of his head that blocked the warmth of the afternoon sun. It was a large, looming shadow.

There, in the air, in suspended motion, he looked up, and he saw sand, the shape of an index finger. He looked down too, and he saw sand shaped like a thumb. But they were large, like golems made of sand.

Marule fell for the trap.

The huge sand thumb and index finger pressed against Marule like a sandwich. He squirmed, trying to break free as sand entered his mouth.

Varlen stood, watching Marule squirm pathetically like a worm. A small smile stretched on his lips. "My plan worked, of course."

Varlen was a seventh circle Earth Mage. He was a mage that had passed the sixth circle. He could cast spells without glyphs, and without chanting. He just needed to think of the spell.

Clang~! Clang~!

'Hm? '

Varlen heard noises of weapons clanging just behind him. And he turned his neck to see K, on his own, fighting off the five elite Orcan warriors that guarded Orcan generals with a satisfied smile on his face.

Varlen's lips stretched, "yes, the battlefield will always be dull without you, my friend." He whispered.

Fwoosh!

It came hurling toward Varlen's head.

Varlen quickly sensed it, and he raised his left hand at that moment.

A wall of sand formed just in front of him, and the sword crashed on the wall of sand.

'He escaped so soon? How? ' Varlen thought as he crouched low. Peeping at Marule through the side of the hardened sand wall.

Marule had broken the sand pinch with raw strength alone. He walked slowly toward Varlen, holding his forehead with his left hand. "So you are really the warrior who killed my Father, General Varlen." He spoke.

'Haah. An Orc complimenting me.' Varlen thought.

Varlen grabbed a handful of sand from the ground. He rolled the sand into a ball. Then he dragged the sand ball on its edges, until it stretched into a blade.

Varlen held the sand blade tight. "He isn't with his weapon. I'm with a weapon. Plus, thousands of other weapons I can summon. Let's see.."

Varlen stood up, leaped, and stood atop the large sand wall with the sand blade on his right hand.

He snapped his left fingers, and the Earth mana filled seven circles revolving around his heart like the rings of Saturn began to spin with immeasurable speed. Distributing earth mana through his pathways.

The earth mana seeped from him, corrupting the pure mana in the air, and turning them into earth mana.

Varlen crouched on the wall of sand, and in the air behind him floated hundreds of sand blades formed from his earth mana, all pointing at Marule. And he still clenched the sand blade on his hand tight.

Marule paused, staring up at the magnificent sight of the hundreds of sand blades floating around Varlen as he crouched on the sand wall.

Marule's lips widened as he swung his two folded fists in the air like he was beating a drum. Immediately, his fists coated with crimson colored mana — the poisonous mana of monsters. He had manifested his people's version of weapon users' force.

Varlen's right hand clenched his sand blade, and he flicked his left wrists. Immediately, the hoard of sand blades floating around him hurled toward Marule.

They were like an endless rain of earth mana enforced arrows.

Marule stumped his right foot on the ground as he saw the incoming blades. He dragged his left foot back slowly, keeping his left and right foot shoulder width apart. He dragged his left fist backward as he twisted his waist. Then — release.

The crimson force from Marule's punch shattered all the blades, causing a swirling veil of sand, dust, and residue poisonous mana.

Varlen immediately took advantage of this dust and leaped forward with his clenched sand blade.

Varlen pierced through the thick veil of dust, aiming to pierce through Marule's chest.

Tum!

Marule smiled. He had held the sand blade with his right hand just in time. The impact had caused his right palm to bleed and blister, but he folded his left fist, ignoring the minor blisters on his right palm.

'Ha, what the hell is this Or..'

Marule spared no time, immediately sending a heavy blow to Varlen's left ribs.

"Urgh!" Varlen retreated, crouching and clutching his left ribs tightly as blood dripped out of his mouth. "It seems I miscalculated.." he muttered.

Marule retreated, leaping backward toward the direction of the already dissolved sand wall where his sword lay. He grabbed it, and swung it in the air, and it immediately coated with his crimson force.

Marule immediately dashed toward the crouching, wounded Varlen.

As Marule reached where Varlen crouched, unable to move, he stumped his right foot forward, dragging his left foot back as he twisted his waist and tightened the grip of his sword with both hands as he drew it backward at his left hand side. Then..

The sword art Marule had inherited from his father before he died:

Blood Severance: Third Form; Hyper Charge.

..Release.

A single, clean horizontal strike to sever Varlen's head.

That's what it was supposed to be.

But..

Pew!

A radiant, warm hue of silvery light flew through Marule's chest and exploded in the distance.

"H.. how?" Marule whispered as blood trickled from his mouth.

He had been stabbed from behind, through his armor, by a sword force that pierced both his heart and his crimson core.

Varlen looked up, and as he saw the figure behind the Orc, he gripped his ribs tight and his face lightened up with a smile.

Marule's bloodied lips widened with a wide smirk as he looked down at Varlen. His chest was open. But he stood, and he whispered; "you're strong, General Varlen. Now, I truly believe that you're.. the one who killed my Father. But, I would have won."

Varlen sat on the ground, holding his broken ribs tight with his left hand and taking his tobacco from his hair with his right hand, and he put it in his mouth as he watched Marule.

Marule looked up at the sky one last time, admiring the warm breeze that blew against his face, "I was right. It really is a beautiful day to die." He closed his eyes.

The figure who stabbed him took off their sword. But Marule didn't fall.

He stood there. Dead but not moving. Standing firm with his head pointing up at the warm evening sky.

"Thank you, General Mari." Varlen said softly as he watched the woman who had helped him slowly walk away.

"Don't thank me," she said, not turning back as she walked. Her orange cape fluttering behind her, "you were simply wasting too much time."

Varlen wiped off the blood trickling from his lips, and he closed his eyes and shook his head slowly as she walked off to her Empire's army.

"She still never changes, huh." K spoke as he tapped Varlen's shoulder.

"Huh? You're done?" Varlen asked. "You've killed the five Elite Orcan warriors?"

"Of course. Don't you know who I am? And, I'm still upset you had to fight that Orc general guy on your own."

Varlen smiled softly as he held his ribs tight and stood up with a low grunt, "mad man."

He turned to face his army who were all on their knees.

"Stand up, all of you! The enemy general is defeated!! Round up the remaining enemies so we can go drink beer!!!" Varlen yelled as he raised his right hand up.

"Ayyy!!!!!!" Thousands of voices echoed in reply.

Varlen waved, signalling the healers on the hills to come down and heal his ribs and his injured men.