Chapter 136: Death on the Water
When I felt I had begun to understand qi, and how it worked, another mystery appeared which made me realise I was just scraping the surface. One moment I was a wise man the next I was a noob again.
I rested on the hill and stitched my back wound before I'd enter the fray again. Something nagged at me. Something about the Orks.
They were cunning, far more cunning than ferals. But compared to men, they had a long way to go. I laughed to myself. Nothing was as devious as a greedy man. Gisael's view of the world had broadened but she had not really experienced what men were really capable of.
I didn't think the qi techniques the Orks possessed were innate. I wasn't sure, I wasn't in their heads and we didn't speak about it. I just smashed them when they were within reach. But their qi-strike, stoneskin and body techniques reminded me of something.
What did the captain say before he was killed. That Svartalfar hated orks because orks were made from them. What did that mean. Was it something like an adventurer who were made from the lump material and formed into … well anything.
I finished stitching the wound, stood and sighed. It was a mystery for another day. I learned so much, but I still knew so little. The sky was blotted with dark purple clouds. The moons and stars gave no light for the defenders, the orks or me.
It suited me just fine.
I was once the sneakiest of sneaky bastards in the USA's most elite black ops unit. It was time to be that young man once again.
I picked a wicked knife from one of the corpses and cut out its core. I didn't have time to cut them all but one for the road was what I would take.
The lake was to my right and the remnants of the army was to my left. There were fourteen orks left with the remnants, which was their main force. They had not yet signalled for the attack, but it would be soon.
I ran down the hill towards the lake and slid into its depths. I swam like a frog with the wicked knife in my mouth. I skimmed through the water quietly and efficiently. My long arms reached out and pulled the water behind me without making a splash. I controlled my kick, so it didn't break the water's surface, just enough to propel me forward. I could see the bastards as their cores bobbed but they had no fucking idea I was there.
An unmistakable roar sounded from the west as the assault began. The ten orks in the lake moved forward cautiously and I slipped in behind them. They didn't know how to swim properly. Some dog paddled; others swam with a piece of wood to keep them afloat while they kicked.
I dived down underneath the last of them - the worst swimmer. I could cut his throat, but I'd recently learned something knew. The wicked knife was covered with my qi and I sliced him with one hand while I reached into with my other and pulled out his core. He thrashed until the moment I pulled his core and then he sunk like a stone. I swam around him and reached for his log. I kicked and pretended I was him for a moment. It was so dark even their enhanced sight did not notice my antlers behind the log.
I dived, swam forward and turned on my back underwater. My long legs kicked, and I overtook the next ork, floated up and gutted him like a fish. Two orks slid to the bottom of the lake and I had two cores in my belt pouch while the others seemed not to notice their worst swimmers disappearing at the rear.
The next three hung onto the same log and kicked their way slowly to the fort. The noise from the west grew louder and I wondered why they didn't put in more effort to reach their destination sooner. Perhaps they wanted any defence on the walls above the lake to leave and reinforce the others so they could slip into the fort without resistance.
I slashed at the thick tendon which stretches from the calf to the top of your heel. Not once, but four times. It's named after Achilles the mythical Greek hero from antiquity and without it you're toast. It's the thickest tendon in a human body, and for the orks it wasn't much different. To slash it so easily you needed strength, accuracy, timing, a very sharp wicked knife and qi.
The orks rolled in the water and their log pitched as they struggled in different directions. One slid off the log and down into the water. The one in the centre hung on but I had cut both his tendons and the last one lunged for me.
I kicked, rose in the water, and slashed his throat. On land the orks were competent warriors but in the water they were out of their depth.
The ork on the log grabbed his sword from his back and hung on with one arm. His friend sunk to the bottom with his throat cut while the other was still drowning and struggled to surface just to take a breath.
He swung his scimitar overhead and it slapped the water a foot short of me. I laughed in his face because I wasn't worried about alerting the others. The furious fight in the water with all the splashing, grunting and blood curdling cries did that already.
The ork's mouth opened showing me his yellow fangs. His pointy teeth looked like a dog's and his breath reeked. His scimitar was underwater which would delay his next attack and I didn't wonder if it would give me enough time to close the gap and strike.
Before a battle I plan, I put myself in my enemies boots and think of their moves and counter moves. But once in a fight my instinct takes over because there is no time for thinking. The time it takes to think of the next move could be your death.
I dived forward, down then rose immediately I struck out with my hand and my qi travelled up the living wood and out towards his face. I did not know the reason why but when qi flies through the air, on its own, it becomes visible to all. It was like a qi core separated from a body was visible, so was a qi-strike when it was unleashed.
The bright blue glowing orb surprised him. He thrashed and let go of the log and his sword in a desperate attempt to evade it. It passed him, grazed his shoulder, and broke the log in two.
I took one stoke forward and stabbed my skinning knife down through the top of his head. It made a loud popping sound when I pulled it free as air rushed into his evacuated skull.
An ork fumbled with a bow, three others swam as fast as they could towards the fort. The smartest had gone underwater but he didn't know I could see cores and his shone at me brightly as he swam towards me from below.
I grabbed half the log, turned it upright and pushed it down in front of me. The idiot with the longbow grunted in frustration. He turned the bow on its side, but he didn't have the leg technique to rise out of the water and fire. Not to mention it was a long bow, and his arms couldn't possibly be long enough to draw with it in front of him.
In the end he held it above his head while his mouth and nose sunk underwater and despite his strength the arrow only travelled a dozen feet before it fell harmlessly.
The night was pitch black and there was only the reflected light from the fort's torches to see. The orks had enhanced their vision but it was still difficult especially if they were underwater. The core did not deviate and swum across and up towards me. I held the log between my legs and watched to see if he would divert but he kept coming straight on. I pushed myself back and the log out. The ork rose and broke the water's surface and viciously attacked the log.
I couldn't help myself I laughed. "Gisael warned me you were tricky, but I guess you met your match. Men from earth make you seem naïve."
The last statement would confuse the hell out of him assuming he understood a word. But he did understand I was laughing at him and his green face turned red with anger.
He rushed at me and I flopped back and kicked him in the face. I then swum to his left with one arm outstretched. He flailed about because he had no idea where I was, he was still reeling from the kick to the face and his nose bled profusely.
My next strike was to his side and I let my qi flow down my arm again. The living wood was like a ramp and my qi was a matchbox car. It flew and caught him in the side of chest, it crashed through his stoneskin, ribs and made a hole the size of a baseball.
The baptism of fire had me in the zone in terms of creating qi techniques. It was all coming together - the wood, the stream, and the strike.
There were still three swimming towards the fort and the other had sunk below the surface trying to hide from me or his shame. One or the other.
I swam until I was above him then dived and stabbed his head with my knife. He was so busy holding his breath he was probably unaware of what was happening. He sunk to the bottom of the lake and I swum back to the surface.
The three ahead were swimming under the wall where it sat on columns. And they were right about one thing, all the men guarding this section had left. From the screams I knew the fighting continued to rage on the west wall.
I swam quietly towards the lake wall and considered my next move.