Africa Leveling

The orc warband moved through the wastelands with grim determination. The battle with the Demon King had shaken them, but it had also ignited a fire within their ranks. They had glimpsed the abyss and walked away alive—scarred, but unbroken.

Jajwok marched at the front, his golden energy still flickering faintly around him. He had learned something valuable in that battle: the Demon King was not invincible. He could bleed. And if he could bleed, he could die.

Brakzul kept a steady pace beside him. "The fortress isn't far," the chieftain muttered. "But there's something wrong."

Jajwok frowned. "What do you mean?"

Brakzul's expression darkened. "Scouts should have met us by now."

The realization hit like a hammer. The fortress wasn't just silent—it was too silent.

Urgak snarled. "An ambush?"

Kragzul, the orc mage, closed his eyes and muttered an incantation. Green energy swirled around his fingers before vanishing into the wind. His eyes snapped open moments later. "The fortress is under siege."

The warriors tensed.

Jajwok's grip tightened on his sword. "Then we break the siege."

Brakzul raised his axe. "Move fast. Move hard."

The warband surged forward.

The Battlefield Before the Gates

Blackfang Fortress was built into the side of a jagged mountain, its towering walls lined with orcish warriors. But as Jajwok and his group arrived, they saw the problem—an army of abyssal demons had surrounded the fortress, hammering at its defenses.

The demons were grotesque creatures of shadow and bone, their twisted forms writhing unnaturally. Siege beasts, massive creatures with skull-like faces and spiked limbs, battered the walls. Smaller demons swarmed the base, clawing at the gates.

Atop the walls, orc archers rained arrows down upon them, but the demons kept coming.

Brakzul didn't hesitate. He raised his axe and roared, "FOR BLACKFANG!"

The orcs charged.

Jajwok was among the first to reach the enemy, his golden energy flaring as he cut down the nearest demon. His blade cleaved through shadowy flesh, and the creature howled as it dissolved into ash.

Urgak swung his warhammer, shattering a demon's skull. Brakzul hacked through another, his axe biting deep.

The demons turned their attention to them, screeching in rage.

The battle was on.

The Tide of War

Jajwok fought like a storm. His golden blade was a blur, severing limbs and piercing demonic hearts. Each strike sent pulses of divine energy rippling through the battlefield, cutting through the abyssal corruption.

But the demons were relentless.

A siege beast turned its attention toward him, its massive, spiked limb swinging down. Jajwok barely dodged in time, the ground shattering where he had stood.

Kragzul raised his staff. Green fire erupted from his palms, slamming into the creature's face. The beast reeled back, screeching, but it wasn't dead.

Jajwok seized the opening. He leaped onto the creature's back, driving his sword deep into its skull. Golden energy flared, and the beast convulsed before collapsing.

More demons surged toward him.

Brakzul and Urgak fought side by side, holding the line as more orcs joined the battle. The clash of steel and the roar of warriors filled the air.

Then, a horn sounded from within the fortress.

The gates opened.

Orc reinforcements poured out, their war cries shaking the battlefield.

The demons faltered.

Jajwok didn't give them a chance to recover. He charged forward, leading the counterattack. His blade sang as it carved through the abyssal horde, his golden energy burning away the darkness.

The tide was turning.

The Demon General Appears

A chilling presence swept over the battlefield. The orcs hesitated, sensing something far worse approaching.

From the shadows emerged a towering figure—a demon clad in obsidian armor, its crimson eyes burning with malice. A wicked black blade rested in its clawed hand, pulsing with abyssal energy.

The demon general.

Brakzul stepped forward. "This one's mine."

Jajwok, however, felt something deeper. This wasn't just a general. This was a test. The Demon King had left this thing here for him.

"No," Jajwok said. "I'll handle it."

Brakzul hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded. "Then kill it fast."

The demon general grinned, its voice a low, guttural growl. "You are the anomaly."

Jajwok readied his sword. "And you're just another corpse."

The demon moved first.

It was fast—too fast.

Jajwok barely blocked in time, the impact sending shockwaves through his arms. He countered with a golden slash, but the demon dodged, its blade darting toward his throat.

He ducked, spinning, and drove his sword toward its side.

Metal met metal. Sparks flew.

The two warriors clashed in a deadly dance, neither gaining the upper hand.

But Jajwok could feel it—his power was pushing back against the abyss. He was stronger than before.

He gritted his teeth. I just need one opening.

The Final Strike

The demon general struck hard, forcing Jajwok back. It raised its sword, preparing to unleash a dark wave of energy.

Jajwok didn't let it.

He surged forward, golden light flaring. He dodged under the demon's attack, driving his blade upward—straight through its chest.

The demon's eyes widened.

Golden energy erupted from within, consuming the creature. It howled, its form unraveling into nothingness.

The battlefield fell silent.

Then—

The demons began to retreat.

With their general slain, they scattered, fading into the darkness from which they came.

The orcs roared in victory.

Aftermath

Blackfang Fortress had held. The siege was broken.

The wounded were tended to, the dead honored.

Jajwok stood atop the fortress walls, looking out at the wasteland. The Demon King had not returned, but his presence loomed over them.

Brakzul approached. "You fought well."

Jajwok nodded. "We won today."

"But the war isn't over."

Jajwok exhaled. "No. It's just beginning."

He clenched his fists, feeling the golden energy within him. It was changing, growing. He had taken another step toward his destiny.

And whatever lay ahead—he would be ready.

The night after the battle was eerily quiet. The orcs gathered around bonfires, tending to their wounds, sharing stories of their fallen comrades. The stench of blood and burnt demon flesh still lingered in the air, a grim reminder of what they had endured.

Jajwok sat apart from the others, gazing at the battlefield. His mind replayed the fight with the demon general. He had won—but it hadn't been easy. I need to be stronger.

Kragzul approached, leaning on his staff. "The Demon King is testing you."

Jajwok exhaled slowly. "Then let him. I'll be ready."

In the distance, storm clouds gathered. The war was far from over.